Life -- a simple thing that vanishes too fast, especially for those who seem to love it most.
That's what happened to Kevin Dare.
Strong and young, the Penn State pole vaulter charged down a runway in Minneapolis two years ago, head full of Olympic dreams.
Those he loved said he was like the mythical ideal student athlete from a bygone era, and when he planted his pole in the vault box at the 2002 Big Ten indoor track championships, he was rising.
But somewhere, something went wrong, and Kevin Dare fell back to earth.
Dead at 19. The doctors said he died instantly.
And so those left behind could only ask, why Kevin? Why one of the ones who loved life and was sure to miss it the most?
It was a very long plane ride home for Ed Dare, Kevin's father. He had watched his youngest son, his best friend, killed when his head struck the exposed steel launch box.
All he could say to himself, over and over again, was "it was supposed to be track and field; it was supposed to be a fun day."
Then came the phone call.
He had just walked into the house when a woman from Florida called, saying her 16-year-old son had died two weeks before in a similar accident. That's the first time Ed Dare stopped.
"I just said, 'Wait a minute, two kids just died here,' " Ed Dare said.
He was grieving, of course, with his wife and remaining son Eric -- the Penn State junior who threw javelin and played football -- figuring out how they would manage without the one who would always crack a joke.
But the thought was already rolling around in his head that something had to change.
This was only a sport after all, not something to die for. But so many competitors had died -- nine over a five-year period -- so why hadn't someone already fixed the sport of pole vaulting?
Ed Dare wasn't the only one think-
ing these things. His inbox was being flooded with e-mail messages from around the country, messages from Sweden. People he had never met sent their sympathy, asking if there was anything they could do to help. He saved every one.
That's when Ed Dare resolved that the sport of pole vaulting had to be fixed, not abolished, because that's what Kevin would have wanted. It wasn't long before he was on the phone with Penn State Athletic Director Tim Curley, who was having thoughts of reform himself.
Now, two years later, they believe they have laid the foundation, both through rules changes and technological innovation, for making the sport safer -- work they say will continue for as long as necessary.
Bill Farrell was scanning his Penn State alumni newswire one night when he read that a Penn State pole vaulter had been killed in competition. He e-mailed his condolences to the Dare family and mentioned he works for a company that makes padding.
The company was Skydex, and Farrell was one of the first people Dare and Curley contacted about ways to make the sport safer. During their discussions, the question that kept coming up was why, in this day and age, are athletes still using vault boxes made of steel and concrete?
Farrell, a 1959 graduate, told them about the Skydex padding his company had developed. It is the same type of padding used in the Schutt DNA football helmet, introduced last year. The Navy SEALS use Skydex to line the decks of their boats.
The engineers at Skydex believed they could create a vault box out of the shock-absorbent plastic. They began working with 1972 Olympic bronze medalist pole vaulter Jan Johnson, testing prototypes for what would eventually become the 506 Skydex Soft Vault Box.

