Doug Emblidge on Grief, Resilience & Finding Hope After the Loss of His Son

Doug Emblidge spent more than three decades telling Rochester's stories on television. He covered elections, tragedies, celebrations, and everything in between. He is good at this. He knows how to find the right words. So when he sat down with Corey and Mark for Episode 249, it was striking to hear him say that the hardest story he ever had to tell was about his own son.

Jeffrey Emblidge was born in 1990. He was the third of Doug and Colleen's three children. He graduated cum laude from college, though he had no idea what that meant when his diploma arrived in the mail. He worked at Paychex. He had an army of friends, a big smile, a great sense of humor, and a childlike warmth that made him especially good with kids. He also struggled with depression and anxiety from a young age, and substances entered the picture the way they often do with people fighting those battles quietly.

Jeffrey died of a fentanyl overdose on Father's Day 2024. He was 33 years old. Doug had just visited him in Asheville, North Carolina, where Jeffrey had moved to be part of a strong recovery community. They played golf. On the last full day of Doug's visit, Jeffrey said he wanted to skip golf and go see a movie instead. The movie he chose was Inside Out 2, the one about emotions and what lives inside our heads. Doug thinks about that choice now.

Who Jeffrey Was

One of the things Doug is most intentional about in this conversation is making sure Jeffrey is remembered as a full person, not just as someone who struggled. The ending, as he puts it, gets too much attention. So he tells the stories.

There is the one about the family code word BMW. On a long road trip, Jeffrey looked out the window and said something Doug couldn't quite hear. Doug said "I love you too, buddy." Jeffrey laughed and said no, he had just spotted a BMW on the highway. The mix-up stuck. From then on, BMW meant "I love you" in the Emblidge family.

There is the one about Legacy Outdoor Adventures in Utah, where Jeffrey did a 90-day wilderness recovery program. He flew across the country in detox, arrived in rough shape, and within weeks was writing words of encouragement on a chalkboard for the patients who would come after him. He called them "The Laws of Legacy." Doug turned them into a small book. A copy sits on the coffee table at the Divided Sky Foundation in Vermont. A parent recently wrote to Doug to say the whole group had passed it around at a parents meeting there.

Jeffrey asked for help the last time around. That mattered to Doug. In the past, it had always been Doug and Colleen pushing. This time Jeffrey came to them. They wanted to send him to Divided Sky, a Vermont recovery center founded by Trey Anastasio of the band Phish. Jeffrey loved Phish. Trey's own story of getting arrested in 2007, going through drug court, and getting sober had meant a great deal to Jeffrey. Divided Sky wasn't open yet, so Jeffrey went to Utah first, then to Asheville. He was doing well. He had plane tickets home. He had tickets to see Phish.

The Letter and the Soundcheck

After Jeffrey died, Doug called Melanie Gould, who runs Divided Sky and was Trey's caseworker during drug court. He left a voicemail. She called back in minutes, crying. They started directing memorial donations to the foundation in Jeffrey's name.

A few weeks later, Doug was home alone when a letter arrived in the mail. Handwritten. From Trey Anastasio. He named every member of the Emblidge family. He wrote that Jeffrey, though he never knew him, was part of the Phish family, and that meant he was part of his family too. Doug has it framed.

Melanie later invited Doug and Colleen to a Phish show at Bethel Woods, the original Woodstock site. She said she would meet them for lunch and give them their tickets. She also asked if they would like to attend soundcheck. They said yes without knowing what that meant. They walked into an empty amphitheater. The band was on stage. Trey walked off, came over to them, and said: "You must be Jeffrey's family." He spent time with them before the show, asking about Jeffrey, wanting to know who he was. Doug says he was completely present.

Grief, and How It Changes

Doug is honest about what the first months were like. Waking up every day and realizing it wasn't a dream. Going through the motions because the dishes still needed washing and the grandchildren were still coming over. Colleen is attached to dates. Father's Day. Jeffrey's birthday, November 23rd. On those days she wants to curl up, and Doug has learned to let her.

Doug's way is different. Most mornings on his drive to work, he puts on a song he knows will make him cry. Something that reminds him of Jeffrey. He gets about ten minutes in, has the release, and then he goes to work. He's not bothering anyone. It helps.

He is also clear about something a counselor told them early on. Their happiness potential, she said, used to be up here. For the rest of their lives, it will be down here. They will never get back to where they were. But that doesn't mean they can't find happiness. It just lives at a different level now. Doug and Colleen have been married 41 years. Going through something this awful either brings you closer or pulls you apart. For them, it brought them closer.

Be Curious, Not Judgmental

One of the most direct moments in the conversation comes when Doug talks about how he used to respond to Jeffrey's struggles. He was judgmental. He saw the potential in his son and got frustrated when Jeffrey couldn't see it in himself. He admits this plainly.

Over time, he grew past it. He started to understand that Jeffrey's disease was not a character flaw and not a choice. He quotes Ted Lasso, who was allegedly quoting Walt Whitman: be curious, not judgmental. Doug thinks that is the right frame for how people should approach addiction and mental health. Don't judge. Get curious. Ask what someone is going through. Try to understand it before you decide what it means.

He applies that same standard to himself. He is not an expert in grief. He is not a psychologist. He is a communicator who has been through something, and he thinks that is enough of a reason to speak.

Finding Meaning

Doug has been asked to give a keynote speech on resilience for Catholic Family Center in Rochester on September 10th. It's the first time he has said yes to something like that. He spent time reading Viktor Frankl's book, which is about finding meaning even in the worst possible circumstances. Frankl's argument is that if you can find the meaning, your chances of surviving and even thriving are much greater.

Doug has been finding meaning in pieces. In the letter from Trey. In the parents who read Jeffrey's chalkboard book at Divided Sky. In the donations coming in from people he has never met. In the conversations like this one, where someone listening might hear something they needed to hear.

He doesn't say he has moved on. He says he has moved forward. Moving on implies leaving Jeffrey behind. That is not what this is. Jeffrey is on the bathroom wall. He is in the songs on the morning drive. He is in the BMW joke and the cum laude diploma and the book of laws written on a chalkboard in Utah. He is present.

If Jeffrey were listening, Doug says he would want him to know the same thing he always knew: that they loved him and believed in him. That he didn't fail. He had a disease, and he fought it for 17 years with more strength than most people will ever have to find. That is not failure. That is a life.

Support the Jeffrey Emblidge Fund

The Jeffrey Emblidge Fund at the Divided Sky Foundation supports addiction recovery in Jeffrey's name. Doug's goal is $100,000. Donations can be made at dividedsky.org. When you give, put Jeffrey's name in the notes. If your heart leads you to support local recovery resources in Rochester instead, that matters too.