But Michael didn't die. Instead he was rushed to the neuro-critical-care unit at Johns Hopkins Hospital. Doctors drilled a hole in his head to relieve the pressure. He was given steroids to reduce the swelling.
Five days later, at 3 in the morning, the Pattersons received a phone call.
"Normally, when you get a call at that hour, it's not good," Patterson said. "It was the nurse at the hospital. She said: 'He opened his eyes.' "
What followed was a long period of rehabilitation for Mike Patterson. The boy in the Towson High gifted and talented program now had to learn how to walk, talk, hold a fork, tie his shoes.
Fifteen months later, he was well enough to throw out the first ball before an Orioles game at Camden Yards. He's 33 now, a credit counselor and doing fine.
But 19 months ago, Diana Patterson lost a long and exhausting battle with a series of severe health problems.
It started as skin cancer in the early '80s. Two years later, lymph nodes were removed. By 1988, she developed a brain tumor from the melanoma, which caused slurring of her speech and seizures.
Chemotherapy and radiation beat back the cancer. Life was good for 14 years. But in 2003, having problems with her balance, she was diagnosed with hydrocephalus caused by the radiation treatments.
Two years later, she had a series of strokes. Soon she was incapacitated.
"We had a decision to make," Patterson recalled. "Put her in a home or take care of here at home."
They decided to care for her at home. What followed was a grueling three-year ordeal. Diana Patterson endured one extensive treatment after another.
Clare Patterson, Ted and Diana's daughter and an engineer, moved back home to help. Eventually, they hired around-the-clock care-givers. But for a long time, it was mostly father and daughter who saw to Diana Patterson's needs.
Ted Patterson was still getting up at 4:30 a.m. to go to work at WCBM. But Clare would often wake her father in the middle of the night to hold Diana on her side while Clare changed and cleaned her mother.
"I'd be standing there in a trance," he said. "It was awful."
The strain on everyone was enormous. Without long-term health insurance, the medical bills were overwhelming.
Lou Grasmick, the lumber magnate, started a fundraising drive to help. Soon various other local big-shots, including Peter Angelos, Art Modell and Steve Bisciotti, were writing checks that helped defray some of the costs.
Diana Patterson's condition worsened. The family agonized over what to do. A decision was made to take her off life-support. She died on Feb. 1, 2008 at GBMC.
Now it's just Ted Patterson in the big, two-story colonial, where photos and journals and knick-knacks testify to a happy 37-year marriage.
As I left the house the other day, it was hard to believe we wouldn't be hearing Ted Patterson doing sports reports anymore.
"Well," he said, "I'd welcome any kind of free-lance work. I want to stay busy."
That's the way it is with these guys who have broadcasting in their blood.
You can take the microphone away for a while.
But they often find a way to get it back.
Listen to Kevin Cowherd Tuesdays from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. with Jerry Coleman on Fox 1370 AM Sports.
