Some stories are difficult to write because you struggle to find the right words.
This is one of them.
Buffalo Bills defensive tackle Ed Oliver and his family have been living through an unimaginable tragedy for nearly two months. Oliver’s 2-year-old son died on June 28 after being found unresponsive in a swimming pool at a residence outside Houston. According to reporting from ESPN’s Cameron Wolfe and Alaina Getzenberg, family members found the toddler, and he was transported to a local hospital,
where he was pronounced dead.
For nearly seven weeks, however, most of us knew none of this…and that was intentional.
Some members of the Bills organization knew. Some of Oliver’s teammates knew. Some members of the media knew.
And they kept it private.
Not because there was some grand conspiracy or “media blackout.” Not because anyone was trying to hide something from Bills fans.
They kept it private because a father had lost his child. Because Oliver and his family deserved the opportunity to process an unimaginable loss without thousands of strangers discussing it, dissecting it, speculating about it or demanding answers.
That should have been enough.
Oliver still showed up
Perhaps one of the most heartbreaking details is something Bills fans had already witnessed without understanding what was happening behind the scenes: Oliver reported to training camp on time.
Less than a month after losing his son, he arrived at St. John Fisher University and went back to work. He practiced. He spent time with his teammates. He participated throughout training camp and even played with Buffalo’s starters in the Bills’ preseason opener against the Carolina Panthers.
Meanwhile, his teammates and the organization did exactly what Oliver apparently needed them to do: They gave him space, supported him,t and allowed him to determine how he wanted to move forward.
When Oliver later missed practices and did not travel to Cleveland for Buffalo’s second preseason game, his absence was attributed to an injury.
The tragedy his family was carrying remained private. Until someone decided it shouldn’t.
This wasn’t his story to tell
On Friday, nearly seven weeks after Oliver’s son died, a person on X publicly connected Oliver to a June 28 news report involving the death of a toddler in Harris County, Texas.
I’m intentionally not naming him here. He has received more than enough attention for taking something that wasn’t his to share and putting it into the public domain.
Once the post began circulating, speculation exploded across social media. What Oliver, his family, his teammates and members of the media had managed to keep private for almost seven weeks suddenly became public conversation. That forced everyone else’s hand.
ESPN’s Cameron Wolfe and Alaina Getzenberg subsequently confirmed the heartbreaking circumstances surrounding the death. The Bills organization, which had been aware of the tragedy since it occurred, then publicly acknowledged Oliver’s loss. General manager Brandon Beane released the following statement on behalf of the organization:
“On behalf of the entire Buffalo Bills organization, we want to publicly express our condolences to Ed Oliver and his family on the devastating loss of his son. It’s an unthinkable tragedy for any parent. We will continue to support Ed and his family as we all grieve this tragic loss.”
The organization had known and had been supporting him privately. Some reporters knew and chose not to publish it. They respected the wishes of a grieving family. There is something admirable about that, particularly in an era when being first too often seems more important than asking whether a story actually needs to be told.
Josh Allen’s reaction said everything
Following Buffalo’s second preseason victory on Saturday, Josh Allen was asked about his teammate.
His response wasn’t just sadness.
There was anger, too.
“First off, I want to say thank you to the ones that knew about it and allowed him to have his moment and his time. It’s very sad in how it came out. It makes me very sad and angry at the same time. Obviously, very unfortunate what happened and as a teammate of him, as someone in this locker room, all we can do is love on him. There’s nothing that you can say to make the situation any better except being there in whatever ways he needs.
That’s what we’re going to continue to do. That’s what teammates do. You love up on each other when we’re down, and I can’t imagine what he’s going through. But the way that he’s dealt with it has been unbelievable. Very, very unfortunate how it got out.
As his teammates, that’s what we’ve been doing is giving him his space and time, but at the same time being around him, loving up on him, but not trying to do anything to reopen that. I understand lot of the guys in the locker room knew, especially on the D-line. He spends a lot of time with those guys, and everyone’s just rallying around him.”
Allen acknowledged that not everyone inside the locker room knew what Oliver was going through. But for those who did, there appeared to be an understanding that this was Oliver’s story to tell, if and when he chose to tell it.
Allen made that point very clear:
“It’s the utmost, the most important thing, and I’m very … It’s just very unfortunate how it came about. I appreciate those that knew and didn’t want to bring it up… It’s no one’s place to really let that out there except him and his families when the time came for it, but we roll now and be there for him as teammates.”
That last part matters: It was no one’s place.
Professional athletes surrender an extraordinary amount of privacy when they choose this career. We discuss their contracts, their injuries, their performances, their mistakes, and sometimes their personal lives.
But there should still be a line. The unexpected death of a child is well beyond it.
Oliver didn’t owe us an announcement. He didn’t owe the media an explanation. He didn’t owe Bills Mafia a statement. He certainly didn’t owe strangers on social media access to the most painful experience imaginable simply because he plays football for a living.
Bills Mafia responds the way Bills Mafia does
Unfortunately, Oliver no longer gets to decide whether his loss is public. What Bills fans can decide is what they do with that knowledge…and Bills Mafia has already begun responding in a familiar way.
Fans have started making donations in honor of Oliver and his family, many in increments of $9.10 or $91, a nod to Oliver’s No. 91 jersey.
Two organizations have emerged as destinations for those donations: Coats for Kids in Western New York, which provides winter clothing to children in need throughout the Buffalo community, and Habitat for Horses, a Houston, Texas based horse protection organization.
For fans who would like to participate:
- Coats for Kids WNY
- Habitat for Horses
There have been countless moments over the years when Bills Mafia has turned tragedy into generosity. Donations don’t erase grief. They don’t fix what happened. They don’t make this loss any less devastating. But they can allow a community to say something without demanding anything in return. We’re here. We’re thinking about you. And you’re not walking through this alone.
Some things are bigger than football
Soon enough, we’ll go back to talking about football. We’ll analyze Oliver’s snaps, the positives, and negatives of his play. We’ll talk about his health, the Bills’ defensive front, wins and losses, and everything else that consumes an NFL season.
Today doesn’t need to be about any of that. Today is about Ed Oliver the father, not Ed Oliver the football player.
It’s about a locker room that quietly rallied around one of its own. An organization that respected his privacy. Reporters who knew something devastating and understood that knowing a story doesn’t automatically give you the right to tell it.
And it’s about recognizing that Oliver and his family should have been allowed to decide when, how or whether the rest of us ever learned what happened on June 28.
That choice was taken away from them. Give Ed Oliver and his family what they asked for from the beginning: Privacy. Prayers. And the space to grieve.
