From Tragedy to Triumph

ARTICLE BY VANELIS RIVERA

PHOTOGRAPHY BY KELLY MOORE CLARK

AN EASY LIFE DOESN’T NECESSARILY MAKE FOR A GOOD STORY. Matt Branch, former Louisiana State Football player, used to see obstacles as a hindrance, but after experiencing a major amputation he has learned that obstacles are opportunities for growth and to strengthen character. Branch has not had an easy life. But now he has a story, and one that after three years, he still finds surreal but definitely worth telling. 

Born in Monroe, Louisiana, Branch was raised in Rayville. “Church was a big part of my life growing up. Dad always had us in church Wednesdays and Sundays,” he recalls. Like most southern boys, hunting, fishing, and sports were significant parts of his life. He excelled as a young athlete in baseball and football. He remembers sitting on his bed as a child and praying to God that he would not be as tall as his father because he wanted to be a running back like Emmitt Smith (5’ 9”). “I’m 6’ 6”…so, obviously, that prayer was not answered,” he laughs. Though baseball was his favorite sport growing up, he got notoriety for his performance on the football field. By the time he was finishing high school, he was getting scholarship offers and choosing LSU was a no-brainer. “That was my team,” he says, mentioning trips his family would take to Tiger Stadium and recalling the “electric energy” of the fans.

ollege football was a bit of a wake-up call for Branch, though.  “In high school, you get a lot of attention, and you get a lot of recognition.” In college, he had to start at ground zero. Looking back, he knows he could have worked harder. “I definitely didn’t push myself to my limit like I should have. And so… after four and a half years, I came back with a broken heart, trying to figure out, you know, what to do, where to pick up the pieces from there.” Those pieces led the way back to his roots. “I basically grew up on a farm,” he relates. Knowing diverse jobs in agriculture were available, he applied with a product distributor and began working his way up the ladder. That led to his current employment at Corteva Agriscience. “You know, doing everything I thought would make me happy,” he says, referring to marrying his high school sweetheart and growing a family. 

“Then, one tragic day comes along, and life changes forever,” he says. On December 28, 2018, Branch was loading equipment into a Polaris Ranger after a morning duck hunt with friends when a black labrador retriever jumped into the cargo bed, stepping on a shotgun. “Dog shoots man,” read one headline. Branch was hit in the leg with the 12-gauge round, which severed his femoral artery. At one point his heart stopped beating. He recalls thinking, “This is it. This is all my life will ever be.” For the most part, he didn’t like what he saw. “I lived a very selfish life just trying to do what I wanted to do and you know, not really considering how others may feel.” He has yet to quiet his memory of those moments. Even after three years, the disbelief still sets in. From the moment of the accident to the arduous process of recovery, everything he has been through still floors him. “It’s a constant reminder of how fragile life is.” 

Branch’s stages of understanding and acceptance were staggered. At first, he didn’t know where he was because he had been in a coma for 12 days. Hospital personnel began to spoon-feed him bits of information, breaking the news of his coma, the gunshot, and finally the amputation. Still a bit out of it, he didn’t completely register the severity of the situation. Even when his dad towered into the room, sat down with tears in his eyes, and reiterated, “Son, they had to take your leg,” Branch’s response was clouded by the haze of exhaustion and meds. He sat there for a few seconds and responded with, “Okay, so could you go get me some mac and cheese now, PaPa?” He started coming to in the next couple of weeks, reality sinking in along with anger, and morbid thoughts beating him down. “I remember, I was in a bad place one day,” he says. “Mad at myself, at the world, mad at God.” And when the clinical therapist arrived for his check-up, he ached for the life his son was robbed of. “She just stopped and looked at me and she said, ‘Well, isn’t it better that your son have a father than not have a father?’” 

Though he understood anger was a natural response, he also allowed himself to embrace the fact that the worst had not come to pass. “I still have work to do. And it’s up to me now; I got to figure out how to do it.” He credits his wife Liana for her tenacity and steadfast spirit during those trying times. “There’s no way I could be where I am today if it wasn’t for her,” he asserts. Between never leaving his side while he was in the ICU to constantly having to make urgent medical decisions, he’s in awe of her strength. “I just can’t imagine what an emotional train ride that she went through. And for her to just constantly be by my side through all this, through the good times and the bad times, I’m just forever, forever grateful to her for what she’s done,” he says, bringing up statistics he heard about the low success rate of relationships that make it through a partner’s amputation. “She never even considered it, never even had an inkling of wanting to leave and get out,” he says. At the time, the couple had a son, now they have a daughter who is currently one and a half. They consider her “the miracle baby” because he was never supposed to make it. She represents his life coming full circle, back to a form of normalcy that, though altered, tastes a lot like victory.

“When I woke up, I couldn’t move,” he recalls. His body had lost so much of its muscle strength that he couldn’t grab a bottle of water. The recovery process taught him what starting at zero truly meant and the power of reaching a goal step-by-step. Focusing on the small things like sitting up in bed on his own, granted him further acceptance and kept him motivated for the next steps to come: standing, putting his remaining foot forward, and finally with a walker hopping his way down the hall. “That’s a way that anybody can approach life,” he says, believing goals should always be approached with small changes over time. Regardless of the light at the end of the tunnel, the experience was heartbreaking. But whenever he felt that jagged pain, he had to remind himself he wasn’t a stranger to heart-wrenching blows. Though not the same, the hard lesson of a disappointing football career allowed him to recognize the value in that trial run. So he began to tell himself, “you’ve got a lot of hard work ahead of you. And if you start taking shortcuts from the get-go, then you’re never going to get to where you could have been.”

Another valuable lesson learned during his struggle was the immense generosity he received from his community. “It was overwhelming,” he says, recalling the moment he was told the GoFundMe account that had been set up for him raised over $100,000.00. “That just… brought me to tears. I didn’t know I had this many friends. You know, I didn’t know this many people cared so much about me,” he says. The outpouring of love inspired him to care more strongly for others. He has had others struggling with a physical disability or hindrance ask him for advice, which he willingly provides. He’s proud to find solace in embodying a “servant, Christ-centered mindset,” considering it one of the things that was dramatically changed his life. He likes to remind others going through struggles that they are not alone. “There’s somebody else out there who is struggling with what you’re struggling with,” he stresses, adding, “Life goes on, like life is worth living, no matter what you face. You know, death is so certain, where life is full of just infinite possibilities.”

Branch has now reached a place of becoming more independent. He is able to drive thanks to physical therapy and his 4-foot prosthesis, though his new normal is still quite new. He is constantly finding ways to adjust to the movements he once took for granted like playing with his kids, standing up, or cooking in the kitchen. “I have to figure out and be kind of creative to get through it. And, I guess, with my personality… it’s almost exciting to me,” he says, regarding the discovery of what he can still do and what he still has to figure out. For instance, when he comes home, he can’t simply pick up his youngest and squeeze and hold her as he’d like. Instead, when she runs to him with a big smile on her face, she hugs his leg. 

Branch has shared his story dozens of times, speaking in churches and schools about faith in Christ and mental toughness, as well as gun safety, considering sharing his story part of what God had planned. “I’m just continuing doing that wherever I’m needed,” he says, understanding more and more that this life is not just about him, but about those around him and how he affects them. By spreading his unfathomable experience, Branch hopes to deliver the message that on the other side of doubt lies freedom.