I was just cleaning up my hard drive, moving some files back and forth, and found this story that I typed up.
I believe it was something I heard on the radio, probably Garrison Keillor.
This weekend, in the central Ohio town where I grew up, there will be a charity race through the streets in honor of Jack Roth, who was my best friend since we were 5 years old.
Jack died of cancer in 2004. We hold the race in his name each year at this time. He may have been the kindest person I have ever known. It was his defining quality; whenever he would see a little kid in a driveway trying mightily to shoot baskets, Jack would instinctively call out: “Nice shot!” Whenever he would see a child struggling to throw a baseball, he would say: “Good arm!” Seemingly small moments – I must have seen him do it a thousand times during our lives. And every time, he made someone feel a little better.
There will be hundreds of people running in that race this weekend, and if Jack were there, I know exactly what he would be doing: standing near the finish line, applauding for the racers who are the slowest, the ones who come in near the back of the pack. Cheering them on. Telling them that they’ve done a good job
Hope you enjoyed the story!
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