Roots and Backpacks

I heard on the news this morning that Dick Hoyt had passed away in his home yesterday at the age of 80.  His name most likely isn’t familiar to many but you simply need to think of the ironman father running marathons pushing his quadriplegic son (Rick).  His most famous last run before retiring, the 2014 Boston Marathon, was one I accidentally became forever connected with and have not since forgotten.

An excerpt below is included from the TeamHoyt website which cuts and pastes the background story:

Rick was born in 1962 to Dick and Judy Hoyt. As a result of oxygen deprivation to Rick’s brain at the time of his birth, Rick was diagnosed as a spastic quadriplegic with cerebral palsy. Dick and Judy were advised to institutionalize Rick because there was no chance of him recovering, and little hope for Rick to live a “normal” life. This was just the beginning of Dick and Judy’s quest for Rick’s inclusion in community, sports, education and one day, the workplace.

In 1975, at the age of 13, Rick was finally admitted into public school. After high school, Rick attended Boston University, and he graduated with a degree in Special Education in 1993. Dick retired in 1995 as a Lt. Colonel from the Air National Guard, after serving his country for 37 years.

There is obviously a lot more to the story but everyone now has some general context.

In April 2014, I traveled to Boston to present on a monitoring/intervention system my team and I had developed that relied on a lot of data but parceled it down to basic categories of need for students – a response system to differentiate a triage of interventions.  It was a good model which is why I got the opportunity to present in Cambridge at their most storied university.  I arrived on April 22^nd to a downtown Boston hotel which overlooked endless storefronts with “Boston Strong” posters; I arrived a day after the Boston Marathon one year removed from the terrible bombings.  I literally could have gone a day earlier if I had paid half attention and seen the race from my hotel room.  As mentioned, it was Dick (and Rick’s) last Boston Marathon.  In more “you can’t make this stuff up reveals,” Meb Keflezighi won the men’s race in 2:08:37 and became the first American male runner to win the Boston Marathon since 1983.

I’m not a runner by any definition.  A couple of weeks ago my oldest and I risked missing a flight due to traffic and we ran like our lives depended on it.  By the end, and by the way my heart was thumping and my breathing about sucked back my face mask altogether, I quickly determined I’m no Dick Hoyt.  And if I had any doubt, the next morning my legs reminded me and not so gently to not do that again until I get back in shape.

My boys came home with their Fjalraven backpacks, which doesn’t mean a whole lot to most probably but in our household it connects to the Swedish SAAB dad-mobile my oldest sports (turbo wagons are the stuff of legends by the way).  And my wife fell asleep early again in a long-sleeve T from the famous Canadian-revered outdoorsy clothing line.  Roots and backpacks might be just what we need to bounce back from this pandemic. Remembering what got you started in your crusade and having a knapsack full of needed items might prove essential.  As I have given this past year more thought, I’m inclined to get back to my own roots. Dick Hoyt reminded me again it’s more than okay to dedicate a lifetime to helping others, or at least trying to do so.