John F. Kennedy said once, in an offhand comment during a news conference, that life was unfair. In the case of Peter Frates, that goes triple.
Frates battled Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis for seven years. In that time, he became in many ways a spokesman for the illness and the fundraising that was undertaken in many quarters for research into the disease that was named for baseball great Lou Gehrig.
Each spring, there were Peter Frates baseball games. Among the venues hosting those games was Lynn’s Fraser Field.
In 2014, two years into Frates’ struggle with ALS, he became an inspiration for the Ice Bucket Challenge that raised more than $200 million nationwide to fund research toward eradicating the disease. I’m sure many of you reading this doused yourself with ice water. Frates is the reason why.
Monday, Peter Frates, 34, died, peacefully, surrounded by his family.
There are many definitions of courage. But Peter Frates may have defined it best, not by what he said, but what he did, and how he lived his life once he knew what fate had dealt him.
He lived that life in dignity, and used the unspeakably tragic circumstances of his illness as a vehicle to help people — especially those destined to fall victim to the disease.
Again, to quote JFK, Peter Frates was a profile in courage.
I make no secret of my devotion to St. John’s Prep. I graduated from The Prep (as we like to call it, as if there isn’t any other prep) and take great pride in all things Eagle.
I watched Frates play sports up there, covered him, talked to him a few times, knew about what a tremendous baseball player he was, and followed his career at Boston College, certain that one day, I’d be watching him on TV in a Major League game.
It didn’t happen, but Frates kept on playing the game. In 2012, he was diagnosed. That autumn, at a homecoming reunion, I had a chance to talk to Peter and his father, John. At this point, Peter was still able to walk. I shook his hand, but you know how it is. It’s difficult to know what to say.
When I told his father I thought Pete was doing remarkably well, he gave me a reality slap of sorts.
“Do you know how it feels,” he said, looking me straight in the eye, “to have to dress your 28-year-old son?”
The Frates family deserves all the credit in the world for keeping its composure and maintaining its commitment throughout this ordeal. His parents, John and Nancy; his brother and sister, Andrew and Jennifer; and — perhaps most of all — his wife, Julie and their daughter, Lucy, bravely attended as many functions in Pete’s honor as they could — baseball games, fundraisers, you name it. They were there, with smiles on their faces and exuding optimism. It seems trite to say “I don’t know how they did it,” but it’s so true.
How would you do seeing your son, or your brother, or husband — a very intelligent person and an incredible athlete — fall victim so such a hideous disease?
Three years ago, when the NCAA presented its Inspiration Award to Frates, the ceremony was at the family’s Beverly home. Because Frates was unable to attend the ceremony, the ceremony came to him. NCAA President Dr. Mark Emmert and his staff braved flying in a snowstorm to get to Beverly.
The Frates family opened up their house to the NCAA, the BC baseball team, reporters, and family members. All they ever wanted to do was celebrate their son’s life and — I’m sure — find some meaning behind the terrible burden he, and they, had to bear.
“Pete was an inspiration to so many people around the world who drew strength from his courage and resiliency,” the Frates family said in a statement.
“He was a noble fighter who inspired us all to use our talents and strengths in the service of others,” the family said. “Remarkably, Pete never complained about his illness. Instead, he saw it as an opportunity to give hope to other patients and their families. In his lifetime, he was determined to change the trajectory of a disease that had no treatment or cure.”
