Capt. Bill Dagon of the Spokane Valley Fire Department hangs a black shroud on a fire engine for the funeral procession for Corissa Yasen on Saturday. Yasen's father, Don, is a 20-year veteran of the Valley department.
Coeur d'Alene _ They say Corissa Yasen was the kind of athlete who could silence a crowd, halting entire track meets to watch her jump.
They say she could electrify an arena, at 6 feet tall and able to dunk a basketball.
And when they tire of trying to explain what kind of athlete Corissa Yasen was, when they get frustrated trying to find words to match her motion, they simply shrug their shoulders and say: You should have seen her.
At Yasen's funeral Saturday, mourners swarmed around Don and Linda Yasen, some to say their daughter would never be forgotten, others to say they couldn't believe she was gone. Don, in cowboy boots and a black suit, grasped at hands and shoulders as friends and family pressed in around him. Corissa's mother Linda, a quiet, graceful woman, stood next to her husband and accepted the condolences.
"Corissa was the daughter of Coeur d'Alene," said Mark Normington, a family friend and former coach. "She belonged to all of us."
Her father found Yasen dead at her home on A Street in Coeur d'Alene last weekend, a shocking and mysterious end for one of the greatest athletes in Idaho history.
Long before the 27-year-old Yasen, a national champion in the heptathlon and a former professional basketball player, was struck down by an unknown cause, her athletic prowess was approaching legend.
Newspapers from opposing towns wrote stories about her. Little girls and young women wrote her letters.
This REALLY surprised me! I was not ready for this. I cannot remember if we ever actually spoke, and it would not surprise me if we did not. I was a real nobody, you were the champion of the entire school, and later, even more. You did SO MUCH in your much-too-short-of-a-lifetime with us! I remeber being proud of you, because that meant I could be proud of the school. One day, I could tell people "I went to school with her!" And I will!
I was so surprised by finding this out, just now! It is now July 6th, 2012! I'm running late of course, but more than a decade ago? I cannot believe it! This saddens me, to a point that it shouldn't. I didn't really know you, so what right do I have to be this sad? I will pray for your family, that they could and do find peace about this. It's so difficult to take in! Can't believe it.
Since you were busy and I was a coward, I never told you how much I wished I had your athletic talent! And your brains! I know you had to keep your grades up in order to stay on the teams. That took guts and brains and energy. I don't know if I had ever had it in me to try that, I just schlubbed my way through school, you know what I mean. Never even tried. Now, don't get me wrong, I KNOW you had to put in the physical work in order to stay in top form. That's a given. But, to get you started, you had talent that I doubt I ever had.
And I always thought you were beautiful. I never saw you with more than a cold, that I know of. The sleet could be coming down, everyone would be miserable, but you never showed it, at least not in front of me. Maybe I had blinders on, but you were never run-down. Always perky, ready for whatever came next, never downcast, always up and running. Sometimes, litterally running. I am so sorry I never got to see you at the meets, especially knowing your record now! I wish I had not been such a coward! Wish I actually knew you, knew what you were really like. That smile of yours was contagious! Still is, immortalized in these pictures we have of you. But they are just not you. They are not enough.
I want to meet you when I die. Along with everyone else that I ever looked up to, I want you to be there, too.
Amy Featherstone (Lasher)
Corissa Yasen
12-5-1973 to 5-12-2001
Sunday, May 20, 2001
IDAHO
'Daughter of Coeur d'Alene' remembered at service
Capt. Bill Dagon of the Spokane Valley Fire Department hangs a black shroud on a fire engine for the funeral procession for Corissa Yasen on Saturday. Yasen's father, Don, is a 20-year veteran of the Valley department.
Benjamin Shors - Staff writer
Coeur d'Alene _ They say Corissa Yasen was the kind of athlete who could silence a crowd, halting entire track meets to watch her jump.
They say she could electrify an arena, at 6 feet tall and able to dunk a basketball.
And when they tire of trying to explain what kind of athlete Corissa Yasen was, when they get frustrated trying to find words to match her motion, they simply shrug their shoulders and say: You should have seen her.
At Yasen's funeral Saturday, mourners swarmed around Don and Linda Yasen, some to say their daughter would never be forgotten, others to say they couldn't believe she was gone. Don, in cowboy boots and a black suit, grasped at hands and shoulders as friends and family pressed in around him. Corissa's mother Linda, a quiet, graceful woman, stood next to her husband and accepted the condolences.
"Corissa was the daughter of Coeur d'Alene," said Mark Normington, a family friend and former coach. "She belonged to all of us."
Her father found Yasen dead at her home on A Street in Coeur d'Alene last weekend, a shocking and mysterious end for one of the greatest athletes in Idaho history.
Long before the 27-year-old Yasen, a national champion in the heptathlon and a former professional basketball player, was struck down by an unknown cause, her athletic prowess was approaching legend.
Newspapers from opposing towns wrote stories about her. Little girls and young women wrote her letters.
Her name became synonymous in the region with athletic greatness. When coaches in North Idaho found a talented young athlete, they'd often say the name Corissa Yasen, half-prophecy of what could be, half-prayer for the upcoming season.
Donna Messenger, Yasen's track coach in high school, remembered the 1992 meet where Yasen qualified for the Olympic trials in the high jump.
"The entire track meet just halted, and everyone stopped to watch her jump," said Messenger, her face red, but smiling as she spoke from the podium at the funeral. "She was beautiful."
A three-sport star in high school, Yasen accepted a track scholarship to Purdue University in 1992. She left Purdue as the school's most decorated track and field athlete, a nine-time All-American with a host of Purdue and Big Ten Conference records. Purdue is also where she met her fiance, Shane Hanson, a wrestler just like her father and her brother, Richard.
When her track eligibility ended, but with one year left on her pharmacy degree, Yasen joined Purdue's basketball team. It had been four years since she last played competitively.
She had eight steals one game. She scored 23 points against national power Tennessee. On fast breaks, the crowd would yell for Yasen to dunk the ball, a feat she often did in practice.
She was drafted by the Sacramento Monarchs of the Women's National Basketball Association, where she played one season. Back home in Idaho, local papers recorded her accomplishments for hometown fans.
But as much as Yasen's life played out in the public eye, her death was shocking and private -- alone in her house, the television on, her dog, Voodoo, in the yard.
She failed to show up for work May 11, the same day she had a court appearance for a 1999 citation for driving under the influence.
Her father found her curled up on the bedroom floor the following day, the back door unlocked. Police reports say Yasen had no medical problems. There was no sign of injury or foul play, and an autopsy showed no obvious cause of death. The results of other tests -- on blood, muscle and tissue -- could take weeks to receive, authorities said.
With the cause of her death still unknown, mourners gathered at St. Pius X Catholic Church on Saturday, a windy and gray morning.
"Corissa was like the sun -- her warmth touched us all," said Normington, who coached Yasen in youth soccer.
Yasen's family sat in the center pew, leaning on one another and surrounded by uniformed members of the Spokane Valley Fire Department, where Don Yasen is a firetruck driver.
"Road trips with Corissa were a blast," recounted Messenger. "She made the simplest things fun."
A consummate practical joker -- like her father, friends say -- Yasen would loosen lids on salt shakers, or come within inches of tipping the boat when sailing with friends.
Frank Clovis, a neighbor and fellow mountain biker, once let his lawn grow a little too long. He returned home to find that Corissa had mowed wild swaths through the grass.
After she was cut from the Monarchs, Yasen focused on biking, and for a time coached high school basketball.
There were rumors that Yasen would take another run at pro ball. But Messenger said she was happy in her job at Medicine Man Pharmacy in Hayden.
Friends said Yasen may have missed the competition, but she did not miss the spotlight, which she tried to deflect.
Normington, who spoke at the funeral, worried that he had carried on longer than Yasen would have wanted, that she would have been embarrassed by his speech.
"As very public as her life was, she was a very private person," said the Rev. Roger LaChance, near the end of the funeral.
The service ended with communion and a final prayer.
Then, row by row, the mourners filed out of the church as music played, leaving only the family, clustered at the front of the church.
The lights from the altar drew a circle around them. They hugged and wept. Then they wrapped arms around shoulders, held hands, and walked out as the final strains of "Ave Maria" came to an end.
James Curfman
Corissa,
This REALLY surprised me! I was not ready for this. I cannot remember if we ever actually spoke, and it would not surprise me if we did not. I was a real nobody, you were the champion of the entire school, and later, even more. You did SO MUCH in your much-too-short-of-a-lifetime with us! I remeber being proud of you, because that meant I could be proud of the school. One day, I could tell people "I went to school with her!" And I will!
I was so surprised by finding this out, just now! It is now July 6th, 2012! I'm running late of course, but more than a decade ago? I cannot believe it! This saddens me, to a point that it shouldn't. I didn't really know you, so what right do I have to be this sad? I will pray for your family, that they could and do find peace about this. It's so difficult to take in! Can't believe it.
Since you were busy and I was a coward, I never told you how much I wished I had your athletic talent! And your brains! I know you had to keep your grades up in order to stay on the teams. That took guts and brains and energy. I don't know if I had ever had it in me to try that, I just schlubbed my way through school, you know what I mean. Never even tried. Now, don't get me wrong, I KNOW you had to put in the physical work in order to stay in top form. That's a given. But, to get you started, you had talent that I doubt I ever had.
And I always thought you were beautiful. I never saw you with more than a cold, that I know of. The sleet could be coming down, everyone would be miserable, but you never showed it, at least not in front of me. Maybe I had blinders on, but you were never run-down. Always perky, ready for whatever came next, never downcast, always up and running. Sometimes, litterally running. I am so sorry I never got to see you at the meets, especially knowing your record now! I wish I had not been such a coward! Wish I actually knew you, knew what you were really like. That smile of yours was contagious! Still is, immortalized in these pictures we have of you. But they are just not you. They are not enough.
I want to meet you when I die. Along with everyone else that I ever looked up to, I want you to be there, too.
Sincerely, James Curfman
One of your (smallest) biggest fans.