Copyright
COMPANIONS IN COURAGE Copyright © 2001 by Pat LaFontaine. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Warner Books,
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue
New York, NY 10017
ISBN: 978-0-7595-2051-6
A hardcover edition of this book was published in 2001 by Warner Books.
First eBook Edition: January 2001
Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com.
To the children who have fought and are fighting battles for life and health. May your bravery and courageous spirit be an inspiration to others as they have been to me.
Acknowledgments
To my companions who are no longer with us. Thank you for your courage, inspiration, and friendship.
With love and gratitude to my personal companions in life:
My best friend and wife, Marybeth.
My hat trick of inspiration, Sarah, Brianna, and Daniel.
Thank you for your love and support.
Sincere thanks to the LaFontaine and Hoey families and to the dear friends in the communities where I lived and played. A special thank you to Donnie Meehan and Marianne “Mokey” McCarthy.
To Fred, the golden retriever we had and loved for ten years. Dog lovers everywhere will understand how we miss him.
To my literary companions:
This book could not have been written without the tremendous commitment and support of a great group of people. Heartfelt thanks to my friends Chas Griffin and Dr. Ernie Valutis for your research, writing, and guidance. And many thanks to Rick Wolff, Larry Weisman, and Dan Ambrosio for pulling the whole project together.
To Michael J. Fox, a true gentleman in every sense of the word. Special thanks for bringing your courageous spirit to this book.
I would also like to recognize the contributions of John LaFontaine Sr., Arthur Pincus, Jim Johnson, Laurie Widzinski, John Rufer, Alan Kaufman, Warner Books, Inc., Newport Sports Management, Inc., and the National Hockey League Inc. and NHL Players’ Association and their Hockey’s All-Star Kids program.
Genuine appreciation to those professionals who helped keep my mind and body together during some tough times: Dr. James Kelly, Dr. Jeffrey Minkoff, Dr. Ronald Petersen, Dr. Ernie Valutis, Steve Wirth, Chris Reichart, Kevin Cichocki, and Vladimir Anoufriev.
To each of the organizations I was associated with—New York Islanders, Buffalo Sabres, New York Rangers, TEAM USA, and Verdun Juniors—and the teammates, coaches, trainers, and the many great fans.
To those athletes who have a passion for their sport as well as for helping those in need.
To all the unknown stories of courage and spirit that have yet to be told.
Pat LaFontaine
October 2000
Contents
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Foreword
Preface
SECTION 1: My Story
1: My Story
2: Beneath the Ice
3: The Evolution of Companions in Courage
4: The Dreams of Youth
SECTION 2: A Mother’s Love
5: Dawn Anna
6: Joey Simonick
7: Chris Zorich
8: Nick Watroba
9: Alison Pierce and Family
SECTION 3: A Father’s Strength
10: Rich Morton
11: Rick and Dick Hoyt
12: Amp Campbell
13: Joetta Clark Diggs
14: Derek Stingley
SECTION 4: Pride and Prejudice
15: Notah Begay III
16: Willie O’Ree
17: Esteban Toledo
18: Ted Nolan
SECTION 5: The Fight of Their Lives
19: Erik Fanara
20: Aaron Graves
21: Kathy Waldo
22: John Cullen
23: Jimmie Heuga
24: Annie Leight
25: Travis Roy
26: Simon Keith
27: Karen Smyers
28: Tom Dolan
29: Monica Weidenbach
SECTION 6: Standing Tall
30: Aimee Mullins
31: Sam Paneno
32: Diane Golden
33: Zoe Koplowitz
34: Haley Scott
35: Paul Binnebose
36: Sarah Reinertsen
37: Ronan Tynan
SECTION 7: Defying the Odds
38: Vladimir Konstantinov and the Detroit Red Wings
39: Super Mario, Super Stars, Super People
40: Gail Devers
41: Jon Brianas
42: Jim Morris
43: Michelle Akers
44: Jamie McLennan
SECTION 8: Escaping the Darkness
45: Seymour Knox
46: Cam Neely
47: David Duval
48: Julie Krone
49: Travis Williams
50: Hank Kuehne
SECTION 9: Senses and Sensitivity
51: Kevin Hall
52: Marla Runyan
53: Jamel Bradley
54: Donnell Finnaman
SECTION 10: From the Heart
55: Brian Grant
56: Jeannette Jay
57: Jerry Sandusky
58: Peter Westbrook
59: Steve Beuerlein
60: Esther Kim
Conclusion
About the Author
Foreword
I’ve known Pat LaFontaine for a long time. Like most hockey fans (and most of you know by now that I’ve been an avid hockey player and fan all my life) I admired Pat for his remarkable abilities on the ice—he always knew how to put the puck in the net or how to spot a teammate and feed him a perfect pass. But as much as I admired Pat for his athletic abilities, it wasn’t until we had a chance to work together on an episode of Spin City that I truly became impressed with Pat LaFontaine the human being.
We had asked Pat to make a cameo appearance on the show, and during the course of the shooting there was a scene in which we had to skate on the ice together. Now this was a time when Pat was recuperating from a serious head concussion and I remember thinking to myself, “Please, God, whatever I do, please don’t let me accidentally knock him down!” Fortunately, my skating skills held up and Pat finished the scene with me flawlessly and, most importantly, not injured.
But it was during this time that I had a chance to get to know Pat LaFontaine well, and it was quickly apparent to me that this was a man who wanted to give a lot more to this world than just goals and assists. Pat is one of those unique people who just flat out cares about other people, and in today’s world of selfish, highly egocentric “What’s-in-it-for-me?” professional athletes, Pat is truly a breath of fresh air.
Up to that point, I had always followed his career. But then I really focused on Pat when he was with the New York Rangers. And when he was finally forced to retire after suffering from another collision on the ice, I sat down and wrote a heartfelt note to him.
I remember the letter quite well, because it was meant to praise Pat and to urge him to keep going in life, no matter what kinds of obstacles are thrown in his way. But in truth—and what only I knew at the time—I was really writing about my own battle with Parkinson’s and, in effect, was trying to affirm my own beliefs in my competitive spirit to keep going. Pat’s decision to retire and move on with his life was virtually setting the st
age for my own upcoming personal battle.
That’s why the people in this book and their stories mean so much to me. For the most part, these are not athletes whom you have heard of or athletes who have made fortunes from playing sports. Rather, these are rare individuals who have refused to call it quits—even when everybody else has already written them off. To me, these athletes are the real champions in sports, and they deserve all the encouragement we can muster.
Let me tell you a secret: I can’t type. And no, it’s not because of the Parkinson’s. The truth is, I just can’t type. Never learned how when I was a kid. So to get around this problem, I have a voice-activated computer that responds to my verbal instructions and then instantly prints my words on the computer screen. When I sat down to write this foreword, the first words that I uttered were “Companions in Courage.”
When I looked at the screen, the computer printed the following:
“Companions … Encourage.”
And I thought to myself, “What a most appropriate rewrite!”
You see, it’s my experience in life that there are people who worry about getting the job done, and then there are those who just put the worries aside and get the job done. This book, Companions in Courage, focuses squarely on those athletes who just get it done.
In short, they represent the very best when it comes to the spirit of true athletic competition. Thank you, Pat LaFontaine, for sharing their stories with us all.
Michael J. Fox
October 2000
Preface
We all live within a story. Our lives unfold as we experience each day, as we deal with what life serves. I am learning how to handle life’s setbacks, those challenges that push us all beyond our limits and beneath the surface of life.
When my world as a professional athlete began to fall apart, I did not have the tools to deal effectively with what was happening to me. But as I started to listen to my circumstances, I began to learn from them. In the process I found a place of understanding and healing, a place where I could become a friend to myself and to others.
I discovered that there is a creative flow and rhythm that exists beneath the surface reality of life. Before my setbacks got my attention, the only freedom and flow I understood was on the surface of the ice as a professional athlete. Ironically, that other place beneath the ice was what I had always avoided—it seemed that the only way to get there was through my pain. I began to realize that I don’t have to be defined by what happens to me, that I can learn to manage my circumstances instead of being controlled by them.
My Companions in Courage have taught me important lessons. I’ve come to understand that courage comes in many forms. I’ve seen small children fighting for their lives against cancer. I know teenagers and grown-ups who have survived all manner of disease and affliction and fought their wars with dignity. I know those who have felt and conquered the sting of racism and prejudice.
I want to share these lessons in the hope that this book will be your companion, that it will help you find that safe place beneath the surface of your life so that you can become your own friend and cultivate the courage it takes to manage life’s twists and turns.
No, it’s not easy. There’s a complexity to the textures of the pattern of your life. For me, working with challenged children in hospital wards, tasting fame and fortune, feeling the helpless grief of tragedy, and knowing life’s joys and sorrows make for a depth I can only hope to understand.
These experiences have taught me that we are all companions who are learning to be courageous, learning to transcend life’s harsh moments in order to write our own story. I believe that what happens to each of us—what pushes us past normal existence—is what helps us find the positive, limitless purity that makes each of us who we are. Learning to bring the two sides of life together helps us open a creative personal rhythm that gives meaning and purpose to whatever life lays before us.
Each person who has crossed my path or whose story has come to my attention possesses a beauty and strength that has been a gift to me. Each is a spontaneous example of our life force in motion. This book will share my story, the stories of other athletes, and the powerful lessons we can all learn from.
These people have become my Companions in Courage, and they’re the heart of this book. Some enjoy fame and popularity and wide acclaim, in stadiums and arenas and on television. Others will come to you as strangers but will become friends, mentors, guides. Their acts of personal courage occur in the toughest arena of all—everyday life. Often, we see only the achievements, not the difficulties faced and overcome in their pursuit. In Companions in Courage I will tell those stories because these folks figure so deeply in my relationship with life’s daily issues.
I want you to feel the inspiration and admiration I did, to grab on to that uplifting strength and dignity and turn its power inward. I want adults and children who face challenges and obstacles in their hectic existences to know they’re not alone, that others have also fought battles (and worse) and showed they can be won.
These stories speak to the power of the spirit, the soul, the mind, and the heart.
Pat LaFontaine
July 2000
SECTION 1
My
Story
1
My Story
Injuries are part of a professional hockey player’s life. I’ve had several major injuries and many minor ones, but the one that changed my life happened in October 1996 when I was playing with the Buffalo Sabres. It was a major concussion that forced my family and me to put hockey, life, and what really matters into sharper focus.
The game against the Pittsburgh Penguins had barely begun. Skating across the middle of the ice, I was blind-sided by a forearm to the head. This shot knocked me out immediately. I flew into the air, lost my helmet, and hit my forehead on the ice. The player who hit me was like a freight train—six foot six, 235 pounds. The only part of my body he hit was my head, but I suffered a second blow when I landed on it.
Here’s what my wife, Marybeth, remembers: “The kids and I stayed home that night to watch Pat play. Our six-year-old daughter, Sarah, yelled out, ‘Mom, come quick!’ I ran to the door of the family room and what I saw froze my heart with fear. Pat was lying facedown on the ice; his body was circling counterclockwise very slowly. I hurried to the phone to call the Marine Midland Arena to check on my husband and was told that he was okay. They said he had a concussion and would probably be back on the ice in two weeks. I had a premonition that the next few weeks, perhaps months, would not be that simple.”
I struggled daily against the impact this injury had on my life. An early-childhood memory of falling through the ice and almost drowning kept reoccurring. I grew frantic. I kept grabbing for a “strong piece of ice” and it kept breaking around me. I went under but the water’s buoyancy brought me back up. I thought I was going to die. I kept yelling and grabbing, and the ice kept breaking.
And that’s the way the next few months unfolded, a nightmare filled with demons and terror. My emotional and spiritual struggles challenged me more than any body-rattling check I had ever received, and our family faced its most severe test.
This concussion left me emotionally drained. My confidence, my courage, and my will to persevere diminished. At times I doubted that I would ever recover. Marybeth had never seen me so depressed, and, on some days, so listless. I could see the fear in her eyes as she watched me flailing, trying to find my balance. The image of me circling, face-down on the ice, haunted her.
The last thing I remember about that injury was waking up. I had been conscious for a good half hour but nothing registered. My conversations with the trainer and my teammates did not stay in my memory. I was in a strange world within myself. I wasn’t making sense, and I couldn’t make sense out of what had happened to me. I was in our locker room in the lounge area, watching the TV, with my equipment on, disoriented and wondering how I got there. I was wondering why I was in the lounge while a game was
going on. Our trainer, Rip Simonick, came into the room because he heard someone talking, but I was the only one in there. He told me that I wasn’t making sense.
At that point our team doctor began asking me questions. I started coming to some awareness of what had happened, realizing the medical team would not let me go back on the ice. As I look back today, I have a much greater understanding of the devastating effects of a grade-three concussion.
I saw the neurologist the next day and went through an MRI. The tests were negative, and the docs cleared me to go back and skate just four days after the concussion. Still feeling somewhat groggy and less than 100 percent, I worked hard to convince myself that this concussion wasn’t as bad as my previous ones.
Just a week later, I played against Montreal. I remember skating during the warmup and seeing stars and beams of little light particles and feeling tentative. I wasn’t myself. I felt very strange and scared and wondered out loud to myself what I was doing out there.
The doctors said I was fine and that I should be able to play. I had been taught that to be a successful hockey player I had to overcome, move forward, and push through the pain. My body was obviously giving me small hints that something wasn’t right; however, I was determined to make it right. I was going to push through it and eventually everything would be okay. That’s the way it always was for me.
But not this time. Something was wrong, seriously wrong. People were coming up to me and saying, “You know, you look really pale. Is everything okay?” According to my family, I was acting very differently. I still had a constant headache. I continued to be in serious denial, telling myself that I was fine and I would feel better soon if I just pushed through these headaches. I even went so far as to tell myself that this was nothing but a fear of getting hit again.
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