Bridge for Max | Parents honor son's legacy by protecting future hikers

It wasn't Max's first time hiking through Mission Trails Park. 

But on his third and final hike, Max was caught in an unexpected storm. According to National Weather Service records, it rained almost a full inch that day. 

The San Diego River had swollen to a dangerous torrent. Hail furiously pelted him as he neared the end of his hike. He tried to cross to get back to his car and never made it. 

Max died five minutes away from the parking lot. 

As his mother Lauri Yoler drove to the trail to join the search party for her son when he went missing, she was in shock, she says. She knew Max was an experienced hiker — and he'd always promised to not take risks when he was climbing or running. Outrage had settled in as she prepared to look for her missing child. 

That was until she parked and saw the visitor trail loop on a sign. 

"I initially thought, 'Oh, he must have taken a big risk,"' she said. "When you take risks, you take risks. But then I realized, no, he stayed on the main trail. He wasn't taking risks."

She said she realized he had no other choice that day. He hadn't broken the promise to his mother.

CBS 8 first met Yoler back in 2021. Just one day after they found Max dead in the water near a waterfall at the park. 

She told CBS 8 that day she hoped safety measures — like a bridge — would be constructed to prevent future deaths from happening. 

Almost four years after his death, she and her husband are close to constructing that bridge themselves. 

"How could they build such a beautiful park and forget to put a bridge over the San Diego River Crossing," she questioned.

Yoler and her husband Ben Lenail say Max was extraordinary — parental bias aside. 

Kindness and curiosity were some of his biggest motivators. He loved the outdoors. He loved people and animals. He loved to learn. 

Max was in his final semester of Brown University remotely and had moved to San Diego two weeks before his death so he could be immersed in nature as he worked toward becoming a doctor. 

Mr. Lenail said they both feared the "devastating tragedy" could break them. But the way they chose to process their grief was influenced by how Max carried himself in his every day life. 

"We could become ghosts," Mr. Lenail said. "And we don't want to become ghosts. What we need to do is embrace the memory of Max, the spirit of Max, to celebrate who he was. We need to totally love and mentor and adopt his friends so that his spirit lives through them."

Mr. Lenail says their goal is to help hikers like Max for generations to come. 

Yoler agreed. She said Max was never one to embrace negativity or anger, and they wanted to respect what he stood for when constructing the bridge. 

"We wanted to do something positive and never turn toward negativity," she said. "Sadness, for sure. But anger is a pretty ugly emotion, and anger drains more out of the people who are left. It doesn't bring the person back."

Several local and state leaders have voiced support for the bridge construction.

Mr. Lenail said two key people were San Diego city councilman Raul Campillo and Jennifer Morrissey, the executive director of the Mission Trails Regional Park Foundation, were "supportive" and "unbelievably gracious."

But there was a hiccup — projects of this size with public money could take much longer. While Yoler and Mr. Lenail say they learned a bridge over that river has been in the city's master plan for decades, they were told it's been put on hold due to a lack of funding.

Mr. Lenail said city employees recommended they take an alternate route. 

"The city folks said 'don't work through us, because it will cost a lot more and it will take forever, so you're better off having a private project on public land,"' Mr. Lenail said. 

Yoler says they're still working through a lengthy permitting process and making sure the project doesn't negatively impact the land the bridge will reside on.

"We don't want to disrupt the environment or put up something the public doesn't think is both beautiful and will last and keep everyone safe," she said. "Our whole goal is to make a safer crossing for the river."

Yoler emphasized the need for the bridge to be as beautiful as its surroundings to pay homage to Max's love for art. 

"You're in this beautiful park and the alternative was wading through a river with no safety," she said. "We really wanted a design that would beautify the park and pay tribute to the beauty of the nature around it."

The family is aiming to inaugurate the bridge by February 2026, what would have been Max's 27th birthday. They're in the process of working with the city to review the biological and cultural impact the construction would have on the park, Mr. Lenail says. 

It's a tight schedule though. 

"It's bold, but it's doable," he said. 

More than three and a half years after Max's death, and Mr. Lenail says people still reach out to them after they visit the park. 

Even strangers. 

"We are so touched when people are at the crossing," he said. "They don't know us, but they say, 'I'm thinking of the young man who drowned here. I put a flower, paid my respects and said a prayer.' That moves us to the core. 

Through donors, both private foundations and individuals, the family has raised $2.5 million — but they still need another $1.5 million. The easiest way to donate is to head to BridgeforMax.com.