Logan Riley ‘Fireball’ Hieb

Before I begin, I feel a few disclaimers are in order. First, I tried to plan the service in a way that reflects the Logan I knew, but it is hard to copy his creative genius when he was so one of a kind...and not meant to be copied. He told one of his friends on facebook that he liked to keep things “limited edition”. Also, I apologize for the lack of formality to the service, but that just wasn’t his style. Some might see disrespect, but those of you who knew Logan already know that there’s the “right” way, and then there is the Logan way.

I’m not going to lie; Logan was a mule of a child. I said many times that he was difficult from conception. In utero, he was already a commanding presence. In my life, I have been pregnant four times, but I have only endured sickness with one…Logan; AND only when I ate Ferrero Rocha hazelnut chocolate. I LOVE those things, but guess who never liked Ferrero Rocha hazelnut chocolates?  Logan. Strong willed, much? My girls all flew into the world with limited effort and labor. Logan showed resistance even then, and made his entrance only with the assistance of vacuum extraction force on September 28, 1996 at 6:32 am. Then, he promptly defecated to express his opinion on THAT. After that, he refused to nurse.  He just wasn’t having it. You haven’t known humility until you are in the hospital bed, bare breasted with an angry, crying infant and a team of no less than 4 nurses bursting with encouragement and not so gentle persuasion. I am sorry for the awkward visual. Thus began my association with the Fireball experience.

The iron will continued…weaning, NOPE, potty training, NOPE. The more I wanted Logan to do something, the more I convinced him that it was a highly questionable thing to do. It took very clever psychology to achieve slight submission, but too bad for me I was never very clever in psychology.

At the age of 2, he began doing an obnoxious moaning cry. When told to stop, he would assert, “I caaaan’t.” No tears would be produced, totally dramatic and fake, but it was his way of indicating that he was displeased with life and his situation should not be ignored.

Whenever Logan went to his Aunt Mary’s house, Mary would chase him around with a wash rag in hand, anticipating the mess and/or destruction that was bound to occur. He loved coffee from an early age, and Mary remembers him drinking it at her house.  He filled his cheeks chipmunk style, and she told him to, “Swallow it.” He didn’t, so she tried again…”Swallow it.”  Of course, a fountain of caffeinated explosion spewed forth. 

The one thing I never had to fight Logan on was how to get along with his older sibling, Erin.  Sadly, this was not the case with Madison and Ashlyn who would come later, but he and Erin were always two peas in a pod.  Whatever shenanigans or games one would come up with, they had an accomplice at the ready. They played what they called the “Talking Game” for hours, where they each had a toy and would create extensive conversations between the two, hence they highly original title “The Talking Game”. Erin says that when they went to bed at night they would ask if they were going to “sneak out” that night.  If they decided it was going to be a night of rebellion, they would “sneak out” to the family room and watch TV. They were living the thug life. Even though his relationship with his younger sisters involved more clawing and gnashing of teeth, Madison admitted that he was her role model, and Ashlyn spent many hours playing video games with him and harassing her brother with endless chatter and trivial needs.

As a small child, he took great delight in various states of undress. He would strip down to tighty whiteys the minute we got home, and then would use a kitchen towel as a cape to turn into his alter ego “SUPER LOGAN”. He always had an appreciation for costumes. There was nothing he refused to wear.  He and David dressed in drag for me for a P.E.O. program with no hesitation, and were super good sports about the parts I needed them to play.  Halloween was his favorite holiday. He always wore a fabulous Halloween costume (i.e. hot dog, toilet, Waldo, oversized cowboy, Walter White). It was always interesting to see what he was going to make his pumpkin into and what he was going to be. Part of me wanted his final clothes to be his Waldo costume, because I will be looking for him everywhere.

He attended school at St. Nicholas, Acequia, East Minico and Minico. The teachers saddled with the task of molding the young mind either loved him or merely endured him, but either way their methods were tested daily.  Every assignment was questioned for validity of purpose, and preferably revolved around his favorite thing at the time. My favorite was when he was in Mrs. Matthews 4th or 5th grade class at Acequia. They were doing a unit on Abraham Lincoln, and he was super impressed with the man. He was also impressed with Star Wars, so he gave Abraham Lincoln a light saber every chance he could and in his mind, perfection was achieved. He had no use for subjects he deemed as useless, and once wrote about his frustration that careers are based on education, and education is based on memorizing facts.  He wanted the option to be as creative as possible. This last year as he struggled through Math I thought how great it would be if could somehow Photoshop it.  He would  have been much more interested.

He liked fire and he liked to Hulk smash.things. Fire pits

 were a favorite of  his, and I could always get him to take out the garbage as long as he could burn it. I would always find piles of things that he had hammered down with a barbell. Instead of a sink/float experiment, he conducted “Can I smash it?” experiments.

Around the age of 12, he began making You Tube videos.  Overlooking the misspelled words, these showed his wit and creativity. Chicken Nugget man was a hit in his elementary class. His Purple People Eater video is over 30,000 views. I always thought that was pretty impressive for a 12 year old.

In 6th grade, he became friends with David Arteaga. David says that it was a fight that brought them together.  He thought he had drawn the perfect circle, and Logan pointed out where he thought it was crooked. They bonded after that and David has been a member of the family ever since.

Logan was an amazing artist in many capacities.  He sketched, he molded clay figures, he made his videos, and most recently he had become talented in Photoshop. It was always remarkable to me to see what his amazing mind would create next. I could send him a picture and tell him what I wanted, and he would send it back in minutes, totally perfect.  I was at a school conference and there was a cardboard cutout of the Pope. I sent him my picture and told him to put the Vatican behind us. Almost immediately he sent it back, and it was perfect. He also gave me laser vision for Mother’s Day.  What mother doesn’t want laser vison?

His favorite past times were video games, archery and creating humorous SnapChats, mainly with our cat, Athena. I have heard from several people how much they enjoyed receiving his snapchats. He also had 2 facebook pages, Duck and Steve, that he enjoyed posting his humor on. Through these facebook pages, he developed a long distance kinship to Hector Ortega in Las Vegas.  Even though they had never met, they spoke often and had become strong friends. They had the same style of potentially offensive humor, and it was a binding force.

In addition to being a creative artist, Logan’s most memorable personality trait was his wit and sarcasm.  I used Erin’s line in the obituary, “He could make you laugh hysterically while offending you in the process.” It is so true. He was so funny, and would drop one liners at just the right time. For example, one time we were leaving for school, and Erin said, “I have my backpack,” I said, “I have my purse,”, Maddie said, “I have my lunch,” and Logan finished with, “I have my dignity!”

I made a soup recipe one time, and it’s no secret that I am a lackluster cook at best, in fact on one school paper that was asking to listt family recipes, Logan wrote” Ramen noodles”.  I was looking at this soup (that wasn’t Ramen noodles) that we were eating, and I said, “ I forgot to put something in!”  Logan deadpanned, “Flavor?” See what I mean?  Totally hurtful, but everything came out so funny you didn’t even care! He was intensely irritated by anything he deemed fake, and could also be counted on to give you his honest opinion. One day Erin was wearing a plaid romper, looking cute and Logan told her, “You look like a 5 year old on her first day of school.”  He also had a way with similes.

We were driving to school one day in winter, and passed a field that had had the sprinklers running all night.  Huge cascades of ice were hanging down, and I mentioned how strange that it was to be watering in the dead of winter.  Logan answered, “They’re trying to grow iceburg lettuce.”

Logan would also be ever willing to act in plays and productions. He was very entertaining to watch and his humor always shown through. Most recently, he was an angry King Herod in our church Christmas play.

I was looking through his old school papers, and on one he was posed the question what he would do after he graduated. He wrote he was going to run around in squares…and that was so Logan, because other people run around in circles, and he was an out of the box thinker. He also said his shining hour would be when he boogie woogie oogied.

Logan left us way to soon, but he left his light in our memories and our love for him. The night of the memorial, after we watched all the balloons float away, Erin noticed a bright star shining down on us right in the direction that the balloons floated. Logan was shining on us, shining like a fireball…may our lives always glow with the light of the Fireball.

 

Life Sketch 2

Since Logan passed away, things have seemed to happen in a divinely inspired manner. Whenever I had a negative thoughts pass through my brain, someone would message me in a way that seemed like they had read those thoughts. When I had an idea for the service, someone would affirm it without me even saying it out loud. For example, Logan’s friend Hector painted a t-shirt with the superhero slogan that is printed in the program, before he had learned about the superhero tone this week has taken. When I was forgetting I had children to feed even though I wasn’t hungry, food would come. Even when nobody needed to eat, food would come. Even our cat who never hunts left a mouse on our doorstep to not be outdone. But don’t get me wrong, we appreciate every gesture of love and support. When I met with Pastor Pam concerning today, I had written most of the first life sketch, had the order of service in my mind, and  I felt like it all had a good vibe…a good, strong, Jennifer-led vibe. Things were coming together in the planning of Logan’s service.  However, just as I was rolling with the plan that I had, that day Cliff found a poem that Logan had written, and later Pastor Pam and I really sat and listened to Logan’s songs that he had sent to a friend to be played at his funeral. Those things provided a peek at the darkness and pain that had crept into my son’s mind. He had a message….and it was a message that I wanted to ignore, but I knew I couldn’t. He was in a dark depression and he couldn’t see the gift that his life was. I was in such a conundrum. This was not the son I had just wrote my life sketch about, and this was not what I wanted to remember, nor did I want the rest of the world to remember him that way. On the other hand, his message was powerful and I knew he was not alone. Mental illness often has a stigma attached and people either shy away from it or choose to ignore it. I had ignored it with dire consequences, so I knew this was Logan’s last chance to be heard. I didn’t save Logan, but maybe I can help others by sharing Logan’s pain and becoming a beacon for those in similar distress.

When Logan was around the 9th grade, give or take, his demeanor started to slowly change. He went from mischievous, goofy, squirrely and stubborn to sullen, grumpy, withdrawn but still stubborn. He could find humor in anything, but he couldn’t find true joy. He was a teenager at this time though, and I remember my own teen years as being something less than pleasant and amicable. I ignored it. Logan didn’t like to talk about himself. It made him very uncomfortable and downright irritated. He would say, “I’m a teen…we’re supposed to be sullen and full of angst.” Nobody wants a nagging mom so I would leave it alone. I never wanted to be the mom that tried to mold her kids into something they weren’t. If Logan was a grumpy loner, then I was okay with Logan being a grumpy loner.  I figured he was going through awkward the teen years, and would grow out of it.  He didn’t grow out of it, however, and in fact, things got worse. Changes were gradual, time progressed, he was still a teen, and I was still justifying his behavior away. He started taking beer out of the fridge, but I figured he was testing his independence, and at least he was home. He was sleeping more, but I figured growing boys need their rest. I knew he wasn’t the best he could be, but I didn’t think he was terrible. The signs were all there though. I dropped the ball, and I let my son down. I had given him too much space.  I’m not casting blame at all, but this past week I have learned that if more communication with others who knew him had taken place and reported to me, his situation would have seemed more alarming to me. The little bits of clues would have added up to an alarming slap in the face. Everyone has been very nice and supportive, telling me that I was a good mom and there was nothing I could have done. I appreciate the love, but I am standing in front of you full of humility and regret and confessing that justifying and explaining away his behavior went against my instincts as a mother. I’ve told Logan’s spirit how sorry I am countless times this week, and now I’m telling you, because I think all of us as a society can do much better. I can’t bring my Logan back, but I want his legacy to be one of hope. I’ve seen our community rally together for the Relay for Life to fight cancer, and depression is just as deadly as cancer and causes just as much suffering.  I want to rally for this cause. I don’t have all the answers, but  this week I have been contacted by so many like minded individuals looking for ways to help build suicide awareness, fight the stigmas of mental illness and provide support to families who suffer. I’ve been asked if Logan was a victim of bullying and I haven’t seen any evidence of that, but he did have sensitive feelings behind a gruff outer shell, so he may have been affected by the  actions of others that they would view as benign…but not the typical bullying situation. I say this because suicide prevention involves anti-bullying, and I want Logan’s story to be accurate.

At the viewing last night, I noticed that those who suffer from depression were torn apart seeing my son in his casket. They knew it could easily have been them. Also, the people who had lost somebody in their own lives were quick to comfort me because they had been in my shoes. These are the people that I felt a connection with. In honor of my son, I hope to be the change I want to see in the world. I don’t have all the answers, but as a first step, a facebook page called United Front-Not one more has been developed. It seems so small, but it’s a first step. I keep thinking of the Bible verse, “Where two or more are gathered, I will be there in their midst.” Social media can be a ridiculous thing, but it helps find people you otherwise couldn’t. We included a list of suicide warning signs in the program. Please pay attention to them. Logan exhibited not all, but several of these, and reading the consolidated list was very hard. If only I had done some research.

In closing, I want everyone to leave here today with a love and appreciation of who my son was, and to understand what happened to the mind that was so full of promise, humor and intelligence. I don’t want him to be remembered for his death, but I want do want good things to come from it.. I want his death to give us all a resolve to be better people…less cynical of the struggles of others, more willing to be a listener and a helper. Like the phrase Hector coined on his t-shirt, we all need to be superheroes and reach out to someone in their time of need.  I want him to be remembered as the funny, artistic, limited edition that he was. And like he told his friend David, we need to stay strong like Kelly Clarkston.