The Details: Bierria Raised In A Family Of Fighters
October 21, 2016 | Football, General
By Mason Kelley
GoHuskies.com
Simonne Bierria started to laugh. She was talking about her son, Washington standout Keishawn Bierria. She was looking back on the beginning, the very beginning – the moment the linebacker was born.
The third of Simonne's four boys, Bierria's birth was the shortest, but it was also the "worst labor I ever had," she said.
Thinking about that moment and looking at the person and player her son has become, that sparked the laughter.
"He came out built," she said. "He came out with that six pack."
He was a fighter from Day 1. He had to be. To get to this point, he had to take more punches than most.
As a child, his father, Lowell, beat cancer once, a fight he couldn't win the second time. And now, during his career at Washington, he has been forced to watch as Simonne spent years battling and then beating leukemia.
It wasn't easy. But Lowell was a fighter. Simonne is a fighter. Bierria only knows one way to live his life.
"Today's never promised," he said. "Tomorrow isn't promised. Experiencing adversity in my life has shown me that what I'm going through right now could be a lot worse and it's definitely going to get better than what it is right now."
Six games into his junior season, Bierria is second on the team in tackles. He leads the nation in fumble recoveries. He is a leader, a three-star recruit coming out of Narbonne High School in Harbor City, Calif., who has become a vital contributor for the fifth-ranked Huskies. He is here because, through all of the hard times, he kept pushing forward.
"No matter what you do, don't give up," Simonne said, talking about the mindset she helped instill in her children. "You do it the best you can do it, to the best of your ability. That's all you can do. Then you let God take you the rest of the way."
Bierria is here, because he refuses to stop fighting for his future.
"You've got to fight," Washington coach Chris Petersen said. "You've got to keep doing what you can do. You've got to battle. That's what Keishawn does. That's what he's done.
"He's one of those unique special guys who can stay strong and focused. It's a story we can all learn from."
As far as Simonne is concerned, Bierria has been this way since the day he was born. That brutal birth, the day the fighter was born, well, it was July 26, 1995 – his father's birthday.
And, now that her son is a man, Simonne sees her husband in Bierria. In fact, she sees Lowell in each of her four children.
"My husband is not gone, because I see him in all four of those boys," she said.
When the boys – Marques, Dominique, Keishawn and Trevon – were younger, participating in sports was often "everything we did as a family," Simonne said.
They traveled the West Coast with basketball and baseball teams. Life was good. Lowell would make the journey to Alaska to work on fishing boats and Simonne had a beauty and barbershop.
Her youngest children – Trevon is now a safety at San Jose State – played on the same basketball team as their cousin, Junior. And, when the three boys were on the court together, it was like they were their own team within a team. They drew the ire of some of the other parents who had children in the program.
Lowell asked the boys to include the other players on the team.
"You guys need to pass the ball to the other kids," he said.
Bierria looked at his father and said, "They don't want to win, dad." It was another early glimpse of the fighter he is today.
But, for all those moments that still make Simonne smile, there were just as many tough times. Lowell developed an abscess in his mouth. It was diagnosed as osteosarcoma, a type of bone cancer. He went through chemotherapy. He beat it back.
"He was good," Simonne said. The cancer went into remission for five years.
As Lowell fought the cancer, the family worked through a series of financial hardships. Simonne had to go to court to fight a fallout with her business partner – "I won," she said – the family had to move and the kids were pulled from private school.
But, "we just stayed prayed up," Simonne said.
Once the cancer went into remission, Lowell started working in construction.
"Back to work," he told his wife at the time.
Things got better. Simonne started working at a college. They bought a new house. They kids were back in private school and, "life was pretty sweet," Simonne said.
The family seemed to be back on track when Lowell's cancer returned. This time it was in his spine. At one point he spent three months in the ICU. He had three major surgeries in a week and, eventually, he was paralyzed.
"It just ate him up," Simonne said.
He died in 2003. It was Christmas day. Simonne brought her husband home a few days earlier to spend time with his children. People close to the family made the holiday a memorable one. There were gifts stacked up all over the living room.
"The kids had an awesome Christmas," she said.
It was a time for Lowell to say goodbye to his family. They spent the day together. He died that evening.
"My husband took his last breath at 6:43 p.m.," Simonne said.
Lowell spent the final hours of his life watching his children play in the backyard. Then it started to drizzle. Trevon, Bierria's youngest brother, ran inside. He grabbed his father.
"Daddy, I love you," he said.
A few minutes later, Lowell was gone. Bierria was 8.
"It didn't seem real at first," he said. "I didn't understand what that really meant. I cried a little bit and then asked if I could go outside and play."
It wasn't until weeks later that reality set it. That realization hit the family hard.
"The day she lost her husband, my father, she thought she would never find anyone else, nobody else would hold her down like he did, because he was her rock," Bierria said.
As the months passed, Simonne couldn't fight off the depression.
"It just really hit me he wasn't coming back," she said.
A religious woman, Lowell's death shook the foundation of her devotion.
"I couldn't see it," she said. "I was mad at him (God) for taking my husband, taking my kids' father, taking a good man, a provider."
Simonne didn't know how to communicate the grief to her children. Before Lowell's death, when she would drive her children to school, they would recite the Lord's Prayer together. The kids knew when to begin – "Our father, who art in Heaven" – so they would say the last line as they pulled up to school.
But, in the years that followed, "my mom wasn't really able to be there mentally and physically."
As Simonne processed her grief, family and friends helped keep Bierria and his brothers pointed toward a positive future. They moved in with their grandparents, James and Michelle Whitmore.
Marques and Dominique set an example for Bierria and Trevon.
"My older brothers took care of me," Bierria said. "I took care of my younger brother. That explains our relationship now. We're really close. We'd do anything for each other."
Family friends filled any gaps, like Bierria's godmother, Mattie Jones-Gill.
"That woman stuck with my kids from beginning to end," Simonne said. "There's nothing she wouldn't do for him."
There was a time a family friend brought the boys home. When Simonne opened the door, the woman was crying.
They children were on their way to McDonald's when they passed a flower store. There were people out front with a sign asking for money to help pay for their father's funeral.
Simonne's boys asked to stop and give the people money.
"I have never met kids as gracious as yours, who are willing to help anybody," the woman said.
When Bierria was younger his mother always said, "Be a blessing to somebody." The linebacker and his brothers listened.
"It's a beautiful thing when you know that, through the hard times, they're still smiling," Simonne said.
While Simonne worked to get her life back on track, her boys did what they could to help.
"We tried to just be there for her, just be an inspiration to her," Bierria said.
Over the years there were tough times, what Simonne described as "trials and tribulations." There were AA meetings and NA meetings as she worked to find her faith.
"It hasn't been a glory ride for me," she said.
But, through it all, regardless of what she's dealt with, Bierria and his brothers always had what they needed.
"It was really a community effort," he said. "She made sure we had everything we needed, but mentally she wasn't there. She made sure we were never hurting for anything, but she really couldn't be there for us, because she was going through it."
Over time, things started to get back on track. Bierria earned a scholarship to Washington. Simonne had regained her faith.
Then before Bierria moved to Seattle, Simonne was diagnosed with leukemia. She waited to tell her younger sons. She didn't want them to worry.
"I was sneaking behind their backs to get chemo, because I didn't want them to think, 'Oh, my God, if I leave, something is going to happen to my mom,'" she said. "I waited until they got good and settled."
Bierria still remembers the day he learned the news. It was a shock, another obstacle to hurdle.
"She's a warrior," Bierria said. "She's been fighting it the whole time. She really doesn't want to leave us, so she's done everything she can."
In the hospital, after receiving her diagnoses, Simonne was at peace.
"It is what it is," she said to herself. "I'm good."
In that moment, she had a conversation with a higher power. She began to make sense of her journey.
"When I look back at my life, Lord, when I didn't think You cared, I understand that these journeys we have in life, these episodes we go through make us the person we are today and that is all because of You," she said. "There's no way I could have done it without You."
Simonne went through two-week cycles of chemotherapy and then had two weeks to rest. She needed a bone marrow transplant, but couldn't find a match.
"Last year, I opted for a trial with the umbilical cord from a newborn baby," she said.
And today, well, "I'm leukemia free." There have been a few setbacks along the way, and a trip to the hospital where she was on life support for three days.
But, after "fighting for her life," Simonne is now able to watch her sons play football. Her first chance to watch Bierria play for the Huskies was during last season's win at USC, just a few days after being released from the hospital following the transplant.
"She's a trooper," Bierria said.
She's a fighter, just like Lowell, just like her children. Their journey hasn't been easy, but they're still smiling.
"Nobody wants to go through any adversity, certainly not that type," Petersen said. "For a guy to be resilient, optimistic and positive, to not let something like that derail him from doing really good things in his life, it's so cool, so inspiring.
"It doesn't matter who you are, those things are life changing. It's hard on anyone. He's just always been so strong in those aspects."
After all of the struggles, things are back on track for Bierria's family. The linebacker is having a strong season for one of the nation's top teams, his mother is healthy and his brothers are doing well.
There is success after the struggle.
"I'm very proud of them," Simonne said, talking about her children. "When I see them smile, when I see them doing certain stuff, I'm very thankful. It's an awesome feeling."
She is proud of them. They are proud of her. She provides inspiration for Bierria. He returns the favor.
"She's everything to us," Bierria said. "She's the reason I work so hard. I try to just keep pushing, just keep focusing on moving forward and trying to get better in whatever I'm trying to do."
To get to this point, Bierria has taken more punches than most. But a fighter from Day 1, he survived. Just look at him now.
