Flurries floated around the stadium as Clemson prepared to face Indiana in another quality MCLA matchup the next day. Holcomb dodged and scored with 4:15 left in the second quarter to give the Tigers an 8-3 lead at halftime, when the team huddled under bleachers typically used for the Flames’ soccer team.
At that point, there were no signs that something was amiss. Holcomb joked that he did not want to leave the comfort of the bleachers and return to the field.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” shouted Grubb as he headed toward the field.
“You’re reminding me of my dad getting me up for school in the fifth grade,” Holcomb fired back.
“How’d that work out?” Grubb asked.
“I got up, alright,” Holcomb said, laughing.
Holcomb scored again early in the fourth quarter to make it 10-3. He subbed out and then returned for Pendleton. With less than 12 minutes remaining, Grubb and Indiana coach Austin Jarrett noticed something peculiar. Holcomb was standing four yards away from the faceoff stripe as Clemson held the ball, looking in no particular direction.
Then he fell to the ground and his body started shaking.
“I saw a kid with his leg straight out and it was shaking,” Jarrett said. “I was like, ‘Oh man, that's a bad cramp.’ Then, people started yelling. You could tell from the people that were right around them, they were freaking out.”
Doctors at Lynchburg General Hospital later revealed that a low-grade mass was pressing on the right side of Holcomb’s brain — the side commonly associated with seizures.
As Grubb rushed onto the field to check on Holcomb, Turner, a graduate student at Liberty, sprinted past him. She was the first person to reach Holcomb, who was lying on his back.
“I ran out to the field because that’s what we trained for all through undergrad or masters,” Turner told the school. “We have to have confidence and comfort in knowing that if we have to respond to an emergency situation, we know how to … and adrenaline kicks in.”
Turner saw that Holcomb was not breathing and immediately began chest compressions. His pulse was faint. He likely had fluid blocking his airways. Jaffe joined Turner from the opposite side of the field to help reposition Holcomb, turning his body to the side and stabilizing his head and neck as they resuscitated him.
Jarrett remained on the phone with emergency services. John Holcomb answered questions about his son’s medical history in between breaths.
“I just tried to calm everybody down since there were a lot of moving pieces,” Jaffe said. “I just got everyone on the same page so that we were moving in one forward direction and not eight different directions all at once. I was taught slow is smooth and smooth is fast.”
Turner and Jaffe were able to get Holcomb to breathe regularly again, but those 5-10 minutes seemed much longer to those that waited for the ambulance to arrive. The Indiana club lacrosse player and Liberty athletic trainer had never met, but they worked in tandem to save Holcomb’s life.
“He was all business,” Grubb said of Jaffe. “He and Kira were comparing notes and very quickly agreed to the proper etiquette at the time. I was very impressed with their performance. It was pretty cohesive.”
Members of both MCLA teams circled together, locked arms and prayed for Holcomb as the ambulance darted away from the field and toward the hospital. The game was suspended. They took busses back to the hotel. Grubb fielded a call from a worried parent, relaying the message that Holcomb had suffered a seizure, but he was stable.
Meanwhile, word started to trickle out on social media about the event, and Jaffe’s role in saving Holcomb’s life. Jaffe, a graduate of Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, who was on campus during the 2018 shooting that claimed the lives of 17 classmates, reflected on another traumatic moment, but one he was able to minimize.
“I’m thankful for Kira and that I was at the right place at the right time,” he said. “Everyone is taught the same basic things in the medical world so that if there is something like this, we can all be on the same page and work congruently. I’m just happy we were able to save John. We did it together.”
Jarrett tweeted hours later that Jaffe nearly did not make the trip from Indiana to Virginia. He slept through his alarm. In need of players, Jarrett took matters into his own hands. He drove to Jaffe’s house, was led inside by roommates and knocked on his door.
“Let’s just say he got me out of my bed and onto the bus,” Jaffe joked. “I’m not a hero. I’m just a normal kid who almost missed the bus. I was just at the right place, at the right time, with the right training.”
Holcomb, was released from the hospital Sunday morning and is now resting at home in Nashville, Tennessee. Jaffe got in touch with Holcomb’s brother, Ben, who put the unlikely protagonist on speaker phone as the family drove from Lynchburg to Nashville. Together, the two lacrosse players forever linked talked about their gratitude for each other and about an episode that could have ended far worse.
“You don't really know what to say after something like that,” Holcomb said. “Harris is one of the coolest dudes that I've talked to, so hopefully I can meet him one day. That’s definitely one of my goals for sure.”
Jaffe repeatedly deflected the praise and the label of hero, which according to Jarrett perfectly describes his personality.
“He’s not out for himself,” Jarrett said. “He’s not a selfish player and that translates into the rest of his life. He demonstrated it right there in the best way.”