September 12, 2018, published on BleacherReport.com
More than a thousand people came to James Ransom’s funeral. His parents, Greg and Courtney, and his sisters, Julia and Lillie, were in attendance, each one imbued with a sorrow that crashed like waves. James’ buddies were there; some wore bright yellow sneakers and ties—an homage to James’ love of SpongeBob SquarePants. His elementary and middle school teachers, his football teammates and coaches, his neighbors and other members of the community all came. Row by row, they packed the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in Mission Viejo, California, full of grief, full of love.
“He never knew how many lives he touched,” Lillie says. “He never knew how many people loved him, how many people needed him.”
Giant poster boards bearing James’ face were sprinkled throughout the church. Greg made them. He had been too devastated to put them together at first, but Courtney nudged him to do it. He found joy in the process, however—combing through the albums, picking the photos he liked best, seeing his son’s doughy cheeks. His son in his football uniform, swallowed by giant shoulder pads, proudly clutching a football. His son dressed up as Harry Potter for Halloween. His son and wife rolling their top lips over, making funny faces. (READ FULL STORY HERE).