I Bet They Play Wiffle Ball Now In Heaven

Some people leave a mark on you long after they’re gone.

Juan Chesson was one of those people.

He was the kind of person everybody liked.

Good athlete.

Good student.

Good friend.

Growing up, Juan spent countless hours playing wiffle ball, basketball, and football with his younger brother Harold and neighborhood friends.

Later he played high school football and baseball.

He always seemed to win the sportsmanship awards too.

As an adult, he became an avid runner.

Even during holiday basketball games years later, nobody wanted to guard him because he was still in such great shape.

Juan graduated from North Carolina State University with a mathematics degree and eventually became a high school teacher and baseball coach in Asheville.

He was building a meaningful life.

Making a difference for young people.

Then came the leukemia diagnosis.

At first, treatment seemed to work.

The leukemia went into remission and everyone felt hopeful again.

But eventually it came back.

This time stronger.

Juan passed away in the fall of 1999.

He was only thirty-two years old.

His wife was eight months pregnant.

His death stayed with me.

It forced me to think more deeply about health, life, and how quickly everything can change.

Because if something like that could happen to Juan, it could happen to anybody.

Every now and then, I still think about my friend.

I bet they play wiffle ball now in heaven.

All because of Juan.