Heartbreaking Story About Kile's Widow

http://www.chron.com/cs/CDA/ssistory.mpl/front/1758700

<B><font size=4>Pain continues to linger for Darryl Kile's widow</font></b>
By JOSE DE JESUS ORTIZ
Copyright 2003 Houston Chronicle

<I>Flynn Kile tries to fight back the envy and tears, but it's nearly impossible. She just misses Darryl Kile so much, especially at this time of year. For the first time since she married into baseball's culture 11 years ago, she will not plan a trip to spring training this February.

That point hits home clearly when she speaks with other baseball wives planning for spring training and the long baseball season that follows. That grinding routine, which brought a sense of structure to Flynn, is no longer in the forecast.

Seven months since Darryl Kile's sudden death, Flynn's shock has eased a bit. The pain lingers and bites her every so often, though. She runs countless miles in the mornings, attends Bible study every Wednesday and remains busy caring for their three young children in hopes of keeping occupied and away from the sadness.

Nonetheless, her heart breaks whenever she finds Kannon in her bedroom poring over pictures of his father. There was no way she could have prepared for this. Darryl Kile, after all, seemed so strong at 6-5 and 212 pounds when he died in his sleep at 33 last June 22 in a Chicago hotel room.

"When I look past January, it looks pretty empty," says Flynn, who is in town to attend tonight's Houston Baseball Dinner, during which Astros first baseman Jeff Bagwell will be presented with the first Darryl Kile Award. "That's the problem I have. I have a little bit of fear, fear of there being nothing else after this."

Flynn draws tremendous comfort from her children -- 6-year-old twins Kannon and Sierra and Ryker, 1. And she vows to enlighten them about their father. Many of Darryl's former teammates, including Bagwell, Matt Morris, Craig Biggio and Luis Gonzalez, promise to help.

"Mine, Jeff's and everyone else's goal has been to make sure the children know who their dad was," said Biggio, a teammate of Kile's from 1991-97 with the Astros. "We want to help them stay around the baseball stage, take them to a baseball game, a football game or whatever."

The St. Louis Cardinals, Kile's team since 2000 after two tough seasons with the Rockies, are compiling a book of letters from fans and former teammates honoring his memory.

Ryker must learn about his father from others. The twins have strong memories of Darryl, although they just turned 6 (Jan. 15).

"When they see me upset they always associate anything with me being upset with me missing Darryl," Flynn said. "They don't think it's something else. They say, `Oh, you're sad because you miss daddy.' "

That assumption is correct at times, but Flynn tries to remain strong. Hardly anything makes her smile more than the childrens' prayers and blessings at the dinner table.

"I miss my dad," Kannon says in his daily prayer. "I hope he's doing all right. I miss my baseball with him."

Sierra's prayer is similar, although she adds a prayer for Darryl's father, David, who died of a stroke at the age of 44.

"I miss my dad," Sierra says in her prayer. "I hope my daddy's having a good time with his dad."

Flynn appreciates knowing Darryl had a huge influence on his children.

"Darryl was a very strict disciplinarian, but he did it with such love, caring and patience, more than I do," Flynn says. "It's sad to see Kannon sit there and look at pictures and know that he will never truly know the man Darryl was because they're so young and they don't understand the true depths of his character. They can see through video what people say about Darryl and stuff, but I'm just sad that he or Sierra won't really, really, really know what a tremendous person he was."


Flynn was a senior in high school when she met Darryl, who had just finished his first professional season with the Class A Gulf Coast League Astros in 1988.

"It was very serious right away," Flynn says. "My mom said she knew the first time he came over by the way I talked about him, the way he looked at me when he came over."

Darryl finally reached the majors in 1991. He proposed to Flynn on the Astros' first trip to Los Angeles to play the Dodgers in May. Flynn was 19, about to turn 20. He was 22, and they were married Jan. 11, 1992.

Despite a detour to Class AAA Tucson in 1992, Kile's career steadily blossomed after the couple's marriage. He was never better than when he pitched a no-hitter against the New York Mets on Sept. 8, 1993.

The no-hitter was a bittersweet moment. Although thrilled about the defining moment of his career, Kile regretted that his father wasn't there to see it. Eight months earlier, David Kile had suffered a deadly stroke at his doughnut shop in Friday Harbor, Wash.

"I don't think I'll ever get over it, because my father was my best friend," Darryl said in 1993. "But in order to be a man, you've got to separate your personal life from your work life. It may sound cold, but I've got work to do. I'll never forget my father, but I'm sure he'd want me to keep on working and try to do the best I can do."

In 1996, Kile had a 12-11 record with a 4.19 ERA and a career-high 219 strikeouts. In 1997, he won 19 games, was picked for his second All-Star Game and finished fifth in the National League Cy Young Award balloting.

After the 1997 season, Kile left the Astros as a free agent and signed with the Rockies. He won only eight games in 1999, and was traded to St. Louis on Nov. 16, 1999. He went 20-9 with a 3.91 ERA in 2000 and had a solid season in 2001.

Darryl's career was back on track, and Flynn had just given birth to Ryker on Aug. 19, 2001. They had bought a beautiful Tuscan-style home in the San Diego area.

"There was so much to look forward to," Flynn says. "We had been gone so much and we were trying to move to this house. It was nothing but positive things."


When Darryl and the Cardinals landed in Chicago last June, Flynn headed to San Diego to get the new home in order. The children were left behind in St. Louis.

"I was on just such a high note and it was all looking good finally," Flynn says. "We had the baby and we were getting to a place where we wanted to get to. He and I had talks about the All-Star break all the time. It wasn't coming fast enough."

Darryl, who spent only one night at his new home, constantly discussed his future with Flynn beyond baseball. They loved to talk about getting involved in the kids' activities after Darryl retired from baseball.

There were so many places to visit around the world after the children grew up and headed off to college.

"We had planned so far in advance upon our life," Flynn says. "We knew what we were going to do when we were 50 if they were all in college. ... We were going to move to a smaller home but near the beach, maybe do our small cottage thing and enjoy that part of our life."

Those dreams ended June 22 when Darryl died of heart failure, leaving Flynn in search of answers. Darryl spent the evening before his death with his brother, and he got on the phone with Flynn as soon as he got back to his hotel.

Like almost everyone else involved in baseball, Darryl was worried about the threat of a potential strike. He made those concerns clear before ending his final conversation with Flynn about 11 p.m.

The Kiles spoke on the phone at least three times a day, and they had spoken twice June 21 before the final call.

Flynn told Darryl she had to get off the phone to unpack. He responded by saying he didn't want to get off the phone.

"Darryl would stay on the phone all night," she says. "I look back at that call, and I wish I'd stayed on the phone, not that it would have made a difference. He said, `All right, I know you have work to do. I'll call you after the game.' I said, `I love you.' And he said, `I love you too.' "

Flynn found it odd that Darryl did not call early the next day. Not too concerned, though, she prepared to leave the house in search of new furniture.

The worry began shortly after Dave Veres' wife, Robin, called later in the morning to say Darryl had not arrived at Wrigley Field.

"It's still early," Flynn thought. "He's not always going to come early to the ballpark."

Nonetheless, Veres' call made Flynn uncomfortable the rest of the morning. Sitting in her car, she was overcome with worry.

Flynn called Darryl's cell phone. Nobody answered, so Flynn began praying in the car.

"God, I hope he's OK and gets to the ballpark all right because you know I can't handle anything too big." Flynn remembers saying. "In my mind I meant death. I thought that'd be so unrealistic. As I went shopping, I still hadn't heard anything.

"I just kind of milled around in the store and couldn't wait for him to call me because I was going to be so angry at him for putting me through such worry."

Flynn was almost certain Darryl would call. Surely, he would say he had been detained because of some fender bender.

There was no auto accident. Darryl Kile died in his 11th-floor room at the Westin Hotel, where hotel officials and police found him in bed.

In a possible warning he had heart problems, Kile complained of shoulder pain and weakness the night before he died. An autopsy revealed 80 to 90 percent narrowing of his coronary arteries, and that his heart was nearly 25 percent larger than normal, said Dr. Edmund Donoghue, the Cook County medical examiner.

The scheduled June 22 game between the Cardinals and Cubs was postponed. Back in California, Flynn tried to remain optimistic.

"I think it was just disbelief because I wasn't there to see him," she says. "I thought I was not being told right. Maybe he was just hurt and they weren't conveying it to me properly. Maybe he just accidentally passed out.

"I said, `Where do I need to go? What hospital?' They were saying, `No, he's been gone now for eight hours.' Oh my God. It was just a shock because I had just talked to him the night before."

Flynn asked that nothing be done to Darryl until she arrived in Chicago. She needed to see him.

"Otherwise, I don't think I could have truly believed it if I couldn't touch him and say goodbye," she says. "I hoped it was some lie or some joke because Darryl missed me so much and would love for me to come to Chicago. I was already all the way out here. I thought, `Boy, there's no way he could do something this unkind just to get me to fly out there.'

"You kind of think that at first, but it didn't seem realistic that he passed away. He seemed pretty healthy and he had a physical every year. I'm probably still a bit in shock. It doesn't seem quite real that he could be gone."

The reality of the situation was sickening, sending Flynn and the baseball world into mourning.

"I got my kids in one state and my husband passed away in another and I'm out here in California," Flynn said. "It was a disgusting feeling. I thought I couldn't get there quick enough to be where I needed to so I could fully understand it."


In Houston, the Astros shut the clubhouse before that Saturday's game against the Mariners to let the team mourn privately.

Bagwell, Biggio and catcher Brad Ausmus asked out of the starting lineup after learning of Kile's death. They hung Kile's old No. 57 Astros jersey in the dugout to honor him.

As fate would have it, the game went 12 innings, forcing manager Jimy Williams to use Bagwell, Biggio and Ausmus. Bagwell ended the contest with a game-winning single and was mobbed at first base by teammates, who embraced him as he walked off the field weeping.

A day after the death, Flynn attended a 30-minute memorial service at the Cardinals' hotel, agreeing the team should play that Sunday's scheduled game against the Cubs.

Support trickled in from around the country, where Kile's friends and former teammates were spread. Taking time out of their schedules, 26 players from around the majors flew to St. Louis and joined the Cardinals on June 26 for Kile's memorial tribute at Busch Stadium.

"We cannot possibly understand why we are here today," Cardinals pitcher Woody Williams said from the Busch Stadium mound during the memorial. "Thank you Lord for the time we had with Darryl."

More than 5,000 fans attended the memorial, watching as a few of Kile's friends told stories about him. Astros owner Drayton McLane chartered a plane to St. Louis, leading a Houston contingent that included Bagwell, Biggio, Shane Reynolds, Ausmus and general manager Gerry Hunsicker.

"To see them all come together and be there for me was great," said Flynn, who had Kannon and Sierra at her side for the memorial. "They were so caring."

Hearing McLane offer condolences and support made Flynn happy, but she broke down when the most direct of Astros approached her. As Bagwell gathered the courage to embrace his good friend, Biggio stepped right up.

"Craig was the first one to say something," Flynn says. "He just walked straight forward. His eyes were red and you could tell he was distraught and had been crying. Craig is a very intentional person about his feelings.

"When he cares about a person, he really cares. He just told me what he felt about Darryl. Then it was like, `Oops.' I lost it big time. I just lost it. It was very hard, but it was also a comfort."

Kannon threw out the ceremonial first pitch seven hours after the service, setting the tone for the Cardinals' 5-2 victory over the Brewers.

Flynn and the children didn't resurface publicly at a baseball stadium again until she attended the Division Series between St. Louis and Arizona at Bank One Ballpark in Phoenix.

Darryl put the Cardinals atop the NL Central standings in his last start, and his teammates honored him at every turn.

Morris brought Kile's No. 57 Cardinals jersey to the All-Star Game in Milwaukee and hung it in the NL dugout at Miller Park. St. Louis held off the Astros' late charge at the end of the season and clinched the NL Central title on Sept. 20 with a victory over Houston.

Amid the celebration at Busch Stadium, Kile's jersey hung near the locker stall he never had a chance to empty. Albert Pujols carried Kile's jersey to the mound, where a mob of teammates gathered immediately after they clinched the title.

Once the party continued inside, the Cardinals took turns spraying the jersey with champagne. Cardinals officials offered to let Flynn throw out a ceremonial first pitch at Busch Stadium during the playoffs, but she wasn't ready to visit St. Louis.

"Every one of these outings is frightening and uncertain for her," said Kile's agent, Barry Axelrod. "The Cardinals were very kind in inviting her to be a part of the playoff situation."


She attended Game 1 of the Division Series in Phoenix without a problem. The biggest controversy of the playoffs broke out the next morning when a local disc jockey played a distasteful prank.

The Ritz Carlton put through a call to Flynn's hotel room from Phoenix FM radio station KUPD. DJ Beau Duran told Flynn he thought she looked "hot" and asked if she needed a date to the game.

Flynn hung up and tried to go back to sleep. A minute later, Flynn's phone at the hotel was ringing off the hook with friends telling her she had been on the radio. The Cardinals were furious, as were many of Flynn's friends and relatives.

"Whoever is responsible for that should suffer severe and dire consequences," Cardinals manager Tony La Russa said. "And if we could get our hands on them, we would deal with it physically. We'd (mess) them up."

La Russa's sentiments echoed throughout the Cardinals' clubhouse for nearly a week.

"You do that to Flynn Kile and you have no heart, no class, no guts. Picking on a player is one thing," Cardinals pitcher Steve Kline said. "But to play a prank on a woman who lost her husband? We won't forget that, ever."

It took a few days and pressure from the Cardinals and several major advertisers, but Duran was fired.

Flynn, who wasn't as upset as Darryl's teammates, was overwhelmed with calls of support from around the country.

"I loved them all for being so kind," she said. "I realize now I have so many, in a sense, brothers. It's almost kind of scary. I have all these big men who are out to protect me. I treasure that they're so kind and caring about me that they would get so upset. I do appreciate it."

Being around the Cardinals, she also realizes the tremendous pain they're feeling. The St. Louis franchise overcame several obstacles in 2002, including the death of Hall of Fame announcer Jack Buck.

"At that time, you're messing with a team that is trying to get through all the difficulties they went through that year," she says. "Then to have that (call). It felt like somebody else was bothering them again. I just don't think they could take it anymore. That poor man, I know he wishes he could take that back a thousand times. I didn't think he should be fired."


The Cardinals beat the Diamondbacks in the Division Series to earn a berth against the San Francisco Giants in the National League Championship Series. Kannon joined the Cardinals in San Francisco for Games 3 and 4 at Pac Bell Park.

Wearing one of the two Cardinals uniforms his father had bought him, Kannon was a hit when he was introduced with the Cardinals before Game 3. He received a standing ovation, bringing tears to several in the stands.

"Kannon likes to wear his uniform to everything," Flynn says. "I'm glad he has that."

Kannon recently finished soccer season, and he asks about Little League. He can't wait to start Little League, which saddens Flynn because it won't be the same without Darryl.

Sierra attends dance class Wednesdays and keeps active in school. The twins are part of a church group that meets Wednesday nights, and Flynn sets Saturday aside for the family to be together. They also attend church Sundays.

But nothing will ever be normal for the Kiles' three children. Flynn is frightened about the history of early deaths in Darryl's family.

She admits she is not coping as well as the kids, but she would rather have it that way. Nonetheless, Flynn isn't sure if it's good or bad that Kannon, Sierra and Ryker are so young.

"Their memories are short term," she says. "They know what's going on, but they seem to be able to get excited about little things like Disneyland for their birthdays."

Financially, the Kiles appear set. The Cardinals promised to pay the balance of Darryl's contract, about $14 million on a deal that would have expired after the 2003 season.

Flynn and the children also will receive Darryl's pension and death benefits from the Major League Baseball Players Association. Because of Darryl's status as an 11-year veteran with his major-league service time, his heirs are entitled to $160,000 in annual payments and a $300,000 life insurance benefit.


The monetary benefits are a relief but not nearly worth the price. The stable father figure is gone. Only the memories remain of the man Flynn would sometimes find asleep in Kannon's room.

Flynn knew where to look when she couldn't find Darryl in bed in the morning. After going into Kannon's room to wish him a good night, Darryl would lie down for a few minutes and doze off. He wouldn't wake up until the next morning.

"Dad used to sleep in my bed," Kannon tells people.

"How does he remember that? I don't know," Flynn says. "It just hurts to know they don't have that presence. To be around other families, it's still a little bit of jealousy that everybody else is normal and happy and I just think that we're not. ...

"It saddens me to think when they hear other boys speak of their fathers going to do something. That breaks my heart. I hurt for them, that they get to miss out on that."

Flynn can't truly comprehend what it must feel like for a child to lose a father. Her parents are alive, and she admittedly never thought about not having either of her parents.

Her loneliness is different but just as devastating. She misses his closeness, the intimacy, the love, the respect, the phone calls, and the adoration.

"It may have been 10 years and we had the highs and lows, but it was the highs that are remembered," she says. "It's still hard to let it go, knowing everything was getting more exciting. We had so much to look forward to. And now I'm all alone. It's hurtful when you adored the person you were married to. He was different. ... He was brought from a different planet."

Pitchers and catchers report to spring training in two weeks, and Flynn knows Darryl should be in Jupiter, Fla., with his St. Louis teammates.

"It hurts because I'm not a part of it anymore," she says. "It's the only life I've known. We knew he'd retire someday, but I figured together we'd transition into something else. To be stripped from something when you're not quite ready and to see everybody going into business as usual, it hurts. It hurts a lot." </I>

I remember where I was when I first heard the horrible news...it made the road trip back from Omaha after watching the Horns win the national championship a little less jovial.