Back in May 2007, Lori and Chris Coble’s world shattered in an instant. They were a young family from Orange County, California, with three beautiful kids: 5-year-old Kyle, 4-year-old Emma, and 2-year-old Katie. On May 4, Lori was driving home in her minivan, stuck in freeway traffic, when a semi-truck loaded with tons of cargo rear-ended them at high speed. The impact was catastrophic. None of the children survived.
Lori was seriously injured and rushed to the hospital, while the kids were taken to different facilities. By the time she regained consciousness, Emma and Katie were already gone.

Chris hurried her to see Kyle, but it was too late. In a moment Chris later shared with Oprah, Lori, still battered and in a wheelchair, reached out to hug her little boy one last time, whispering that he needed to join his sisters. They made the heartbreaking decision to stop life support. Chris held Kyle until his heart stopped.
The grief was overwhelming—raw, endless, the kind that makes you question everything. Yet, in the depths of that pain, Lori and Chris made a promise to each other: they wouldn’t give up on life. They vowed to lean on one another and keep going, no matter how dark it felt.
As time passed, a quiet longing grew in their hearts—to be parents again. Chris had undergone a vasectomy years earlier, but they turned to IVF. Miraculously, it worked. They saw three healthy embryos: two girls and one boy, echoing the family they’d lost. Just over a year after the accident, they welcomed triplets—Jake, Ashley, and Ellie—each carrying a middle name in honor of Kyle, Emma, and Katie.

Raising the triplets brought waves of joy mixed with lingering sorrow. Chris once opened up to People magazine about those early years: “It took me over four years to really start healing from the fog of what happened. With the triplets, you’d have this pure happiness, but inside, the pain was still there.” He’d slip away to cry in private, then return with a smile for the babies. Lori threw herself into motherhood, becoming an advocate for highway safety along the way.
Family friend Becky Leonard describes Lori simply: “She’s incredible—everyone who meets her adores her. Above all, she’s a devoted mom.”
The Cobles’ story of resilience touched millions, a reminder of hope rising from tragedy. But life, it seems, had more challenges in store.

In the summer of 2025, Chris started noticing small but worrying changes in Lori, then 48. She seemed clumsier—dropping things, bumping into furniture, stubbing her toes more often. Then came stroke-like symptoms: her mouth drooping slightly. It was impossible to ignore anymore.
In mid-July, after rushing her to the ER, doctors delivered crushing news: a large, aggressive stage 4 glioblastoma—an incurable brain cancer.
“I thought we’d already faced our share of life-altering disasters,” Chris shared with People. Treatments have been a grueling rollercoaster: surgeries to remove as much of the tumor as possible, radiation, chemo, and setbacks like a serious brain infection requiring more operations. Lori has lost vision in one eye and much of her motor function, though therapy offers some hope for improvement.
Recently, she’s made it clear she doesn’t want further surgeries. The family has shifted to home hospice care, setting up advanced medical support so she can be surrounded by Chris, the triplets (now high school seniors), and their dogs.
Chris, on unpaid leave from work, has been open about the toll: “The wife I knew is changed forever, and I’m not sure if she’ll come back the same. She’s been knocked down again and again, but the fact she’s still here is a testament to her strength.”
A GoFundMe set up by a family friend has raised significant support for the costly in-home care—around $30,000 a month—to ease the burden as they cherish every moment together.
The Coble family’s story is one of profound loss, quiet miracles, and unbreakable love. They’re facing this latest chapter with the same grace that’s inspired so many before. Sending thoughts and prayers to Lori, Chris, and their kids during this incredibly tough time.