Racing for Charity, The Seaside Lemans 2011

Every year, Dewitt Davenport and Davenport Companies organize the Seaside Lemans race for charity at Mashpee Commons on Cape Cod.  This year, with Senator Scott Brown as the grand marshal, I once again was privileged to participate as the Captain of the Air National Guard racing team.  Thirteen teams race karts provided by F1 Outdoors, which reach speeds over 50 miles per hour, around a track in the parking lot of Mashpee Commons. For the second year, Cape Cod Aggregates of Hyannis selflessly donated their kart entry to the military.  Last year’s experience was eye opening.  Our team started in 11^th place and finished 9^th.  The race itself was exhilarating, but at the same time, I felt like I was on the edge of a serious accident with each turn.  Let’s just say that the other teams took the race for charity just a bit more serious than we did. Undaunted, that twinge of competitiveness shifted into gear again this year when Cape Cod Aggregates once again asked if we’d like to race on their behalf.  Armed with a new perspective on the race after our preceding year’s less than favorable experience, we accepted.  Our goal was simple, not to get hurt and to finish higher than our starting position.  Given we pulled a grid position of 10^th out of 13 teams, I was confident we’d meet the second goal, I was uneasy about the first.  The more experienced teams winced when the track organizers decided to make a simple yet significant change.  In the previous years, the course went counter clockwise, but this year the course would go clockwise.  This changed the focus of the race from pure speed in previous years to driving skills in this year’s extravaganza. 

Armed with our Gucci “Pit Now” sign, I assembled the team at our tent and we prepared for the race.  We walked the track and strategized.  We planned the driver’s rotation and went over the rules with a fine toothed comb.  We sized up the other teams, and introduced ourselves.  And with a “Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines,” we were off.  My team settled into its rotation and we seemed to be comfortable in the 9^th position in the first part of the race. As my drivers got more comfortable, we leaped up to 6^th, and we spend most of the day there.  Content, as the last hour approached, we did one last huddle to take stock of things.  As we culled the data, the verdict seemed to be in.  We had one team behind us who we had to hold off until the finish, but catching the teams in front of us seemed just out of reach. Still, the competitive juices flowing, we decided to change our rotation to see if we could close the gap. The last hour would feature 3 drivers.  Our tactic was to minimize the seat changes to pick up a lap or two so we might be able to pick up a spot by the end of the race.  It worked.  We drove right on the edge of the envelope, and probably surprising us more than anyone, we moved up to 4^th place when the checkered flag fell!

This year, 4 charities each received over $30,000 as a direct result of this amazing event:

• ·         Cape Abilities provides jobs, homes, transportation and other services for people with disabilities across Cape Cod. In addition to life skills and therapeutic programs, Cape Abilities has developed several entrepreneurial businesses that employ people with disabilities, including Welcome to Cape Cod Beach Buckets and Cape Abilities Farm. Cape Abilities also has a collaborative relationship with Centerville Pie Company to provide jobs for people with disabilities. Part of Cape Cod for over 40 years, Cape Abilities believes everyone has abilities, not disabilities.
• ·         The mission of Duffy Health Center is to prevent and reduce homelessness on Cape Cod through community collaborations and the provision of integrated medical, behavioral health, case management and housing services to persons who are homeless or at risk of homelessness. Duffy uses an integrated model of care – attending to the physical, mental, and emotional well-being of each person. In addition to the health center, clinicians assist in shelters, on the street, in homeless camps, and in the Mobile Health Clinic.
• ·         Cape Cod Child Development is the largest provider of quality childcare, early education, developmental intervention and family support services on Cape Cod, the Islands and Wareham. Programs include Early Intervention for young children with disabilities and delays, Preschool/Head Start, School-Age programs, parent support groups and family workshops. The “Caring for Children” program promotes activities that nurture every aspect of a child’s development—academic skills, social-emotional health, and physical wellness.
• ·         Since 1972, Elder Services of Cape Cod and the Islands has been a central source of information and services enabling elders to enhance their quality of life and maintain their independence. The Meals-on-Wheels Program provides a daily meal to homebound individuals aged sixty and older who are unable to prepare nutritious meals for themselves. Meals are delivered by volunteers and are available in every town. Meals-on-Wheels are more than just meals; they’re a safety check and a vital human link to the outside world. Last year, volunteers delivered 216,571 meals in the community.

One more important note: along the same lines as the fighter pilot adage, “Lose sigh lose fight,” I had a tangible example of philanthropy right under me the whole day that I once again need to mention by way of a tangible example of selfless giving.  To the group at Cape Cod Aggregates, who donated the significant entry fee for our Kart, and then once again ask members of the military to race it for them, Thank you.  These acts of overt, purposeful and heartfelt support for all members of the military make a significant and lasting impression.  I ask that in your mid-week scramble, take a moment and support a local charity or by from a local business that supports charities in your community.  The Davenport Companies had a vision 11 years ago to have a kart race for charity.  Some said that it was a ridiculous idea that could never work; other said it was too much trouble, but I say that after 11 years of overwhelming success, they have dispatched the naysayers.  More importantly, they are an amazing example of how leadership vision, planning, perfect execution and learning along the way can have a real impact on the people around you.

Jeff Coombs Memorial 5k, finishing strong.

Christian and Martin Richard

Sunday, September 19th should have been Jeff Coombs 53rd birthday. Instead, over 500 runners and supporters gathered in Abington, Massachusetts to pay tribute to Jeff and the family he left behind when he was killed aboard American Flight 11 at the World Trade Center in New York City on September 11, 2001. The Jeff Coombs Memorial 5k road race is a fun run to support the Jeff Coombs Foundation. Jeff’s wife, Christie Coombs has done tireless work organizing and promoting this event for years. You can see details at the Foundation’s web site.

This year, my son Christian and I decided to run in the race. The reason goes back one year when at a friend’s wedding, I met Christie. She told me about Jeff and the Foundation and she listened intently to my story being one of the first scrambled to chase the hijacked airliners that terribly dark day. “You have to run the race next year,” she said.

“I won’t miss it,” I promised.

So as the dawn broke, I woke my son Christian, and we set out for the 45 minute drive to Abington. On the way, Christian said, “Can we listen to some pump up music?”

I said, “Of course!”

As we approached the race Headquarters, which doubled as a local school, the crowd was much larger than I anticipated. We quickly registered and made our way to the back of the school. Christie was on stage welcoming everyone in her very special way. Someone sang the national anthem absolutely beautifully. After, it was time to make our way to the start. We gathered and I had flash backs to getting in the “corral” at the Boston Marathon this past April. It was crowded. But as the buzz began to reverberate through the crowd, the vibe was much different. I looked around and saw normal people, moms, dads, kids; I talked with my son, and my friend Mike stretched. We talked with the people around us, some asking for the time, some asking for techniques. One lady asked me if the bibs with our numbers on them had a timing chip inside of it because she said, “you look like a runner!”

Jeffrey Coombs Memorial 5k

I found that funny, but was flattered. An unintelligible announcement from the front of the line, rustling, a high five with Christian and a “good luck” to Mike and off we went.

It was very crowded for the first half mile. Bumping, a trip, crazy Ivan, inside, outside, an elbow and finally Christian and I had made our way to some clear airspace and a good pace. Mike was pulling ahead on a mission to beat 25. Having run the Boston, I had the right shoes and gear, but I had not prepared my son nearly as well. I felt badly about that, but when life is busy, sometimes details are missed. A case in point was Christian’s shoes. He had done a “dumpster dive” into the shoe bin that morning to find, a) two shoes that matched, and b) two shoes that fit. Unfortunately, what he found were not running shoes. Undaunted, Christian kept up the pace. He was on a mission, too. He wasn’t racing an arbitrary readout on a clock, ticking aimlessly forward into a measure of the future, no; Christian was on a quest to support Jeff and the foundation by simply not giving up. See, while I had trained for the 5k, Christian was busy settling into the first two tumultuous weeks of his sophomore year of high school.

The course meandered through Abington up and down side streets and by police who had been charged with maintaining traffic safety and good order. At the 1 mile point, the pain set into Christian’s feet. We spoke, and I encouraged him. “Use those long legs, buddy, let them do the work,” I said.

His red face showed the effort and the discomfort. He asked how far we’d gone and then gasped when I told him the apparently disappointing news, “1 mile down, great pace!”

We turned the corner and faced a rather daunting hill. We attacked it wanting to show it we owned it. About half way up, I really felt good. My 30 inch inseams wanted to burst and dominate the hill. I looked at Christian and said, “Do you need to walk?”

The question was met with an emphatic, “NO!”

I said, “Do you mind if I step it up a bit?”

“Go Dad, Go,” he said with a smile.

I broke forward. Inside I scoffed the hill, I ran faster at a peak pace for me. “Push it,” I said to myself.

I checked my six and saw Christian, his face was focused firmly down at the pavement slightly in front of him. I pushed up the hill, but now with just a twinge of apprehension. Then it happened. Just like always, exactly when I am not expecting it. It happened.

A quiet voice whispered in my ear, “Why are you running this race?”

I thought to myself, “Why AM I running this race?”

I didn’t have to ask myself twice. I cleared the flow to the middle of the road, slowed my pace ever so slightly, until Christian looked up and realized he had closed the distance between us. Nothing was said, but I sensed a slight smile on Christian’s face, and I felt and overwhelming sense of love.  It was the kind of moment that feels bigger than you.

“How are you doing,” I asked. 

“Man, my feet really hurt, and I should have trained more, but I am not giving up, I am not stopping,” Christian said with a very persuasive confidence. 

I looked around at some mom’s gliding steadily over the course.  A few had succumbed to the hill, and decided to walk a bit.  A man ran past me panting and sweating, he was on a mission.  A high school kid darted quickly by and then capitulated to the overzealous pace. No matter what we all were doing, or how they were running, jogging or walking, we all shared one thing common – we all knew why we were there.  Sure some wanted to win the race, others wanted to beat a time, and some just wanted to finish, but as we made our way through the streets of Abington, the vibe was one of a shared sense of purpose and intention.  We all knew why we were there.

As the second and third mile passed, I encouraged Christian to slow his breathing, to ease the force of his stride and to widen his gait.  I don’t know if any of that made any difference because he was so singularly focused on his mission – not to stop.  As we turned the last corner for the final stretch, the announcer’s words echoed through the pines that lined the road. “You’re almost there! See the school bus, 100 yards past it is the finish line, finish strong,” he said.

As the bus got closer, Christian knew he’d achieve his goal. I knew that the whispers, as always, had revealed the lesson to be learned in the moment.  For that, I was grateful.  The last 100 yards was lined with spectators and runners and volunteers.  Every now and then, a smattering of applause and cheers would make its way around the crowd to give that last bit of energy for the runners to finish strong. 

I grabbed Christian’s hand and I held it up high.  I wanted to finish together and I wanted to acknowledge the moment in victory and achievement. Just then, the crowd saw our hands raised to the sky, entwined.  A loud cheer erupted for Christian and me. He smiled at me and in a perfectly Christian Richard moment, he said, “Carry me!”  We laughed!

The official clock caught my eye to the left of the finish line. It read 29:34. I pulled Christian’s arm and said, “We have to beat 30!” We didn’t really have to, but it sounded like fun. He reached inside and matched my pace. As we approached the finish line, a race official was telling the runners to form a single file line so the bib numbers could be recorded for the finish results. I released his hand and pushed Christian hard in the back so he would cross the line just in front of me. When we finished, he said, “Dad, you didn’t have to do that, I struggled and you did well, you should have finished in front of me.” I said, “Christian, I am so proud of you, and I want you to know that no matter what you do, I will always be there to give you a little push if you need it, you are never alone.” His smile said it all. The clock read 29:52.

I wanted to wonder around and bump into Christie, but I could not find her. After a few moments, Christian and I headed back to the car.  It had been a great race. 

Jeffrey Coombs

I love how the universe of Angels that populate my world weave their message through a series of seemingly unrelated events.  A whisper had changed my day and had forever connected a new feeling to my soul. A mission had given Christian the motivation to run through the pain, and despite no preparation, finish strong.  And the two lessons together combined to fuel a bright and beautiful flame of truth, a poignant lesson born in the mind of a 16 year old and etched in his ever rapidly emergent works of perfectly subtle wisdom. That lesson was simple yet profound, as the most memorable lessons in life sometimes are, that as the clouds of sorrow, despair and uncertainty form as they did on September 11, 2001 when Jeff Coombs left this Earth on the “breathless beat of Angel’s wings,” we must not stop, we must continue on our mission – to finish strong, just like Christian did.

Opus

SCRAMBLED

JOHN PAUL II

GENERAL AUDIENCE

Wednesday 12 September 2001

I cannot begin this audience without expressing my profound sorrow at the terrorist attacks which yesterday brought death and destruction to America, causing thousands of victims and injuring countless people. To the President of the United States and to all American citizens I express my heartfelt sorrow. In the face of such unspeakable horror we cannot but be deeply disturbed. I add my voice to all the voices raised in these hours to express indignant condemnation, and I strongly reiterate that the ways of violence will never lead to genuine solutions to humanity’s problems.

Yesterday was a dark day in the history of humanity, a terrible affront to human dignity. After receiving the news, I followed with intense concern the developing situation, with heartfelt prayers to the Lord. How is it possible to commit acts of such savage cruelty? The human heart has depths from which schemes of unheard-of ferocity sometimes emerge, capable of destroying in a moment the normal daily life of a people. But faith comes to our aid at these times when words seem to fail. Christ’s word is the only one that can give a response to the questions which trouble our spirit. Even if the forces of darkness appear to prevail, those who believe in God know that evil and death do not have the final say. Christian hope is based on this truth; at this time our prayerful trust draws strength from it.

With deeply felt sympathy I address myself to the beloved people of the United States in this moment of distress and consternation, when the courage of so many men and women of good will is being sorely tested. In a special way I reach out to the families of the dead and the injured, and assure them of my spiritual closeness. I entrust to the mercy of the Most High the helpless victims of this tragedy, for whom I offered Mass this morning, invoking upon them eternal rest. May God give courage to the survivors; may he sustain the rescue-workers and the many volunteers who are presently making an enormous effort to cope with such an immense emergency. I ask you, dear brothers and sisters, to join me in prayer for them. Let us beg the Lord that the spiral of hatred and violence will not prevail. May the Blessed Virgin, Mother of Mercy, fill the hearts of all with wise thoughts and peaceful intentions.

Today, my heartfelt sympathy is with the American people, subjected yesterday to inhuman terrorist attacks which have taken the lives of thousands of innocent human beings and caused unspeakable sorrow in the hearts of all men and women of good will. Yesterday was indeed a dark day in our history, an appalling offence against peace, a terrible assault against human dignity.

I invite you all to join me in commending the victims of this shocking tragedy to Almighty God’ s eternal love. Let us implore his comfort upon the injured, the families involved, all who are doing their utmost to rescue survivors and help those affected.

I ask God to grant the American people the strength and courage they need at this time of sorrow and trial.

Reflections on September 11, Ten Years Later

It’s hard to believe I am ten years older. Tuesday, September 11^th seems like yesterday, but then, I guess it always will for me.  In some ways, being completely true to the “never forget” I write in most of the books I sign, the “day” should always feel like it was yesterday.  I’ll spare you the “what has changed” discussion you will invariably be inundated with if you watch any of the heart-wrenching footage in the drive by media coverage this weekend.  I’d much rather focus on where I am now in the hopes that you are inspired to do the same. My life changed on 9/11. I am able to look at things with a different eye.  Some of that ability was forced upon me, like being given “unlimited unpaid vacation” by United Airlines (a furlough), and some I have grown to be able to do myself as a result of that day. No matter the method, the effect has been positive.

One thing I have been able to do is to slow the world down a bit, on demand, so I can take some time to appreciate the things that before 9/11 had just whizzed by me. I have grown to appreciate taking the time to look up into the sky just to watch the clouds, or stopping to help an old man find his car in the grocery store parking lot-and being given the gift of hearing his stories about World War II, and seeing past the words to the deeper meaning of every encounter I have.  I have accepted the “wingmen” around me and have come to depend on their kind words, works and deeds. Admittedly, in some ways I have retreated into a safe, yet slightly darker and more lonely reality for survival. It is more of necessity than desire to be in this place. But there, I can take the time I need to reflect and learn. I can let things bounce off my soul to really experience them, work through them, and get to a place of peace on the other side. It is a skill I am not sure I understood fully, or at least appreciated enough before ten years ago. So as you think about where you are, ten years later, really take some time, indulge yourself, think, and reflect. I promise it will do your soul good, and you will be surprised what you hear in quiet reflection. I was ten years younger on Tuesday, September 11, 2001 than I am right now, but in terms of my spiritual growth and capacity to live, I am much richer with these ten years past. 

Slow down your mid-week scramble everyone, and on Sunday, September 11, 2011, take a second to look into the sky, just to see the clouds rolling by and listen to what they are telling you.

“Opus”

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