Gretchen Olmsted says she remembers the phone call as if it happened yesterday. Jesus “Moose” Chavez, the school resource officer assigned by the Lakewood police department to Alameda International High School, was calling to say he had met her son, Luke, at a Special Olympics event at Jefferson County Stadium. Luke was born with cerebral palsy, confined to a wheelchair and non-verbal, but Chavez sensed an opportunity to bring him joy.
“He called me out of the blue,” Olmsted said recently, two months after her son passed away at age 26 due to medical complications related to his cerebral palsy. “He said, ‘I watched Luke and saw how much joy he had with someone pushing him fast on the track. I’m a runner, and it got me thinking, how fun would it be to push him in a race? I’m just calling to ask your permission. Would you give us the blessing of doing a race together?”’
“Are you kidding?” she replied. “We would love to do that.”
Thus began a relationship that enriched Luke’s life throughout his four years at Alameda and the eight years that followed, until he passed away on Aug. 31. At a celebration of life held in Golden Gate Canyon State Park, Lakewood police commander Randy McNitt described the bond between Luke and Chavez as a “bromance.”
Luke and Chavez did a half dozen races together, most of them half marathons. Chavez worked with the school’s athletic department to have Luke awarded a letter in track and field, which he received at a school assembly in his honor. The student body gave him a standing ovation.
“We’ve worked really hard together,” Chavez said the day Luke received his letter. “I know that sounds a little weird, but as much as I push him, he pushes me.”
Chavez also pushed Luke in his wheelchair at his graduation ceremony in 2015.
“When we put him in Alameda High School, I wanted him to be around typical kids, but I was a little concerned about his safety because sometimes kids can be extremely cruel,” said Luke’s father, Mark. “Moose being there definitely helped that. He probably facilitated all the other kids embracing Luke. I think he helped build that link for all those kids to see Luke as a person.”
Chavez, who is in his 15th year as an SRO at Alameda, says he can’t find adequate words to describe the depth of his relationship with Luke.
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“When we were together, you could tell he was happy,” Chavez said. “He couldn’t talk, but he would make this awesome sound that just made you feel so good. It just got to your heart, like, ‘Wow, I actually did something.’ I will never know if he was truly happy with me running, or just happy that I paid attention to him. People like Luke, special needs students, are always forgotten. Or people are afraid to interact with them because they don’t know how. They’re the forgotten class of students.”
On race days, Luke was always raring to go.
“He was wired,” Gretchen said. “He loved it. I think it was about all the people, being around all that energy, being with Moose, being partners in the race with Moose.”
Gretchen hopes Alameda grads who saw the devotion Chavez had for Luke when they were classmates will remember it now, at a time when the presence of armed school resource officers has become controversial to some school districts, like Denver.
“He went above and beyond, trying to keep Luke included,” Olmsted said. “Moose always saw the possibility, not the disability with Luke, and it inspired us.”
Chavez is saddened by the “negative connotations” some apply to SROs, saying he spends more time advocating and standing up for students than arresting them.
“Arresting is easy,” Chavez said last month in his office at Alameda. “I’m not just here to arrest you, I’m here to help you. If you read or watch the news, we’re all blackhearts and robots, and we’re taking kids to prison more than we are to graduation. My thought is, I fail kids if I don’t help them get to graduation. Without that simple piece of paper from high school, I know they’re going to suffer because I have family members who suffered, not having that little piece of paper. I hope, and I push kids to be better.”
Luke was born at 27 weeks, Gretchen said, “fighting for his life.” He spent eight weeks in the neonatal ICU at Lutheran Hospital before coming home. Despite his struggles and limitations, he grew up with plenty of personality and spirit.
“He was non-verbal, but man, could he tell you a lot just with his eyes and his facial expressions,” Gretchen said. “We used to call him Happy Go Lukey, because he was just so smiley, happy in the moment. His name translates to ‘light,’ so we named him very appropriately. A lot of people said Luke lit up the room. He would laugh at you. Like, if we got upset or frustrated, he would just giggle. He was such a teacher for us.
“We knew he was on loan to us. We also knew that more than likely, we were going to outlive him.”
Luke had two major hospital stays prior to the third one this year that preceded his death. The first one in 2018 nearly cost him his life. Chavez spent a night with him during that stay so his parents could go home and get a good night’s sleep. There was another long hospital stay in 2020 during the pandemic. His final hospital stay began on Aug. 6.
Experiencing serious lung and bowel problems, Luke was discharged to a hospice facility on Aug. 31. His parents planned to bring him home, but the doctor advised against that. Gretchen said Luke came “undone” when they put him on the gurney for transport because he sensed something was wrong.
“He was a brave kid,” Gretchen said, “but he fell apart when he realized that we were not taking him home.”
An hour and 12 minutes after arriving at the hospice facility, Luke died in his mother’s arms.
“I’m so sad to see him gone,” said his father, “but the suffering is over, and I am so thankful I had those 26 years with him. It was absolutely the best gift of my life.”
