I rarely read, except for T-shirts and tattoos

Run for Dad - I’m a writer more than a reader, yet I read T-shirts and tattoos. The subjects are moving as I focus on torsos and bib numbers. Five thousand photos pared down to 15 albums of 100 runners taken last Saturday for the Rehoboth full and half-marathons. I received an email from a young woman, Cassidy Fox, who couldn’t find her photo. She gave me her bib number and described her T-shirt “Run for Dad.” She remembered me along the trail and, amazingly, I remembered her as the smile above the message. I knew it was a story I should chase. Luckily, it chased me, and I found the photo in focus, and Cassidy and I connected. She wrote, “I am an athletic trainer in a few public middle schools in northern Virginia. I love helping other people feel better physically, mentally and emotionally, and I love the world of sports – this gives me the opportunity to do both. I think I’d ultimately love to live at the beach, but for now Virginia is where I call home.” Cassidy shared a detailed story about her father's battle with cancer and her subsequent grief. She wrote, “My dad went to Potomac High School and the University of Mary Washington, where he met my mom – both in Virginia. I always imagine how different it must feel to my mom without him. I lost my dad, my superhero, but she lost the love of her life, best friend and father of her children. When I take a step back and imagine her perspective, I am always blown away at her strength.” Cassidy lost her dad Pete when she was 21. Her younger sister Mackenzie was 17 and older brother Brady was 24. Cassidy shared a long story of her family's  journey. I read and heard it in an active voice (whatever that is). A friend recently asked me in jest, “Do you ever get tired of being around runners?” Without getting sappy like a December pine tree supporting the banners of Flag Alley along the Junction & Breakwater Trail, runners and their stories take me to the House of Spirits, a world of magical realism where we all, including our dogs, live in the eternal present. 

Tardius obesius - I read the shirt on Bib 854, and having taken Latin in Catholic school, I knew it meant “slow fat guy.” He is a Simpsons character, “Obeseus the Wide,” a satirical version of Homer Simpson. The runner is Jorge Roca of Cumming, Ga., who ran a 3:47:49 marathon for 231st place out of 594 finishers and 30th out of 71 in the male 35-39 age group. The big guy ain’t no joke.

Tear the house down - Temple University’s South Hall at Broad and Columbia had a top-floor gym three flights up. It’s been torn down and is now Morgan Hall, a student dorm. But where are the memories in this House of Spirits? Temple basketball lost a December game at Kentucky in 1958 when Vern Hatton hit a half-court shot at the buzzer to send the game to triple overtime. Later, Kentucky beat Temple 61-60 in the semifinals of the NCAA tournament. The Wildcats went on to win the title under Adolf Rupp. Hatton was quoted as saying, “Six years after playing for Rupp, I actually started to like him.” Temple had Guy Rodgers and Hal Lear on that team. The legend goes that when Temple got back to campus, coach Harry Litwack brought the starting players to the South Hall gym floor and told them to go stand where they were when Hatton hit his shot. Harry walked out to the dead zone between the top of the key and half court and told the manager to throw him the ball. “The Chief” took a two-handed shot and hit nothing but net, saying, “Anyone can shoot if left unguarded.” Litwack died in 1999 at the age of 91. But that story and his legend endures.

Flag Alley - Rows of colorful flags are draped over the Junction & Breakwater Trail before the turn-back point near Wolfe Neck Road. Along with music, the names of runners are announced, making the event extra special. I used to hang at the finish chute on a dumb, old black-top road where runners were wrapped in aluminum foil upon finishing, but I prefer Flag Alley. Plus, I know all the Surfgimp characters that make it happen. There is no official membership count for Surfgimp, as Surfgimp has always been more of a community than a club. Team Surfgimp started small and grew into a tight family, and today, the foundation’s reach includes supporters, volunteers, athletes, families and grant recipients locally and around the world. Thirty-four registered charity runners raised $30,000 for the Surfgimp Foundation. Since 2017, the year founder Jay Liesener died, the organization has raised more than $500,000. Brad Dennehy writes, “Flag Alley started on a whim. Before there was a foundation, a couple of Surfgimp members thought it would be a good idea to go support the marathon runners and hang one flag up on the trail and cheer runners on. The response was immediately positive. Each year, we kept coming back with an additional flag. When our friend Jay died, we approached Mary Beth [Evans], the race organizer, and asked, ‘What do you think about a flag alley with all 50 states represented?’ This was met with an overwhelming yes! Over the years, it just keeps gaining more and more momentum, and all the runners seem to love this part of the race. There is a poetic justice that our friend, a local adaptive surfer, now lives on in a foundation. To see people running, and to see the Surfgimp Foundation runners raising money to help other adaptive surfers and athletes achieve their dreams, that's what this race means to us. Jay would have loved this."

Snippets - I have a great idea. Play a Cape boys’ basketball home game using the Milton gym and invite players from the 1975-76 team to be honored at halftime. I’d pick the Sussex Central game set for Friday, Feb. 13. All tickets in advance. I’ve been taking photos for fun at Fred Thomas Middle School basketball games. People who were my current age (79) when I was 13 years old would now be 141, which is the strangest route in all of Delaware. Go on now, git!