People often ask me who Luken was. I could tell them he loved football, basketball, baseball, golf, fishing, and riding his bike. I could tell them he had just finished eighth grade and was excited to start high school. All of those things are true. But what I want people to know first and foremost is this:
Luken was kind.
He was the young man who noticed someone standing alone. He welcomed others, especially those who felt left out. He believed everyone deserved to feel seen, valued, and included. Luken was generous with compliments, spreading joy everywhere he went. Kindness wasn’t something he practiced occasionally—it was simply who he was.
On July 31, 2017, our lives changed forever.
After an incident of cyberbullying, my 14-year-old son made an impulsive decision that ended his life. In a single moment, our life as we knew it ended as well. I stepped into a nightmare. I had entered a world no parent ever imagines.
The hours that followed are forever etched in my heart.
I will never forget the first responders who rushed in to take over giving my sweet boy CPR. I will never forget the emergency physicians, nurses, respiratory therapists, and every member of the trauma team who fought with every ounce of their knowledge, skill, and compassion to save my son’s life.
They did not know Luken.Yet, in those moments, they loved him enough to give everything they had.

As a mother, I was overwhelmed by fear and unimaginable heartbreak. My family was living through the worst day of our lives.
Years later, I’ve come to understand something I couldn’t see in those first unbearable hours.
That day did not wound only our family. It also touched every paramedic who answered the call, every nurse who cared for Luken, every physician who refused to stop trying, and every member of the healthcare team who walked out of that room carrying the quiet ache that comes when a child cannot be saved.
Their grief is not the same as ours. But it is real.
As a mother, I want every first responder and healthcare professional who cared for Luken to know that our family has never forgotten their compassion, their courage, or their humanity. After the organized chaos of trying to save my son had come to a halt, I was brought in to sit with Luken.Â
As reality set in, the guilt hit me and I began to question everything that was said and done in the moments leading up to Luken taking his life. The details began pouring out of me as I shared what happened with the team of doctors and nurses who tried so hard to save his life.Â
In my mind, they had every right to judge me, and I felt I deserved to be blamed for Luken’s death. Instead they mourned with me. They told me that I handled the situation better than they would have and made me feel that we were in this moment together. They were with my son when he needed them most and they were there for me as well. They continue to carry the emotional weight of moments like these long after the rest of the world has moved on, and they will never know how their compassion helped bring me comfort when I needed it most. For that, they have my deepest gratitude.
Then came the grief.
There are simply no words that can describe the silence that follows the loss of a child. Birthdays become reminders. Holidays are forever changed. Empty chairs speak louder than words. Every milestone becomes another moment when you realize someone you love should still be here.

Like every grieving parent, I searched for answers. I wondered what I had missed. I replayed conversations. I asked questions that could never be answered.
Eventually, I realized that living in those questions would never bring Luken back. Instead, they led me to another question: What can we do to make sure another family never has to experience this heartbreak? That question became our purpose.
Our family made a promise that Luken’s story would not end with tragedy. If we could not change what happened to him, perhaps we could change what happens to someone else. That promise became the Luken T. Boyle Campaign for Kindness.
Today, our mission is to promote kindness, prevent bullying and cyberbullying, encourage conversations about mental health, and help create schools and communities where every child feels they belong.
Over the past eight years, I have met thousands of students, parents, educators, healthcare professionals, and community members. Again and again, I hear stories that remind me one person truly can make a difference.
One encouraging text. One invitation to join a lunch table. One teacher who notices. One friend who refuses to laugh at someone else’s humiliation. One adult willing to ask, “Are you okay?”
Kindness changes lives.
Today’s children carry incredible power in the palm of their hands. Through a smartphone, they can encourage someone—or devastate them. They can make another child feel included—or completely alone.
Technology itself isn’t the problem. How we choose to use it is.
I believe we can do better. I believe kindness can become contagious. I believe we can teach our children that compassion is strength, empathy is courage, and every person deserves dignity—both online and in person. Most of all, I believe Luken’s legacy is not defined by how he died. It is defined by how he lived.
That is why I hope you will join us for the 9th Annual Luken T. Boyle Kindness Rally on Thursday, July 23, from 4 to 7 p.m. at Hensville Park in downtown Toledo.
Come with your family. Bring your children. Gather your friends. Meet the people who have become part of this movement.
Celebrate kindness. Leave inspired to make a difference. But don’t let your commitment end when the rally is over. Join our Campaign for Kindness. Make kindness intentional every day. Choose words that heal instead of hurt. Stand beside someone who feels alone. Speak up when bullying happens. Teach your children that every message they send, every comment they post, and every interaction they have is an opportunity to change someone’s life.
We cannot change what happened to Luken, but together, we can change what happens to the next child. That is my promise to my son. It is also my invitation to you. Please join us. Spread kindness. Protect one another. And together, let’s save lives.
*The Toledo Free Press has a story forthcoming with more details on the Campaign for Kindness and upcoming rally.














