The day, month and year roll off Jacob Heldenbrand's tongue without hesitation.

The Winston senior speaks with a frankness only the passage of time from his accident can justify. Jacob remembers placing his fingers along a rod on a running grain auger at his family farm during an autumn Wednesday - Oct. 16, 2002, to be exact.

His jacket became entangled, whipping his body over the apparatus, leaving him dangling on his tip-toes. His father, Kevin Heldenbrand, came running to the horrific scene after leaving his son to make sure the auger ran smoothly.

"I went to do my chores, and I heard one little bitty scream that wasn't normal," Kevin said.

Jacob Heldenbrand lost his right arm that day. The violence of the torque on his limb ruptured an artery in his shoulder causing severe bleeding and severing off his hand.

Doctors later amputated most of his forearm, but left him with his elbow joint.

"It's an accident. I didn't mean to do it, but it is kind of I did it to myself," Jacob said. "I didn't realize. I touched the thing, and then it took my arm off."

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Jacob never classified himself as a jock.

His older sister, Mallery, was the athlete of the family. He dabbled in baseball through second grade and played basketball for a time.

Especially after the accident, Jacob never considered sports a priority.

For a right arm-dominant

person, achieving simple tasks with the left arm proved difficult. Doctors fitted Jacob with a prosthetic right arm with a hook attachment, but it only provides limited use of his right side.

"Trying to learn to write again really, really sucked," Jacob said. "And my handwriting is readable now, but back in the fifth grade when it happened, no, it was pretty bad."

Prior to this fall's fast-pitch softball season, Winston coach Eric Lewis told his players that decreased participation could lead to the forfeiture of the Redbirds' season.

Blaise Simecek, for one, didn't want that to happen.

The fellow senior started gently prodding Jacob about playing to fill out the roster. He could start the game for one pitch and come off the field to allow the team to play.

At first, Jacob wasn't willing, and his best friend understood.

"If I was in his situation, I know I couldn't do it," Simecek said.

But more teammates joined in, trying to involve Jacob Heldenbrand, and he eventually relented to the role of a token ninth player to ensure Winston could field a team. But after a practice, he decided to try fielding.

After that proved successful, he turned to finding a way to hit.

Jacob Heldenbrand started in Winston's season-opener against Tri-County but didn't record a hit and didn't receive a defensive chance. He was, however, fully committed to the team.

"It kind of came out of nowhere. I didn't plan on doing this my senior year," he said. "When I got in the game, I wasn't as nervous as I thought I'd be. I just kind of did it and didn't think about it."

Two days later at Ridgeway, Heldenbrand's unique batting style - holding the bat with his left arm and slap bunting - produced two hits. He now holds a batting average well above .400.

But the highlight came when Heldenbrand made two running catches in right field, one that ended an inning and allowed his teammates and fans in attendance to acknowledge the accomplishments.

"The place just exploded, and he was able to come off the field after making the catch," said Lewis, the current principal and a teacher at Winston when Heldenbrand's accident occurred.

"All the players were there to greet him; the fans cheered. It was awesome."

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An afternoon on the Heldenbrand farm, Oct. 16, 2002.

"He came poppin' down the driveway wanting to help his dad like most 11-year-olds do," Kevin said.

Transferring a load of corn, Kevin instructed Jacob to watch the auger and if anything went off track, to turn the machine off with the key near the truck. Even if a problem arose, Jacob wouldn't have to be near the dangerous parts of the machine.

Whatever the reason, Jacob put his fingers to the spinning rod that day.

Kevin, the Daviess County sheriff at the time, saw many violent and troubling scenes in his line of work. None involved his son.

Kevin ripped off his shoes and threw them into the auger's feeder to stop the machine before he could retrieve his son. Jacob was bleeding, and the possibility of death entered his dad's mind.

"Inside, I was just telling myself don't let him see you're scared," Kevin said. "I stayed calm, and he stayed calm. And that's what saved him."

Jacob first went to Cameron Regional Medical Center, where a medical helicopter was to take him to Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City. Rain cancelled the flight, and Sandy Heldenbrand - Jacob's mother - accompanied her son on a 50-mile ambulance ride.

Sandy rode in front with the ambulance driver, her son's severed limb inside a cooler near her in the cab.

"It was kind of surreal because I would just be talking normally (to the driver) and then I'd just start crying," Sandy said. "You kind of go into your polite behavior mode, and you forget what you're going through.

"And then it'd hit me, and I get hysterical. It was weird."

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Driving separately, Kevin beat the ambulance to the hospital.

Doctors told Jacob's parents from the beginning that reattachment was unlikely. In fact, leaving the remains of his right forearm could lead to further pain.

Jacob understood the severity of his situation but never blamed anyone, including his father.

"He told me when this happened: I made a mistake, and it bit me harder than it does most people," Kevin said.

Jacob spent three weeks in the hospital, near the burn unit at Children's Mercy.

Despite his own circumstance, the condition of others made an impact on Jacob. He even commented to his father on the plights of other patients.

"You don't have to be in Children's Mercy very long to realize that losing a limb isn't really that bad," Kevin said.

Two weeks after returning home, Sandy caught Jacob skateboarding in the garage. A week later, he returned to school full-time.

"Being back around people I knew before, I felt like they looked at me differently," Jacob said. "They probably didn't. I was just a little paranoid because I felt so different myself."

Jacob took almost a year to fully come to terms with his accident.

"The whole family, it brought us closer," Sandy said. "We just worked with him. It was just sort of go on autopilot and do what you had to do."

There were dark periods for Jacob and his family, but time healed the anguish.

Jacob now jokes with curious inquisitors - mostly kids - to avoid petting alligators. When it comes to his social life, particularly dating, he doesn't let his prosthesis hinder him.

"It's a conversation piece," Jacob jokes.

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Jacob enjoyed playing Guitar Hero for Playstation 3.

Using the hook on his prosthesis, he strummed the simulated instrument and played the keys with his left hand. He played better than anyone in his family.

Jacob thought playing a real guitar might be a worthwhile challenge.

Initially after the accident, Jacob might have scoffed at such a venture, but now he won't be held back.

"He's not handicapped; he's just physically challenged," Kevin said. "It's just a little more of a challenge to him than it would be to you or me."

Sandy bought Jacob a red Fender - his favorite color - for Christmas last year, but she showed it to him in October, unable to keep the secret. Not even a year later, Jacob enjoys playing classic rock - especially Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven."

And maybe his successful music endeavors helped inspire him to play softball this year.

"Some people don't even have one hand," Jacob said. "I'm more grateful about stuff I have. Even though I've lost one limb, I'm just glad I have my legs."

After the accident, Jacob threw himself into studies, always trying to stay smarter than those around him.

Limitations initially hindered Jacob physically. But the guitar, softball, his desire to pursue chemical engineering in college show his development. Even his family remains impressed with the 18-year-old, who has accomplished so much despite one major setback.

"He's probably all of our mentors. We look up to him," Sandy said. "It's kind of a reversal, but he's taught us more than we've taught him."

Would Jacob have participated in more sports if not for the accident?

Maybe. But Oct. 16, 2002, irreversibly changed his life.

"Things have changed; I've taken different paths," Jacob said. "I don't know what it would be like if I had two hands, but I can't change it, so I just live with it the way I have to.

"I don't need to regret it. It happened, and I can't change anything. I have to go on, and that's it."

Assistant sports editor Ross Martin can be reached

at rossmartin@npgco.com