KENT CITY, Mich. — It's been over a year since Colin Rogers was dragged behind a car after an argument over a vape pen, leaving him comatose with a severe brain injury. Today, Colin continues to fight to stay alive, with family saying every day "little victories" inspire them to fight alongside him.
Colin has been in and out of the hospital since the incident in 2023, being housed in Mary Free Bed for a period of time, before eventually ending up where he is today, in the care of his parents.
"There's no description for it, just like there's no word for when a son or a daughter passes away. But you... you kind of take your mind off of it," said Clay Rogers, Colin's father. "If I spend a lot of time thinking of him, I'm going to break down and I'm going to, that's going to be a bad day for me."
"You pull through, not only for him, but you pull through for everybody else too," Rogers added.
Since January, Colin has undergone several surgeries—now being able to breathe on his own without using a trach. Rogers said Colin feels stronger with more eye movement, often stretching or yawning in his wheelchair.
Colin works closely with a speech therapist, now letting out occasional hums or moans throughout the day.
"He's a strong kid," Rogers said. "He's getting some more of his focus back. He's getting more mobility back, but he tends to keep his arm up. He's a good kid."
Rogers said that with as much time that has passed, he's had time to reflect on where Colin is today, finding peace in those small moments of improvement. Rogers said to an outside observer, Colin looks the same as he did six months ago but knows in his heart that Colin's gotten better.
"He's still got a little bit of a sense of humor," Rogers said. "We would trick each other to look at the middle finger...It's happened twice, he'll come out and he'll have his middle finger out, and he doesn't do that, because he keeps his hand cupped for the most part. It's tremendously funny."
Through his work with the speech therapist, Colin's been able to find a form of communication with those around him.
"One day, I asked him, I'm like, 'Hey, it's Dad. Do you remember me?' And he rolled his eyes and blinked really fast," Rogers said. "He'll blink twice for yes... They taught him to turn his head to the right for no. So yeah, he's, he's cool. He was a really super cool guy."
Moments like these, Rogers said, is what inspires him to keep pushing.
"It's terribly hard, but it's terribly heartwarming at the same time too," Rogers said. "We've had the community come out, and they've been extremely uplifting, you know, encouraging, supportive. We're very blessed in that respect."
Rogers attributed a part of his strength to the community around him. Even new homes and families that have moved in have offered their help. Rogers' neighbor mows his lawn anytime it starts to be overgrown. Rogers said he's never had to ask.
"We've got a lot of people who follow this story. And, you know, they tell us stories of their loved ones or people that they knew, interacted with, and they say things such as, hey, you know, 10 years after this happened, one day they wake up—because he is in a coma," Rogers said. "We hope so. I mean, I don't know anybody in anybody's position that wouldn't want that."
While Rogers said he's hopeful that Colin will come back to his normal self, with a year passing, it's impossible not to be concerned.
"I don't think it's unreasonable to say that after a year or two years or five years, you might not want to live this way," Rogers said.
"This isn't much of a life," Rogers added. "I mean, he's here supporting us ... That's a little bit disheartening, you know, because you do wonder, is he going to get better? We don't really know."
Rogers said he hurts for the experiences Colin may never live through.
"He'd be going off to college this fall," Rogers said. "All the things that he won't experience in life, and all of the things that we won't experience because of his experiences there, I wouldn't say they're traumatizing, but I mean, what are you going to do? You got to go on. You've got to live your life for the lives that, you know, that are still here."
While time keeps passing, Rogers said he's worried Colin may wake up one day to a different world—one that continues to hurt him.
"Unfortunately, last week we had to put his dog down. That was terribly hard, because he was our family dog, but he was Colin's dog, and he got cancer and passed away," Rogers said. "I guess for me, I'm afraid that he's going to wake up and, you know, he has a niece now that he didn't have before this happened, which would probably be pretty strange for him."
In the meantime, Rogers supports his whole family, working non-stop to provide for Colin, his wife and other children. Even that, Rogers said, comes with its own worries.
Late January, Rogers had an aneurysm, leaving him hospitalized.
"What would happen to him if I was passed away, because my wife, her job is now to take care of him, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and that's what she does," Rogers said. "It's extremely difficult. But it would be insane to put him in a home where he wouldn't get the level of care that he gets with us."
Rogers said the experience jaded him to the systems set in place to help.
"Why should he ever have to worry about anything in his life? I shouldn't have to worry about him being taken care of for the rest of his life," Rogers said. "I kind of see it a little bit differently than I used to, and I never really thought about it before this circumstance."
Rogers said what frustrates him most is the red tape he's forced to jump through. He's currently waiting for an addition to be attached to his home, to make it more wheelchair friendly for Colin, and give him a room that isn't the family's living room.
"These situations are created by society, but they have no way to deal with them, no way to manage them," Rogers said. "I understand business. I understand bureaucracy ... I have never been coarse or whatever with them, because it's not going to do me any good."
Ultimately, Rogers said he wants what's best for Colin—to give him as normal of a life as possible while he heals.
"We're going to figure out a way to for him to go and do different things," Rogers said. "Maybe that interaction with society might, you know, spark something in his brain to bring him back."
"We just want him back, and we want to live a semi normal life," Rogers added. "I don't think life is ever going to be the same the way he is, but, you know, I think he can, I think he can heal."