Editorial: When the North Fork shows up

The North Fork raced to wrap the Drago family in a collective embrace after the unthinkable loss of their son.

That’s what a tight-knit community does.

Gavyn Drago, a Mattituck High School senior, died Sept. 4, just days into a school year that should have been filled with yearbook pictures, college applications, cross-country meets and all the anticipation that comes with being 17 and staring at the rest of your life.

Instead, his classmates returned to school without him.

Mattituck-Cutchogue Superintendent Shawn Petretti responded quickly and, just as important, gently. The high school library was turned into a support space for students and staff who needed somewhere to go. Counselors and administrators were there for students who needed them.

Principal Patrick Burke told families the school would continue to support one another throughout the week. But some of the most powerful gestures came from the kids themselves.

Gavyn’s cross-country teammates and close friends ran from Mattituck High School to his family’s home and presented his parents, Marissa and Bryan, with a signed jersey and photograph.

There is something almost unbearably moving about that image.

Running was a big part of Gavyn’s life. He competed for the Tuckers, ran half-marathons and used that passion to raise money for epilepsy organizations. His coach, Jordan McGinn, described a young man with an infectious personality who changed the energy around him.

The mourning spread far beyond the track team. The school’s athletic booster club remembered Gavyn as a friend, classmate and teammate. The music department shared a performance of “Oseh Shalom,” a Jewish prayer for peace. Other North Fork schools sent their condolences. Local businesses posted remembrances.

And then there was Main Road Biscuit Co.

For years, Marissa and Bryan Drago’s Jamesport restaurant has been the kind of place communities are built around. You stop for breakfast. You meet somebody you know. You linger over coffee. Employees become familiar faces and customers become regulars.

The restaurant closed after Gavyn’s death so the family and its staff could grieve.

A message soon began circulating on social media around the North Fork: Give them their space now. But when they reopen, show up.

Buy breakfast. Grab coffee. Pick up lunch. Buy a gift card. Bring a friend. Put a line out the door.

The idea was beautifully simple. This family and this business have spent years taking care of people. Now people want to take care of them.

That is what community means.

It doesn’t make a tragedy less tragic. It cannot fill the empty chair in a classroom, replace a teammate on the starting line or ease the loss confronting Marissa and Bryan Drago.

But it can make sure a grieving family does not stand alone.