I met Tammi Carr once, briefly, at a fund raiser, before Chad was born. She was warm and engaging, the sort of person who makes you feel better about yourself for the interaction.
I have known Lloyd Carr for more than 10 years. He breaks all stereotypes. Coach Carr is passionate about passion. He is more interested in his former players, their lives, than what they accomplished on the field. He is more interested in literature than sports; more interested in ideas and the obstacles that others have overcome than his own achievements. The coach has helped me in ways that he does not acknowledge or, perhaps, even understand, but I will be grateful until my last breath for what he has done for me. And, as time has proven, between the interests of Michigan and his own personal interests, he will choose and has chosen Michigan. I have never been a believer in the notion of a “Michigan Man.” The construct seems both too limited and too broad. But, if there is such a thing, I think Coach Carr embodies it as much as any person I know.
I never met Chad Carr though I feel as if I have, and I think many who have posted here feel the same way. I know he was handsome and tough and lived for longer than any of his doctors projected or thought possible. More than this, I think Chad has given all of us the gift of his struggle, the gift of allowing us the opportunity to be empathic and to care about him. And, perhaps, to be caring about others, even those we don’t know. I am crying while I write this, was crying while I read Seth’s lovely note and the passionate and thoughtful notes of others on this board. I don’t want to leave it for today; for only today, that is. I want his passing to help me to be more forgiving, to be more thoughtful and generous towards others. Maybe, Chad’s life, and our response to his tragedy, can make us all better and that’s a legacy of monument.