Wrestling with fate: Roosevelt coach guides family

Darrell Kortan knows control.

He knows it when it's wound tightly, as in wrestling — cutting weight, grappling on the mat, the quiet struggle of one athlete against another.

And he knows it when it's spiraling away from him. His life has been defined by opportunities missed and found, from the minute to the major.

"We all want to control our environment," said Kortan, in his fifth year as Roosevelt's wrestling coach and now with a team that stands a chance at the first state title in the city in 40 years.

But nothing is certain in life, and he knows that maybe better than anyone.

'Power of love'

Kortan missed the stolen and abandoned garbage truck, jutting into his lane on Interstate 29 on the night of Aug. 14, 1988. When the family's Ford Bronco collided with the disabled truck, Kortan's 24-year-old wife, Kelly, 4-year-old daughter, Jenni, 22-month old daughter, Ashli, and 6-year-old niece, Nicole, all were killed.

By some miracle, Darrell, and his 6-year old daughter, Staci, survived.

"The good Lord makes no promises to us," says Kortan, who also teaches health and physical education classes at Roosevelt now. "You go through the process and think, 'That was taken away from me.' But then you get to a point where you're grateful for having it in the first place."

Darrell and Staci were hospitalized for weeks after the accident. Darrell was left with a punctured lung, a severed kneecap and severed ligaments in his thumb, a badly damaged ankle and cuts to his face and legs. Staci broke her pelvis and jaw and suffered deep cuts on her back.

The physical toll, the hundreds of stitches, the year of rehab were the minor parts of Kortan's recovery. Navigating the emotional wreckage would take time.

He talks of how Kelly taught him "the power of love," and the time they spent with their young family.

Before the accident, the Kortans visited the Black Hills. It was their first vacation all together. They rode horses, and Kelly and the girls sang songs in the car. Jenni, a preschooler, was fascinated by the ever-present logos at the Super 8 motel where they stayed.

"Those darn eights are everywhere," Darrell remembers her raising her hands and saying. "(Kids) are such a sponge of life. And that is such an infectious thing to be around."

That small moment has stayed with him, and the wonder of childhood and a desire to help kids succeed drew him to coaching.

Embracing change

Kortan grew up the youngest boy of seven siblings in a working-class family. His mom worked in factory, and his dad wasn't around much after his parents divorced when he was a freshman wrestler at Washington High School.

That was the same year he started dating his eventual wife, Kelly.

Kortan thinks his success on the mat was limited by his circumstances — he didn't hone his skills in wrestling camps and then compete in college. Instead, he finished high school and started working at a restaurant, where his strong work ethic helped him quickly move into management.

But after his wife and family died, he reevaluated his life and revisited his dreams, committing himself to a college degree and a career in coaching. There, he thought, he'd be able to make a difference. He'd do his part to make the sport of wrestling more accessible.

He got his start coaching middle school wrestling while he was still a student at Augustana College, moving from Axtell Park to Patrick Henry and then Memorial.

The connections he made along the way included standout wrestlers such as Jacob and Jon Forster, and future two-time All-American Aaron Graumann.

As his professional life changed, so did his personal life.

He married Tiffany in 1994, and they welcomed another daughter, Brittany. Staci, now 12, had a new step-mom. Two years later, she had a brother, Brock, and then another brother, Kobe, was born in 1998.

"You love all your kids unconditionally. You really do," said Kortan, who coached his daughters in various sports. "When that boy is born, though, there's a little something different. Maybe it's the whole namesake. You get that mentality of immortality."

Finally he could share his favorite sport with his boys. Kortan immersed himself in his sons' youth wrestling programs, so much so that he stepped away from coaching middle school to instead coach them.

In 2010, with Brittany now a sophomore at Roosevelt and Brock waiting in the wings as an eighth-grader, school officials approached Darrell about the newly vacant coaching position. The timing was perfect. Brock already wrestled at the varsity level, and sixth-grader Kobe wasn't far behind. Brittany assumed team manager duties.

"As much as a commitment that it was, our family was already going to be investing that time anyway," said Tiffany Kortan, who already was involved in her sons' youth teams. "It became a family affair right away."

But it already was a family affair of sorts — Kortan had coached several of the varsity wrestlers as youths at Midwest Wrestling, where his team won the only two years titles were awarded.

"The thing that's been special — most of these boys have been together since they were about five," Tiffany said. "We've been able to meet families along the way that are still a part of the program today."

She says her husband takes his role seriously. "I see him forming bonds with boys that maybe don't have that father figure in their lives."

Kortan sees it as a calling. "I'm going to use the sport of wrestling to help kids learn to be successful," he says.

His son, Kobe, says having his father as a coach can be hard.

"He never has to worry about boundaries — whether he's pushing us too hard — because he knows how strong we are. It's made us better," he said.

At the same time, it isn't always easy being sons to the coach.

"We always joke with the team and other coaches: On bad days when he's pissed, at least they don't have to go home with him," Brock said.

A son's setback

From different vantage points at a regional tournament in Watertown last year, Tiffany and Darrell watched as their son Brock broke his ankle and tibia in a freak accident.

Tiffany had learned over the years not to run to the mat if her sons were hurt, but the seriousness of Brock's injury was apparent.

Darrell rushed to Brock's side. Kobe shielded Tiffany's view.

After 10 days of waiting for the swelling to go down, Brock had 14 screws inserted throughout his leg, with a band holding everything together. The 132-pound junior would have to put off state title dreams for at least another year.

Roosevelt, hobbled and missing more than a third of its wrestlers because of injuries, earned three individual titles but finished third as a team at the state tournament.

Brock would face months of appointments, surgeries and physical therapy. He'd have plenty of time to make his way back to the mat and try to make good on his title aspirations, he thought.

The day before he was scheduled to return to wrestling, things were looking up. He made weight at 138 pounds. But as he and a friend were walking through the CTE parking lot, they were struck by a speeding car. Brock was thrown to the asphalt, while his friend went into the windshield and up over the roof of the car.

Somehow, they weren't seriously injured.

"You get that deep-seated pit in your stomach that — this is not good," Darrell said of the call about his son. "We knew that at some point he'd be back on the mat and finish his senior season. We knew it was going to be a setback, but it was not something that couldn't be overcome."

Brock gutted himself back to the mat within a week of the accident, with less than favorable results. The blunt trauma to his ribs and sides went through to his back, leaving the 18-year-old with back pain and muscle spasms. His weeks would become divided among class, practice and seeing chiropractors and massage therapists.

"Being injured it's — once it happens it's never the same. My left ankle is never going to be the same," Brock Kortan said. "It's one of those mental things you have to push through and get over. You can't let it hold you down, like with the pain. You have to use it as motivation to keep grinding."

But just like his father had to navigate the emotions after his own accident, Brock would have to do the same. His goal of college wrestling was becoming increasingly unlikely.

Brother Kobe, meanwhile, was off to a strong sophomore campaign in the 126-pound class. Defending state champions Brandon Carroll, Kahlen Morris and 2013 champ Kyle Yasgar all started strong. Zach Determan became a force at 152 pounds. Darrell's squad, a group that has been wrestling together for more than a decade, was putting it together.

Family comes first

When Darrell Kortan takes the time to step back, he sees a circular nature to how his life unfolded.

"You look back at where you're at, how you got there. You realize you got a lot of help to get there," Kortan said.

Kelly helped him realize his priority — family.

His oldest daughter, Staci, is a nurse at Sanford, just like Kelly was.

Brittany, a sophomore at SDSU, often takes on the "Nate Silver" role at wrestling tournaments, predicting with exactitude how the brackets will shake out with up-to-date statistical analysis.

His second wife, Tiffany, helps him draw the line between father and coach with their two sons.

Brock and Kobe share in the family business and are an extension of their father on the mat.

The Kortans remain close with Kelly's family, all these years later. "Family is an action thing, not a blood thing," Kortan said. "It's about the way people act in your lives — the way they help you, support you and pick you back up."

Darrell's on-the-mat family continues to grow, emboldened by recent triumphs.

At the Floyd Farrand Invitational on Dec. 30-31, an annual tournament that features some of the best wrestlers from across the state in both classes, Roosevelt advanced five wrestlers to title matches, winning two and earning the prized team title. Kobe claimed the 126-pound championship.

Brock, less than a month removed from his accident, finished second in the stacked 138-pound division, losing to three-time defending Class B state champion Luke Loudenburg of Howard.

Just don't expect Kortan to get too excited. That would go against his approach. Ask Kortan and he'll tell you Roosevelt is a "David and Goliath" type of underdog going into the state tournament.

Don't confuse that for incredulity on the 50-year-old coach's part. He knows how good his team can be.

But what happens if it all falls short? What if Roosevelt doesn't deliver the city its first state title since 1972. What if Brock falls short in what could be his final time competing?

"He's earned a lot of second places in his life," Tiffany said of her husband. "It's not his favorite number to get. The bonds of the boys, the memories — those are the things that last."

In other words, there's more at stake than winning.

"Life isn't going to be dictated by what happens to you," Kortan said. "It's going to be dictated by how you react to what happens to you."

That reaction, Kortan knows, might be the only thing under anyone's control.