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SPORTS ILLUSTRATED AUGUS T 26–SEP TEM
BER 2, 2019
IT’S JUNE, and Keanon Lowe can only shake his
head as he traverses the same Parkrose hallway,
touching the white walls. He can still see Granados-Diaz’s
eyes widen, the other teenagers’ mad dashes toward safety.
Their screams still echo in his ears.
This is his first time back in Mr. Melzer’s classroom
and he can’t help but consider all the events that led him
here. All the practices, the SEALs training, the extra reps.
How he never expected to coach and yet became one. How
his friend’s death shook him and led him home. How he
took a job nobody wanted and
showed a team and a school
what might be possible. How he
found himself at the center of
the three biggest epidemics in
modern-day America, confront-
ing poverty and opioid addic-
tion and gun violence, all before
he turned 27. Heavy stuff.
He draws a direct line from
all of that to the calamity he
prevented. Kelly does too. “Ke-
anon’s preparation for what
happened,” he says, “has been
ingrained in him for a long,
long time.”
Lowe brushes off any talk
about his being a hero. He
doesn’t feel like one. “It still
doesn’t seem real,” he says. “I
was there for a reason, at the
right time. I truly believe my
entire life prepared me for that
moment, not to flinch.”
The day after the shooting
that never happened, Lowe
returned to Parkrose to watch
security tape of the incident, analyzing it like game cut-
ups. He matched the footage from the hallway with his
own time line, noting that while he went into the wrong
classroom, Granados-Diaz exited the bathroom. As Lowe
entered Mr. Melzer’s room, Granados-Diaz lumbered down
the hallway, holding his shotgun the way a solider might,
with both hands. And as Lowe asked where Granados-Diaz
might be, the boy opened the door right next to him. On
the footage you can eventually see them both spill back
into the hallway before Lowe wrestles the shotgun away.
“I never thought about my life,” Lowe says. “This isn’t
heavy on my soul. The universe has been working with
me for a long time.”
He shrugs. “I was right where I was supposed to be.” ±
Lowe looked into his eyes. “I care about you,” he said.
“ You do? ”
Lowe says that broke his heart, seeing Granados-Diaz
raise his head and return his gaze. “I do, bro!” Lowe
said. “That’s why I’m here. I got you, buddy.”
A dozen cops eventually barreled around the corner,
guns drawn. (That part scared Lowe the most, as he tried
to flip his school ID badge in their direction.) Officers
pinned Granados-Diaz facedown, snapping handcuffs
around his wrists as Lowe continued to console him.
Only later did it all start
to sink in. “Like, holy s---,”
Lowe says. “I just took a f--
---- shotgun from this kid.”
LOWE SKIPPED t he
district track meet that
afternoon. Instead, after
meeting with police, he went
back to his mother’s house,
where his family found him
to be remarkably calm. In
those first hours he would
return just two of the dozens
of calls he received after news
of the near catastrophe start-
ed scrolling across television
tickers. First he dialed Kelly, who asked his former player
what form he used in subduing Granados-Diaz.
“It’s like what you taught me on kickoff cover-
age, Coach,” Lowe responded. “Technique doesn’t
ultimately matter. Just get him down by any means
necessa r y.”
Then he called Brian Martinek. “Taylor was with me,”
he said. “He was right there the whole time.”
In the weeks that followed Lowe would be com-
mended by the U.S. Congress, the Oregon State Senate
and the Portland police; he would be gifted Blazers
playoff tickets by Damian Lillard and cited by Warriors
coach Steve Kerr for his “remarkable act of courage.”
He would also collect the district’s track coach of the
year award, an honor he learned about the evening of
the altercation. Meanwhile Granados-Diaz was charged
with possessing a firearm in public and with reckless
endangerment; he pleaded not guilty on May 29. (Po-
lice found only one shell in his shotgun.) He is still in
custody, due in court on Aug. 23; he could face up to
five years in prison.
Lowe hopes that one day he and Granados-Diaz can
meet again, under different circumstances. But he’s not
quite ready to reach out. Not yet.
GOOD CITATIONS
Among those who
honored Lowe:
the Portland PD,
who handed him
a Civilian Medal
of Heroism.
