In Clovis, California, a family once shaped by athletic achievement now faces the oldest and most leveling of human sorrows — the loss of a child. On July 26, two-year-old Haze Brown drowned in his family's backyard pool, leaving his parents Curtis and Kim and their remaining children to navigate an absence no community fundraiser or public condolence can truly fill. The tragedy arrives as a reminder that life's most shattering moments observe no hierarchy of accomplishment, and that the instinct to gather around the grieving — as thousands of strangers have done — is among the most enduring e
Former BYU Star Curtis Brown's 2-Year-Old Son Dies in Pool Drowning
Curtis Brown's 2-year-old son Haze drowned in a residential pool, leaving the family of five grieving the loss of their young child.
A miracle baby lost in seconds, a family learning to grieve
Mark
What was Haze to them—just a name, or something more specific in the family?
Mimi
He was their "miracle baby," according to the friend who set up the fundraiser. That language suggests he may have been unexpected or hard-won. He was two years old, part of a family of five that included triplets. He was the kind of child whose loss doesn't make sense because no child's loss makes sense.
Mark
The GoFundMe raised $77,000 pretty quickly. What does that tell us about who Curtis Brown is in his community?
Mimi
It tells us he's remembered. He played college football at a high level, but that's not why people gave money. They gave because a child died, and the community recognized the family needed help. The speed and the amount suggest genuine connection—not celebrity worship, but actual relationships.
Mark
The police spokesman's statement about supervision and CPR—was that standard procedure, or was there something specific about how this happened?
Mimi
It reads like standard procedure. After a drowning, authorities always emphasize the preventable nature of it. But that doesn't make it less true or less painful. It's the thing everyone knows and no one can quite believe until it's too late.
Mark
Brown tried to go pro and didn't make it. Does that matter to this story?
Mimi
It matters only in that it shows he had a life beyond football, a family, a home in California. The football career was real and significant, but it was also over. What remained was being a father. That's what was taken.
The Pulse
- A two-year-old boy was found unresponsive in a backyard pool on July 26 — CPR was attempted by first responders, but Haze Brown could not be saved.
- The accident fractured a family of seven in seconds, turning a summer afternoon into a permanent before-and-after in the lives of Curtis Brown, his wife Kim, and their four surviving children.
- A GoFundMe launched by a family friend described Haze as a 'miracle baby' and quickly drew $77,375 from strangers and loved ones alike, a community reaching instinctively toward a grief it cannot undo.
- Clovis police issued a sobering public reminder: children must never swim unsupervised, and adults should know CPR and keep rescue equipment within reach — words that land with particular weight in the aftermath of preventable tragedy.
- Curtis Brown's celebrated football legacy — nearly 3,300 rushing yards and 36 touchdowns at BYU — has receded entirely, eclipsed by the only story that now defines him: a father mourning his son.
In Clovis, California, a family once shaped by athletic achievement now faces the oldest and most leveling of human sorrows — the loss of a child. On July 26, two-year-old Haze Brown drowned in his family's backyard pool, leaving his parents Curtis and Kim and their remaining children to navigate an absence no community fundraiser or public condolence can truly fill. The tragedy arrives as a reminder that life's most shattering moments observe no hierarchy of accomplishment, and that the instinct to gather around the grieving — as thousands of strangers have done — is among the most enduring expressions of our shared humanity.
Curtis Brown spent five seasons as a force at Brigham Young University, accumulating nearly 3,300 rushing yards and 36 touchdowns before a brief NFL tryout with the Cincinnati Bengals in 2007. By any measure, he had written a significant chapter in college football history. None of it prepared him for July 26 in Clovis, California.
That afternoon, a family member found two-year-old Haze Brown unresponsive in the family's backyard pool. Emergency responders arrived quickly and attempted CPR, but were unable to revive him. Haze was transported to a nearby hospital, where he was pronounced dead. Curtis, his wife Kim, and their four other children — sons Trey and triplets Cruze, Julie, and Kash — were left to absorb a loss that arrives without warning and without mercy.
Within days, family friend Chandler Pearson launched a GoFundMe, describing Haze as a 'miracle baby' and asking the public to help ease the financial weight of funeral costs so the family could focus on one another. The response was immediate — $77,375 raised toward a $100,000 goal, sent by strangers and friends who understood that sometimes the only offering available is to help carry the burden.
Clovis Police spokesman Ty Wood offered a measured public statement in the wake of the tragedy, urging parents never to leave children unsupervised near water and to ensure that adults in the home know CPR and have rescue equipment accessible. The words were careful and necessary — the kind that feel almost unbearable precisely because they are true. For the Brown family, the football records and rushing yards belong to another life entirely.
Curtis Brown's life had been defined by football—five seasons running for Brigham Young University, nearly 3,300 rushing yards, a school record that stood until 2009. He tried the NFL path with the Cincinnati Bengals in 2007, though it didn't take. But on July 26 in Clovis, California, none of that mattered anymore. His two-year-old son Haze drowned in the family's backyard pool.
A family member found the boy unresponsive in the water and called 911 immediately. Police, EMTs, and firefighters arrived quickly. They attempted CPR, but it was unsuccessful. Haze was transported to a nearby hospital, where he was pronounced dead. The Browns—Curtis, his wife Kim, and their five children, including sons Trey and triplets Cruze, Julie, and Kash—were suddenly a family fractured by an accident that takes seconds and leaves a lifetime of questions.
Within days, a GoFundMe campaign appeared. Chandler Pearson, a family friend, created the page and wrote about the "unimaginable loss." He described Haze as a "miracle baby" and asked the community to help shoulder the weight of funeral expenses and unexpected costs so the family could focus on grieving together. The response was swift. Within a short time, the campaign had raised $77,375 toward a $100,000 goal. Strangers and friends alike sent money and messages of support, a collective acknowledgment that sometimes all you can do is help carry the burden.
Clovis Police Department spokesman Ty Wood offered the kind of statement that comes after tragedy—measured, necessary, and almost unbearable in its clarity. "Adults should never let children swim unsupervised," he said, "and should always learn CPR and keep rescue equipment nearby." These are the things we know. These are the things we forget until we can't anymore.
Brown's football career, once the defining arc of his public life, receded into the background. In 2004 and 2005, he had been a force for BYU—leading the Mountain West Conference with 14 rushing touchdowns one season, accumulating 1,123 yards on the ground and 454 through the air. By his final year in 2006, he had 1,010 rushing yards and 566 receiving yards across 13 games. Over his five seasons, he compiled 3,241 rushing yards and 1,309 receiving yards with 36 total touchdowns. He was, by any measure, a significant player in school history. But that was then. Now he was a father burying his son, and the only record that mattered was the one written in grief.
Notable Quotes
Adults should never let children swim unsupervised and should always learn CPR and keep rescue equipment nearby.— Ty Wood, Clovis Police Department spokesman
Kim and Curtis recently lost their miracle baby, Haze, in a tragic drowning accident.— Chandler Pearson, family friend, on the GoFundMe page
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