Spreading safety message to children

The sharp edge of loss weaves itself around Jean Davidson’s memories of her grandson, Ryder Davidson Oeflein. “He was such an energetic boy who loved to jump and hop and ski,” she said, but hidden beneath the bravado of words is a painful emptiness.

That pain led Davidson to develop the Yell and Tell program and dedicate it to her grandson.

In May 2006 the melting Colorado snow was swiftly filling local irrigation ditches. Four-year-old Ryder and his friend were enjoying a Popsicle when they wandered toward the ditch – the forbidden zone.

At times a child’s curiosity trumps caution and in this case, Ryder’s friend was not only curious but also fascinated by the rushing water. He inched closer to the ditch when his foot slipped. In desperation he grabbed Ryder. Both boys skidded into the water.

The friend’s older brother was there but because this was a forbidden zone, “he got scared and ran. Children either run or say nothing because they don’t want to get in trouble,” said Davidson, Ryder’s grandmother and the granddaughter of Walter Davidson a founder of the Harley-Davidson motorcycle dynasty.

The story has a tragic ironic ending. “He did tell his mom and she ran outside yelling. My son (Ryder’s dad) is an EMT and was about 100 yards from the ditch. He thought the boys were in the house. He ran to the ditch and fished out the first body and gave the child mouth to mouth … but that wasn’t his child,” Davidson said quietly. “He saved the other child and lost his own.”

Although gifted with a feisty independent spirit, Davidson, mother of five, grandmother of seven, educator, naturalist and author deeply felt fate’s biting snap. Yet, amid the tragedy, a path emerged.

“After the funeral I thought how can we teach children what to do when they see something dangerous?” she said. “Then I started looking at accidents and realized that tons of these types of things happen all the time.”

Davidson set to work and began the Davidson Yell and Tell Foundation then devised a program that focuses on teaching children how to combat five dangers – water, poison, fire, guns and child enticement – with four practical steps: See it (observing something dangerous); feel it (feeling something is wrong – scared); yell (scream to alert attention) and tell (the nearest adult).

“I wrote the curriculum then I contacted an artist in Oregon to create pamphlets and draw the mascot, Squawk,” Davidson said. “As far as I know this is the only program aimed at the child that sees something dangerous happening.”

By November 2007 Davidson took her Yell and Tell program to elementary schools. During the presentations, she teaches children how to react and become proactive if they observe a dangerous situation.

So far, the program has two heroes under its belt further fueling Davidson’s desire to have Yell and Tell taught to every child “so they’ll automatically know what to do when things go wrong. I want to teach them to be a hero.”

A talented storyteller, children enthusiastically respond to Davidson and the program, but at 70, she’s feeling the exhaustion and financial strain that come with such a task.

“The funding isn’t going to come from the schools; they’re stretched as it is. It’s going to have to come from outside sources. That’s one reason so many people are willing to meet with me, because I don’t know how to get the funding for this program. I’m a schoolteacher and a great storyteller, but I’m not a fundraiser,” she chuckled.

Although the foundation has sponsors, Davidson still digs into her piggy bank and relies on the Harley-Davidson motorcycling family to keep the program afloat through benefit rides. She hopes more corporate and individual sponsors will contribute to the charitable foundation so Yell and Tell can be taught free of charge in schools and children’s programs nationwide.

Davidson also hopes that organizations and individuals who work with children will learn to teach the program. “It’s so easy anyone can do it,” she said.

The loss of a child is devastating and leaves behind a tangled web of pain and lost dreams. Davidson knows this all too well.

“You just don’t think there’s going to be some tragic thing, and then it happens,” she said. “You have no idea where your life is going to go tomorrow after what might happen to you today.”

For Davidson, this program is a cherished gift from a grandmother to her grandson for the benefit of all children. “This is for Ryder,” she said. “I don’t want another child dying because I didn’t get it out there fast enough.”