Editors’s Note: This is the third in a four-part series depicting the life of ISU golfer Tyler Swanson after a near-fatal car accident in May.

Tyler Swanson only remembers two days in May. The rest of the month was a blur for the 20-year-old golfer. When he fully emerged from the coma, he thought his brother Taylor was his roommate, Jon Augustus.

After the accident, Swanson would spend more than three weeks in a coma and go through a risky surgery to remove part of his skull. The only solace he and his parents, Cal and Cindy, could take away from the situation was that Tyler had yet to experience any physical pain. He would have to learn to walk, speak and eat. Those physical acts people take for granted every day would now replace what would have been a relaxing summer spent sharpening his golf game.

On May 26, Swanson was taken to On With Life in Ankeny, Iowa’s premier therapeutic center for patients with brain injuries. He was admitted to the minimally responsive/coma program, where he worked with speech and language pathologist Dave Anders.

Tyler began therapy when he was still in what is described as a “near coma.” He could sit in a chair with his eyes open and track movements, but not necessarily know what was happening.

Tyler couldn’t speak or write when he arrived in Ankeny. One night, Cal noticed that Tyler looked hot. He put ice on Tyler’s lips, then asked Tyler to put one finger up if he wanted more ice and two if he didn’t. Tyler put up one.

“It was difficult when doctors were telling me he was still in a coma,” Cal said. “I was angry. What is your definition of a coma? He responds to me. He would look at me. He would follow me.”

When Tyler came completely out of the coma, his goal was rehabilitation. Hoping to kick-start Tyler’s speech, Anders tried to get Tyler to imitate sounds. One afternoon he instructed Tyler’s parents how they could work with him to help him improve. Anders said simple words like “Yes,” “No,” “Hi,” “Bye,” would be good to start.

“[Cal and Cindy] ended up prompting him to use speech a whole lot more than I anticipated,” Anders said.

Tyler said “Hi” to his mom when she entered his room one Saturday morning. It was the first word he had uttered since the accident.

“I broke down in tears,” Cindy said “They could have picked me up off the floor.”

That Monday when Anders came in for therapy, Tyler said, “Hi Dave.” Anders said he was blown away, and, with a smile, asked what Tyler had been doing all weekend.

Before greeting his mom, Tyler had made only groaning noises. Doctors said what he accomplished in that weekend was supposed to take a month to a month and a half. Tyler would be talking to Cal on the phone by the week’s end.

The biggest reason Tyler was able to regain speech and language functions was because his injury was in the right hemisphere of his brain, Anders said. In most right-handed people, the left hemisphere controls speech and language.

Anders said the same personality traits that helped Tyler excel on the course carried over into rehab.

“He was never satisfied,” Anders said. “He always thought it could be done better.”

Anders credited Tyler’s immediate family and the ISU family as being a huge support network during this stage of recovery. Cal and Cindy spent the next month between Ankeny and Clinton. One of them was always with Tyler on weekdays; they would stay at his apartment in Ames and drive to Ankeny every morning.

John Charbonneaux, junior in health and human performance and one of Tyler’s roommates, said having Cal and Cindy around was a different experience.

“We tried not to bother [Cindy],” he said. “She was going through a lot, and would usually just watch TV and go to bed.”

Another key to Tyler’s development, his parents said, came from his girlfriend at the time, Katie Jessen. Jessen, a sophomore outside hitter on the ISU women’s volleyball team, lived in Ames for the summer. After working out in the mornings, she drove to Ankeny to hang out with Tyler.

“It was the best part of the day,” Tyler said. “It made me feel normal, just like I was hanging out with my friends. I couldn’t go anywhere, so her being there was great.”

Jessen was happy to help in such a difficult time.

“I was there mainly for moral support during his downtime,” Jessen said. “I tried to get his mind off of what happened and tried to get him not to think about what happened. I tried to stay positive.”

Just as Jessen tried to divert Tyler’s mind from the accident during what he calls “house arrest” at On With Life, so did his parents when Tyler returned to Clinton on July 25. Doctors told Cal and Cindy that victims of brain injuries often have difficulty interacting in crowds and that Tyler would go through denial or depression.

They remained positive, and one of the first things they did as a family was travel to nearby Silvis, Ill., and the John Deere Classic — eight and half months after he had played in it.

Claire Peterson, tournament director for the JDC and ISU alumna, said Tyler’s return was very emotional for everyone involved. Pros like Zach Johnson and Jim McGovern stopped by to wish him well. They remembered the name and face of the 19-year-old kid who made the cut the year before.

“His dad called and thought it would be neat if Tyler could make it back to the tournament as a spectator,” Peterson said. “We gave them some passes, and, after that, we weren’t sure he was coming until he was here.”

With his 7-iron as a walking aid, and a green John Deere hat, Tyler hung out by the range. He watched players he idolized and pointed out pros he had beaten the year before.

“It was a relief to just get out the hell out of the hospital,” Tyler said. “It was bittersweet. I kept thinking I should be out there playing in it again … but I wasn’t.”

The local media caught wind of Tyler’s visit, and he would speak to four TV stations and two newspapers during the course of the day. He was still tired and weak, but he answered as many questions as he could.

“He was one of the big stories of the tournament for the second year in a row,” Peterson said.

When Tyler qualified for the 2003 JDC, one of the first people he contacted was ISU golf coach Jay Horton. Horton had played in the event twice, missing the cut both times. His relationship with Tyler is that of a player and a coach, but one that included its share of sarcasm and jokes. Tyler would tease Jay about his weight and lack of hair; Horton would battle back with whatever came to mind. Before tournaments, Horton would talk to Tyler and “push his buttons to get the best out of him.”

“I found out it was better to piss him off,” Horton said. “I would say, ‘That kid is better than you; you can’t beat him.’ He takes that and just goes out to prove you wrong.”

At the hospital, Horton didn’t have an opportunity to deliver another pre-tournament pep talk.

He didn’t need to.

Through rehabilitation, Tyler had already faced challenges. He had already been “pissed off.”

Cal and Cindy remain thankful Tyler was in such good hands with Horton.

“That man has done more for my son with his recovery and growth then I can tell you,” Cal said of Horton. “He has gone way beyond his call of duty as a coach.”

Horton kept Swanson up to speed on the team’s progress as the season progressed; he called after the end of the Memphis Intercollegiate in October.

“He said we shot the fifth-best score of the day,” Tyler said. “He usually tells me who plays well, and … he said we beat Iowa and Missouri.”

Horton’s wife, Shannon, notices her husband’s effort to keep Tyler informed.

“I hate to say he has a favorite, but he does,” Shannon said. “He calls Tyler all the time, and the other night he got off the phone and said how much he hated it that Tyler can’t be here.”

For Tyler, getting back to Ames is his top priority. He wants to get back to the days of the Texas Hold ’em tournaments and basketball at the Rec. He wants his college life back. He mostly wants to see his friends and get back in the loop.

“I want to get back to Ames so bad,” Tyler said. “That is all I have been thinking about, and the only place I have wanted to be since I got back home.”