(Photo credit: Baseball Seams Co.)
I loved writing Miles’s story for America at the Seams. He and his dad, Clayton, and the Omaha Storm Chasers represented the state of Nebraska with a tale of courageous hope. Miles was diagnosed with Stage IV neuroblastoma at the age of 2. The Storm Chasers held a Super Miles night with beautiful jerseys, raising money to help the family through the trying times.
(Photo Credit: Omaha Storm Chasers)
I am grateful for social media that allows me to follow along with updates and pictures of all of my America at the Seams friends. But now I write with a heavy heart.
Miles took his last breath yesterday.
Lord, have mercy on the Mortensen family.
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Established in 1964, The Arc of the Ozarks works with individuals with disabilities and helps them finds their place as contributing members in the community. There was a barbecue and carwash at my church today for workers of the Arc. Curtis (Day #46) invited me to stop by and guaranteed there would be people and stories in abundance.
“Working at The Arc teaches patience,” multiple people said. In our instant everything culture of always faster, always now, patience is an often forgotten virtue.
Jamil (not pictured) and Christopher and Harvey and Scott all played catch with me in the parking lot, carefully avoiding the newly-washed vehicles. One ball escaped and rolled through a puddle of water. If Nate can used waterlogged baseballs to make good art, surely I can keep playing catch with them. At least until the seams start to rip off. Even though I have a glove for southpaws in the van, Scott was fine throwing with his non-dominant hand. I tried a couple throws as a lefty; they were just a little better than a 50 Cent first pitch.
One of the workers asked if I brought my bat.
“You can throw me some pitches. I’d love to take some swings.”
Thankfully, my bat was at home.
“Maybe next time. At a field. Away from any and all windows.”
