Do Not Go Gentle

I firmly believe life is not a zero-sum game. It seems, however, I am in the minority. Case in point, the dedication of the U.S. Post Office in Freedom Pennsylvania to John Scott Challis, Jr. John was a brave young man who died of cancer about two years ago. He was eighteen years old. As his cancer advanced, he became in inspiration to many people because of the way he lived, not the way he died. He got to meet, and spend time with major league baseball players, watched a hockey game from owner Mario Lemieux’s box at the Mellon Arena, and made a lasting impression on Joe Maddon, manager of the Tampa Bay Rays. Maddon still has an autographed jersey from young Mr. Challis in his office in the Rays’ locker room.

An article about the Post Office dedication appeared in the June 7, 2010 edition of the Beaver County Times, including the paper’s on-line edition. Like most papers, the Times allows readers to post comments to articles in the on-line edition. In this case, I wish they had made an exception. The ugliness in some of the comments was overwhelming, and horrifying. Many of them were to the effect that people, even young people, die of cancer all the time, and what was so special about this kid? Do these people not realize that the honor bestowed upon John Challis does not diminish the lives or memories of their own loved ones who died too soon? I am the brother of a man who died way too soon. He was only 20. At 29 years remove, it still hurts, so I know whereof I speak.

I’ll tell you what was so special about this kid. He didn’t have an ounce of give-up in him. Stories of his courage abound, from the RBI single he hit in a varsity baseball game a few months before he succumbed to cancer, to his starting a foundation to help gravely ill kids realize some of their sports-related dreams. He realized he wasn’t the only one who would like to watch a hockey game from Mario Lemieux’s box. “Courage + Believe = Life” That’s the name of his foundation, and in effect, his epitaph. It’s not grammatical, and to a purist like me, an affront to the English language. But for this young man, I’ll make an exception.

But that’s not what’s so special about this kid. What’s so special about this kid is that as he was dying, his father whispered to him that it was okay, and he could let go.

“No.”

He raged against the dying of the light. That’s what’s so special about this kid.