Heroes Do Exist

The Tale of Terry Fox
by Michael A. Aun, FIC, LUTCF, CSP, CPAE Speaker Hall of Fame

When I first met Terry Fox, we were joined together on a program in Toronto, Ontario, Canada before 4,000 Toastmasters at an international convention in 1978. We were both scheduled to speak to the group. I was competing for the World Championship of Public Speaking. Terry was competing for something far more important than trophies and awards. Terry Fox was competing for his life.

At the young age of 22, freckle-faced Terry Fox lost his life to a battle with cancer. Some of his Canadian brethren died with him.

On April 12, 1980, twenty-one year old Terry Fox began what has come to be known as his “Marathon of Hope.” Succumbing to cancer in the prime of his life, Fox decided he would bring attention to the awful disease with a marathon. He began a marathon across Canada with reporters and cameramen on his heels as he sought to cross his native land on foot.

Terry Fox lost his leg to cancer when he was a teenager. While in the hospital going through chemo, he was affected by the amount of suffering in the cancer ward and decided that, in his words, “Somewhere the hurting must stop.” He decided to run across Canada to raise funds for cancer research, running 28- 30 miles per day on one real leg and one artificial leg.

Three thousand three hundred thirty nine miles later, a choked up nation looked on as a young Terry Fox collapsed short of his goal. The unprecedented challenge to a nation brought an estimated $35 million in for cancer research as Fox’s dramatic run across Canada fell short as his health finally failed him.

In an earlier attempt to stop the cancer from spreading across his body, Fox underwent the amputation of his right knee. Now with the support of an artificial leg, he began the dramatic race to Canada’s west coast with his right leg amputated just above the knee. A tearful world looked on when he started in St. John’s Newfoundland, the point where North America reaches the farthest into the Atlantic Ocean.

With one artificial leg, Fox set out on his journey completing 28-30 miles per day along the Trans-Canada Highway, the narrow concrete and asphalt ribbon that spans the second largest nation on earth. With the world cheering him on through the eyes of the press, Terry Fox fought his biggest battle ever, and lost. His dramatic termination run in Thunder Bay brought an outpouring of emotion, the likes of which Canada has never seen before.

On September 1, 1980, 143 days and 3,339 miles into his “Marathon of Hope” across Canada, Terry was forced to stop running outside Thunder Bay, Ontario because the cancer had spread to his lungs. On June 28, 1981, he died at the age of 22. Nearly 6,000 Torontonians signed a petition urging creation of a commemorative stamp in Terry’s honor. A monument was erected at the Thunder Bay site where Terry’s courageous marathon ended. After months of resisting, Canada agreed to honor Terry’s Marathon of Hope on a stamp.

Terry Fox was awarded the Order of Canada, the country’s highest civilian recognition. A ballad was written about his cross-country endeavor, and campaigns for official government recognition of Terry’s Marathon of Hope sprang up all over Canada.

As he lay on his deathbed, Terry Fox said goodbye to a gracious nation and an emotional world that many felt were unable to believe in heroes anymore. Thin and pale, Terry developed a bronchitis-like infection and was spitting blood. A tearful nation looked on in prayer as young Terry Fox began the final 385 yards of his personal “Marathon for Life.”

Terry Fox’s life was not given in vain. There are hundreds of trivial sayings one could apply to the situation: “A winner never quits; a quitter never wins…” or “Winning isn’t everything; it’s the only thing.” Winning for Terry Fox was the breath of life. Perhaps the greatest tribute to Terry Fox is the fact that the foundation that he helped start has now raised $360 million for cancer research, about $10 for every Canadian citizen.

Here's another tribute to you Terry, may you be an inspiration to us all and a reminder that what we do here..... does count.

It Does Make A Difference When Those Unseen Eyes Are Watching

Dear friends,

I share with you today I story which I found on the internet thanks to my mummy. This story reminds me how much both my parents truly love me. If this story does touch you in any way, all I ask is that you share it with your friends.


Author: Michael A. Aun, FIC, LUTCF, CSP, CPAE Speaker Hall of Fame
One of the most remarkable sports stories I enjoy telling from the platform is about a football coach by the name of Lou Little, who coached at Georgetown University before going on to become famous at Columbia University. Coach Little had a big, strapping tackle on his team who was more like a teddy bear than a defensive tackle. In four years at Georgetown, the kid never missed a practice. In four years, he had nearly a 4.0 grade point ratio. And yet, in those four years, the kid never started, and the only time he ever got into the game was when Georgetown was 40 points ahead or 40 points behind.

Yet, Coach Little kept him on the team. He was a moral sparkplug, but he simply lacked the killer instinct that it takes to make it as a big time college tackle. Four days before the last game of the young man’s career, Coach Little received a telegram informing him that the young man’s only living relative, his father, had died suddenly. It was Coach Lou Little who was asked to pass on the bad news to the boy. “Son, I’m sorry to tell you that your dad died yesterday,” said the Coach. “You’re not a starter on our team and you won’t be starting on Saturday. Why not go home and take care of matters with your dad? We’ll see if we can win this one for you.”
On the day of the big game, Coach Little was a little bit surprised to look up and see the young man standing there in the locker room. He had a look of an eagle in his eye. This was not the same tackle he had coached the previous four years.

The boy pleaded with him: “Coach, you’ve got to play me today. I’ve never asked you for a favor, but I need to get in the game today. Just one play.” “Son, you’re not a starter. This game is for the championship,” he explained. “Just one play Coach,” he begged. “One play is all I want. If I screw up, take me right out.” The coach thought about it for a moment. What harm could it do to put him in on the kickoff? Georgetown won the toss and elected to defer to the second half, allowing the coach to put the kid on the field right away. The kick sailed two yards deep into the end zone. The receiver elected to run it out but only made it to the five yard line. Boom! The big strapping tackle greeted the kick receiver and dropped him in his tracks.

True to his word, the kid got up and ran off the field. Coach Little had kept his end of the bargain; now he would keep his. All he wanted was one play. As he ran off the field, Coach Little signaled for him to stay on the field. On the first play from scrimmage, the opposing quarterback called an audible and handed the ball off to his big bruising fullback who dove off tackle on a trap play, aimed right at this young man. He fought off the block, tossing the pulling guard to the ground. Boom! He greeted the 240 pound fullback and dropped him in his tracks. He hit him so hard that the kid was hauled off the field. That afternoon saw that young man make 15 unassisted tackles. He made 12 assisted tackles. He caused one fumble and recovered another. The clincher was the pass that he intercepted and returned for Georgetown’s winning touchdown. By any standards, that was a terrific year and he did it all in one afternoon.

When it was all over and done with and all the celebration had ended in the locker room, the only two remaining were Coach Little and the young man, standing there awkwardly looking at one another. The coach said, “Son, I owe you an apology. I thought I was a pretty fair judge of character. Never have I seen you perform the way you performed today. Have I judged you so poorly?” “Coach, you knew my dad died,” the boy said. “You knew my dad was blind.” “Yes, I’ve seen you leading him around the campus when he used to visit you,” said his coach. “Today was the first time my daddy ever saw me play.”
It does make a difference when those unseen eyes are watching.

An Opportunity to Realize True Human Nature Presents Itself

Dear friends,

I write to you today to share with you an amazing story a friend sent to me 3 years ago, I have saved it in my e-mail since then. I am sure I have shared it with some of you. But I today I decided that I should share it again. I hope that it touches you the way that it did to me. If this story does move you, all I ask is that you share it with others as well. :)


An opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself.
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.
After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:

"He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?" The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child." Then he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?"
Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play, not expecting much. The boy looked around for guidance and a few boys nodded approval, why not? So he took matters into his own hands and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning." Shay struggled over to the team's bench put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted.

In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat.

Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible 'cause Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing the other team putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over, but the pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the head of the first baseman, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever ran that far but made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to second base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team, who had a chance to be the hero for his team for the first time. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions and he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay" Shay reached Third base, the opposing shortstop ran to help him and turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and those watching were on their feet were screaming, "Shay, run home!" Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the "grand slam" and won the game for his team."That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "The boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world." Shay didn't make it to another summer and died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy and coming home and seeing his mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!


Credits to Ms Wai Kar Leng for sending me this e-mail 3 years ago.