Accident killed Christopher Klavon’s wife and burned over 75 percent of his body
By Hannah Potes
MLive.com
JACKSON, Mich. (AP) — It was Saturday, May 25, 1991.
Christopher Klavon was in his barn putting together a new gas grill he envisioned would be part of a fun-filled summer with his family.
His Rives Junction home featured a large yard — for his four young children to enjoy — and about six acres of land. There were cows, horses, dogs, cats and a goat, plus the barn with a workshop where Klavon toiled on the grill.
On that Saturday, Klavon’s wife, Kay, called him to the house so the family could leave for the Memorial Day fireworks at Cascades Park in nearby Jackson. Klavon washed his hands and climbed into the passenger’s side of the family minivan.
That’s the last thing he remembers of that day.
Two months later, he woke up from a coma to learn his high school sweetheart, wife of 11 years and mother to his children had died that day.
“I knew before I woke up that she was gone,” Klavon said. “They just told me what I already knew.”
Kay Klavon was killed instantly. Christopher Klavon’s three sons — Alan, 9, Corey, 8, and Matthew, 3 — escaped the vehicle. The two older boys climbed back into the burning car to save their 4-year-old sister, Erin, who was unconscious behind the driver’s seat. Two friends of the children, a 4-year-old girl and 9-year-old boy, suffered minor injuries.
Christopher Klavon suffered burns over 75 percent of his body.
In an instant, his life changed forever.
Klavon was transported to University of Michigan Hospital in Ann Arbor. He spent three months undergoing difficult medical treatment and more than 30 surgeries.
“If you survived being burned like I was, it was basically a miracle,” said Klavon, now 53. “There was something intrinsic, something inside that person causing them to survive.”
Klavon’s sister-in-law and her husband took care of his children while Klavon recovered. The loss of their mother and the injuries to their father were world-changing.
“Their life was turned upside-down,” Klavon said. “They had more emotional injuries than what most children, most people have to deal with in their lives.”
Physical and occupational therapists taught Klavon how to live again. The crash had cost him three fingers on his right hand and ended his career as a tool and die maker.
A physical therapist worked on strength training while an occupational therapist taught Klavon how to use his right hand after six surgeries on it.
“The main thing was getting the knuckle out (of my index finger) and trying to get the grafts to take,” Klavon said. “I like it. It has a lot of personality.”
It took 10 months for Klavon’s skin to heal. He wore pressure garments to help his burns heal. The garments kept Klavon’s skin flat and stopped the hypertrophic scarring that covers most of his body from rising and forming more “rope-like” scars.
The driver of the Bronco that hit Klavon’s minivan was Jerry McClung, then of Dexter. McClung suffered facial cuts and was treated at Foote Hospital.
Just over a month after the crash, with Klavon still in a coma, McClung was ordered to stand trial on a manslaughter charge for driving drunk and causing Kay Klavon’s death.
McClung pleaded no contest to the charge in November 1991. He did not know why he was about 35 miles west of his home that day.
“I cannot, unfortunately, remember the accident. I cannot even remember six hours prior to the accident. I may have experienced some sort of seizure,” McClung told then-Circuit Judge Alexander Perlos in January 1992.
He made similar statements at a later hearing. “There was just no reason for me ... to get up out of bed and to leave like that without telling someone where I was going and why,” he said. “I have not even been in the Jackson area in some 20-odd years. And to have been where I was that day of the accident, there was no reason for it.”
A public safety officer testified McClung told him he “basically fell off the wagon on this particular night.” The officer indicated McClung said he had been sober for three years.
A medical technologist testified McClung had a blood-alcohol level of 0.199 percent, based on a blood sample taken at least an hour after the crash. The legal limit today is .08.
Perlos sentenced McClung to seven to 15 years in prison. State sentencing guidelines were improperly calculated, however, and Perlos resentenced McClung in 1994 to five to 15 years.
“I look at this as one of the most devastating cases I have been involved in,” the judge said.
Klavon spoke at McClung’s sentencing in January 1992.
“This man had no respect for the law,” Klavon said in a trembling voice, during which he wore a clear plastic mask. “This man had no respect for the law at all. Citizens have to know you can’t have disrespect for the law and drink and drive.
“All I want is for justice to be served and it should be harsh.”
McClung cried uncontrollably while being led from the courthouse. He left prison in February 1997 and was discharged from parole in February 1999, according to the Michigan Department of Corrections.
Klavon said he holds no ill will toward McClung anymore.
“Because of how I was raised and my own personal beliefs, I knew I needed to forgive the man that hit us,” he said.
In the summer of 1994, Klavon was asked to accompany a group of burned children to a burn camp in Minnesota. It was a transforming experience, and ultimately led to the start of the Great Lakes Burn Camp in 1995.
Klavon met at Roxy’s Café in Jackson with representatives of all hospitals in Michigan that have burn units. With their help, and that of firefighters and private citizens across the state, Great Lakes Burn Camp welcomed its first 45 children to its rustic beginnings.
That first year, the camp didn’t have much to work with: just the kids, the counselors and a few canoes to enjoy on Pretty Lake west of Kalamazoo.
“But the time we spent together and having that shared experience, the kids absolutely loved it,” Klavon said.
Many campers returned to become counselors, or went on to go to college because of newfound confidence, some studying nursing or medicine, Klavon said. He enjoys
knowing he did something to help those children break barriers and live their lives to the fullest.
“If you can do that with one person in your lifetime, it’s all worth it,” Klavon said. “And here I’ve got scores of children that have been helped and it’s helping new kids every year. I’m pretty happy about that.”
In August, more than 60 campers attended the 18th summer camp.
In late July, Klavon attended an Impact Weekend at the Faholo Christian Conference Center in nearby Grass Lake. He spoke to first-offense drunken drivers and others sent to the retreat to turn their lives around.
Klavon has found a love for public speaking. He has shared his story at impact weekends, high schools and seminars for drunken drivers and hopes to develop a speaking career.
“You never know who will be touched by your story,” Klavon said. “I know that sometimes while I’m speaking, I think, ‘Why am I still doing this?’ Just about that time, someone comes up to me out of the blue and says, ‘Man, I heard you three years ago and it totally changed my life.’ Then I think, ‘Now I remember why I do this.’”
He hopes his story encourages others to make good choices and to remember that life goes on. He also reminds people to try to be happy with themselves and help others when they can.
“I like to lead from behind and help people find their own answers and act upon those answers,” Klavon said.
On an early evening in June, Klavon was at his childhood home on Hendee Road, helping his father, Walter “Pappy” Klavon, whom Klavon has cared for the past 10 years.
“Looks like it’s a frank and beans for Pappy tonight,” Klavon says, gathering supplies for dinner from his dim kitchen.
About 40 years ago, Pappy was paralyzed due to blood clots on his spine.
“I was 13 years old at the time, so I was thrust into the position of being the man of the house,” Klavon said. “So I’ve been taking care of the home here for many years.”
Klavon cooks him three meals a day, every day, a son’s loving gift to his aging father.
It’s that strength in family that has pulled Klavon through his darkest days.
His relationship with his children is “one of unconditional love, caring and respect.”
“Each child is different,” he said. “Yet there is also a commonality we all share together. Each one is my favorite at one time or another, but only ever known to them when it is so.”
The bond with his children and having faith in the way he was raised have helped Klavon maintain a positive outlook. That’s something he tries to pass on.
“I do know that everything happens for a reason,” Klavon said. “The only thing you can control is how you think and react to things in life.”
