By Marisa Dawson, Courtesy Photos

For Jennifer Oliver and Kregg Rahn, there are countless things they want people to remember about their son, Logan Oliver Rahn.

They want people to remember the energetic 11-year-old who was always busy, always looking for his next project and rarely content to sit still. They want people to remember the boy who loved hockey, fishing, animals, camping, cars, video games and spending time outdoors. They want people to remember the friend who could make a new kid feel welcome and the son who always made sure to say “I love you” before he left.

Most of all, they want Logan to be remembered for the lives he helped touch, including lives that continued because of the decision to become an organ donor.

“He was spunky,” Jennifer said. “Energetic.”

“Busy,” Kregg added. “Always busy, busy, busy.”

That energy followed Logan into nearly everything he did. He loved hockey from an early age, often carrying a hockey stick before he could even walk. His older brother played, and Logan quickly developed a love for the sport of his own.

“He wasn’t great at it, but he loved it,” Jennifer said.

Hockey remained a constant throughout his childhood, even as Logan explored plenty of other sports. He played baseball, soccer, basketball and flag football, but hockey was always the sport he came back to.

“He loved hockey,” Jennifer emphasized again.

Outside of organized sports, Logan was happiest when he was simply outside. He loved riding his bike, playing with neighborhood kids, swimming, camping and spending time at the lake. Fishing became an especially important part of his summer. Logan had connected with several boys in Bennington who shared his interest in fishing, and soon he was spending much of his free time at Heritage Lake near the fire station. He and a friend would ride their bikes to the lake, carrying their fishing poles and tackle in backpacks.

“They got some big ones out of that pond,” Jennifer said.

Earlier in the summer, Logan caught a 10-pound catfish. A week prior to that, he had caught a large bass.

“His PB,” Kregg said. “PB, my personal best,” he said Logan would say.

Those little phrases and the way Logan communicated were part of what made him uniquely Logan. He went through phases and became intensely interested in whatever captured his attention at the moment. Sometimes it was remote-control cars. Sometimes it was football or baseball. Sometimes it was fishing, riding scooters or simply spending every evening with his friends.

“He’d go through phases,” Jennifer said. “He’d really be into his remote control cars, and then there’d be months that he wouldn’t touch them.”

He liked remote-control vehicles that could move quickly and others designed to crawl over rocks. He built tracks and obstacles for them, sometimes sending them through flower beds and rocks.

“He likes some to go fast, and he likes some that would just crawl,” Kregg said.

Cars were another lifelong interest. Logan could identify makes, models and years with an impressive level of detail.

“That’s a Ford Mustang. That’s a Chevy Camaro. That’s a 1967 something,” Jennifer recalled him saying. “I mean, I’m like, it’s a car. It has wheels,” she said with a laugh.

He also loved football and hockey statistics, memorizing players from teams across the NFL and NHL. The Kansas City Chiefs were his favorite football team, while the Chicago Blackhawks held a special place in his hockey-loving heart.

He was a big fan of Patrick Mahomes and Connor Bedard and could rattle off player names that often left his parents wondering how he remembered so much information. Logan also collected sports cards, particularly football and hockey cards, keeping binders of them and trading with friends.

And then there were the video games. Even there, Logan found ways to make friends. His parents remember him talking with people from other states while playing online, forming friendships with people he had never met in person.

Friendship, however, was something Logan seemed to find wherever he went. His parents described him as someone who wanted others to feel included. When a new student joined his school or a new child entered his circle, Logan often made an effort to befriend them.

“He wanted everybody to fit in,” Jennifer said.

Kregg remembered that Logan could be shy when entering a new environment, but it rarely took long before he found someone to connect with.

“He was always a little shy about going into something new because he didn’t know anyone, but it wasn’t long and he made a friend,” Kregg said.

He never seemed particularly concerned with having one designated best friend, either.

“He had a lot of friends,” Jennifer said. “And I don’t know if you could say he had one best friend because when you ask him, it would change from day to day. So and so is my best friend… No, so and so’s my best friend today.”

That ability to connect with people is something his family hopes remains part of his legacy. They also want people to remember the ordinary moments, the ones that made him their son.

He was the boy who loved being outdoors so much that a snowstorm or icy driveway wasn’t enough to keep him inside. He would play hockey on the ice or ride his four-wheeler in circles.

“He’s an outdoor kid,” Jennifer said. “He played video games in the winter or when it was raining or too hot or no friends were available. But a majority of the time he was outside doing something- he wasn’t inside.”

He loved camping and gradually made friends at the family’s campsite, too. He loved animals and playing with the family dog. And he was beginning to test his independence, spending more time riding bikes and scooters and going fishing with friends.

“He was just getting in that phase where it was like, I just want to be with friends and go fishing and ride scooters and bikes,” Jennifer said.

Logan was also beginning to imagine what his future might look like.

One summer, he unexpectedly decided he wanted to accompany Kregg to work at a car dealership in Fremont. Kregg had gone back to work part time while recovering from surgery, and Logan had mentioned that he might want to come along. One morning, he initially decided against it — then changed his mind.

“He’s throwing out of bed, throwing on some clothes, and away we went,” Kregg recalled.

Logan spent the day looking at cars on the computer, drawing pictures and exploring the service department. He was particularly excited about the dealership’s golf cart.

“He wanted to go through all the motions of working at the dealership, see what it was like,” Kregg said.

It was another glimpse of a future Logan was just beginning to imagine.

His parents now carry those memories alongside the grief of losing their son. But they also carry something else: the knowledge that Logan’s life continued to help others.

After his death, Logan became an organ donor through Live On Nebraska.

According to a letter from Live On Nebraska dated Aug. 3, Logan’s right kidney was transplanted into a 2-year-old boy, while his left kidney and pancreas went to a 57-year-old man. His liver was transplanted into a 3-year-old boy, his heart went to a 4-year-old girl, and his double lung transplant went to a 69-year-old woman.

“Logan has truly made a difference,” Live On Nebraska wrote to the family, recognizing his donation as a gift that could help others.

The family also learned that Logan donated eye and tissue, with additional information about those gifts to be provided through Lions Eye Bank.

For Jennifer and Kregg, learning where Logan’s organs went brought an unexpected sense of comfort in the midst of their grief. The knowledge that parts of their son were continuing to help others gave them something positive to hold onto.

“It made us feel better to know that his organs were going somewhere else,” Kregg said. “Not closure but a … made us feel better.”

“The part of him was still going on saving,” Jennifer added.

“You know, saving two, three and four year olds.”

The family was given time at Children’s Hospital to say goodbye and create memories before the donation process was completed. They made footprints, handprints and fingerprints and had a three-dimensional cast made of Logan’s hand. Hospital staff even brought in another bed so his parents could lie beside him.

They were also able to participate in a hero walk, a ceremonial procession honoring an organ donor as they are taken from the hospital. More than 100 people, including family, friends and hospital staff, lined the halls.

The family selected “When I Get Where I’m Going” by Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton to accompany the walk.

For Logan’s parents, it was an emotional reminder of how many people were touched by their son.

“It was pretty amazing,” Jennifer said.

His legacy is now beginning to take shape in other ways, too. Omaha Hockey plans to honor Logan through its hardship fund, which helps children whose families need financial assistance to participate in hockey. A future end-of-season tournament is also expected to include a memorial to Logan, with his family helping present medals. A hockey coach who led a weekly camp that Logan attended is making a bench from old hockey sticks in Logan’s memory.

For his family, those tributes are especially meaningful because they connect Logan’s memory with something he loved. They hope to eventually organize a fishing-related memorial or fundraiser as well, perhaps giving children an opportunity to learn to fish.

But perhaps the most important legacy Logan leaves is much simpler. His parents want people to remember him as the boy who loved to fish, the little hockey player with long hair, the kid who was always busy with his next project, the friend who made room for others and the son who made sure his mom knew he loved her.

“I guess the biggest thing is I just hope people remember him as being a good-natured, fun-loving boy,” Kregg said.

“A sweet little boy,” Jennifer added.

They also hope people remember that Logan was loved.

The community showed that love in countless ways after his death. Friends, neighbors, classmates, teachers, school administrators and people the family had never met brought meals, offered financial support, attended the visitation and surrounded the family during an unimaginable time.

Jennifer said she was particularly struck by how many people from Logan’s school came to the visitation.

“I think every teacher he ever had through elementary school was at the visitation and then some,” she said.

The family said they remain grateful for the support from Bennington and the people who continue to check in on them.

“Bennington’s a great community, and they show up when they need to,” Jennifer said.

That support has helped them begin to navigate life without Logan. And amid the grief, there have been moments they have interpreted as little reminders that Logan is still with them in some way. Butterflies have become one of those signs.

Jennifer and Kregg described several moments when they were thinking about Logan and a butterfly appeared nearby, sometimes lingering or interacting with them.

During the interview for this story, they were talking about those moments when a butterfly unexpectedly flew past the window beside us. For a moment, the conversation stopped. It was a small thing, a butterfly passing by a window, but in a room filled with memories of Logan, it carried meaning.

His parents say they have noticed other signs, too, including a rainbow that appeared the night of Logan’s visitation.

“There’s signs and … yep, there is,” Jennifer said.

Those moments don’t erase the grief, but they offer comfort to a family learning how to carry Logan’s memory forward. And that is what they want his story to be about. Not the accident, not the circumstances surrounding his death, just Logan. The boy who was always busy, the hockey player, the fisherman, the outdoorsman, the friend, the son, the little boy who loved cars, sports, camping, animals and adventure. And the 11-year-old whose final act of generosity gave others more time.

“We just want people when they hear the name Logan Rahn to think, ‘Oh, that cute little hockey player that loved to fish from Bennington,’” Jennifer said.

“It doesn’t matter how he died. That’s not the important part,” she said. “It’s that he donated his organs.”

“And he was well loved,” Kregg added.