School bus crash victim remembered as dedicated UT scholar, friend: 'He was like sunshine'
Ryan Wallace had spent seven years preparing a 196-page dissertation, seeking to address the "informational and ideological gaps" between the public and journalists, at the University of Texas. He'd surveyed about 600 science journalists and 1,000 participants nationwide.
True to his form, Ryan Wallace found an optimistic twist to dismal news. His research aimed to help establish a foundational understanding to "guide more effective practices—as journalists and scientists face the challenge of communicating climate change and new threats in the future."
Mere weeks before he was to defend his doctoral research, he was killed in a crash involving a school bus and concrete truck in Bastrop on March 22. He was 33 years old.
Ryan Wallace's unrelenting style of research and multitasking ability were applauded among the faculty at the Moody College of Communication: It became his trademark. Prior to his time in Austin, Ryan Wallace, a native of La Verne, California, held several concurring part-time and full-time roles, serving as a science grant writer for the University of Southern California; the editor-in-chief of the Science Times; and founder and editor of Archaic Press Magazine, a fashion editorial — all while juggling a master's degree in biotechnology at California State University, San Marcos.
Achievements aside, Ryan Wallace was remembered for his radiating kindness and generosity and for having a highly sociable personality with the ability to bring people together.
"He was like sunshine. When you were around him, you could feel the brightness and enthusiasm," UT associate professor Iris Chyi said in an interview with the American-Statesman. "Among our graduate students, he was one of the most loving and the most loved students that our school had the privilege to have."
Circumstances of the crash on Texas 21
On the afternoon of March 22, Ryan Wallace was driving a 2024 Hyundai behind a Hays school district bus on Texas 21. A concrete truck headed in the opposite direction veered into the wrong lane and struck the bus, which then rolled over and landed on its side.
The concrete truck also struck Ryan Wallace’s vehicle, and officials believe Ryan Wallace’s vehicle did not make contact with the bus, Texas Department of Public Safety Sgt. Deon Cockrell told the American-Statesman on Wednesday.
The DPS initially said that Wallace’s vehicle had struck the school bus. The agency also misidentified the make and model of Wallace’s vehicle in a media briefing the day of the crash.
The driver of the truck was Jerry Hernandez, 42, who told investigators that he had smoked marijuana the night before the crash, slept three hours and done a “small amount of cocaine” the morning of the crash, according to an affidavit for a search warrant. Hernandez had not been arrested as of Thursday afternoon.
'Ryan Wallace was a light'
Ryan Wallace’s sister, Diana Wallace, described him as someone who was devoted to his friends and family and who loved the arts and fine foods. He was deeply committed to his education, she said; he traveled to Italy and Russia for ecological research and “was already thinking about further education” beyond his doctorate.
He was a program manager at Cedars-Sinai Cancer Center in Los Angeles, a role that allowed him to merge “his love for the sciences, passion for healthcare, and unique skills for writing and team management,” Diana Wallace said in a statement. Ryan Wallace traveled frequently for work and school.
“Ryan Wallace was one of the brightest minds and most shining personalities in any room from our hometown of La Verne, California to Moscow, Russia,” the statement read. “His life was cut short in an instant, and it breaks our hearts to know the world will no longer be blessed by his being. He will never take pictures in his cap and gown in the bluebonnet fields or see his niece and nephews go off to college as he has pushed for them to do. Ryan Wallace was a light. Please help us in never letting his name or memory fade.”
Mary Angela Bock, a university professor and graduate adviser, remembered Ryan Wallace's joyous laughter and buoyant personality.
"He was really strong friends with other people in his cohort, showing up for their graduations and their events," she said. "People are mourning from all over the country."
Bock was sufficiently impressed with Ryan Wallace in her class on qualitative methods that she supported his application for a prestigious continuing fellowship, which provides financial support for full-time research.
Another professor recalled when he phoned Ryan Wallace, his former teaching assistant and research assistant, from a hospital gurney to ask him to cover his class.
"And the next day he was substituting for me," Rosental Alves said. "He was so reliable and so generous."
Chyi recalled seeing Ryan Wallace for the first time in a year, just two days before his death, after providing remote guidance with his dissertation. She said he excitedly discussed his upcoming dissertation defense and summer plans to travel. It was possibly his last day on campus.
Chyi had been responsible for his enrollment at UT, having recruited him into the doctoral program. She worked with him during his first year of enrollment, and his last.
"I think it was me who was lucky to have the privilege to work with him closely and help him reach this very important milestone," Chyi said. "And I enjoyed every minute working with him."
The doctorate committee will meet in April to evaluate Ryan Wallace's research and plans to set time aside to allow fellow doctoral candidates and students to share memories about him. Chyi said she believes his work merits the committee's evaluation and recognition, and that a posthumous doctorate will likely be recommended.
A memorial for Ryan Wallace is currently pending.
People can donate to Ryan Wallace's family through a GoFundMe campaign. Kathleen McElroy, a professor and former director of the UT journalism school, is also raising funds to help pay for expenses associated with his death.