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The announcer began listing the finishers; “Ingalls, Ingalls, Ingalls…” The streak continued for several minutes. The audience chuckled, it appeared as if the race had been an excuse for a family reunion. It was no coincidence that led the Ingalls family to dominate the roster of the small triathlon in rural New Hampshire. They crowded in front of the finish line for a photo. The group stood united, spanning 3 generations, each sporting a pale blue t-shirt with a crackled iron-on that read “we run for Dave”. For the majority of the group, this was not only their first race, but also the first time they had been gathered en masse in over a decade.
Only a few days prior, on a sunny August day, Stephen had brought his family to the York zoo. It wasn’t long after passing through the front gates that his phone rang. Surely it can wait, he thought, and put the phone back into his pocket. The phone rang again, but this time he answered. The voice he was met with was panicked and emotional, it was his mother. Stephen clung to a few words at a time; uncle Dave, plane, investigation, crash. Stephen froze in his tracks, his family watched and waited, caught off guard by the sudden and sharp shift in mood. Within hours Stephen was southbound, towards his parents’ cottage where the rest of the family would gather over the next few days.
After years of separation, one call is all it took to bring Stephen, his siblings, and cousins all together. The funeral came and went, and the entire town of Kingston appeared to share the grief the Ingalls family carried. David had dedicated his life to the town, the lake, and to the community. He provided land for his brother to live on, and maintained a set of cottages for his children and the rest of the family to use as they visited. For the first time, these cottages were full, and the community was alive. David, even in his old age, had dedicated a significant amount of his time volunteering at the local YMCA camp, clearing trails and participating in their annual triathlon. It only felt appropriate that the Ingalls family should participate this year, to honor David and his dedication to his community.
[aesop_parallax img=”http://jolineblais.net/nmd343/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/26655_10151136091281305_1547104968_n-1.jpg” parallaxbg=”on” captionposition=”bottom-left” lightbox=”off” floater=”off” floaterposition=”left” floaterdirection=”none” overlay_revealfx=”off”]The night before the race a large BBQ was held on the lakeside. Stephen looked around, the beach was active and full of people, a sharp contrast to the abandoned site that stood there only days prior. Even now, David was bringing people together as a community and as a family. David’s widow, Muriel hauled a cardboard box down to the beach. Inside were about 20 T-shirts of various sizes, all pale blue, and all decorated with a simple iron-on. Uniforms were distributed, and the people trickled back to the cottages for the night.
[aesop_character img=”http://jolineblais.net/nmd343/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/14322343_1246514435370699_2769300007528330500_n.jpg” align=”right” force_circle=”off” revealfx=”off”]On the day of the event, the convoy descended on the small camp, filling half the lot. Some people participated as individuals, others in groups of three in a relay, more still watched from the sidelines. Three generations of the Ingalls family stood in the starting area, an impressive block of pale blue amongst the crowd. The race wasn’t easy for anyone, for many it was their first. The more active participants, like Stephen, were able to compete as individuals. Others broke the race down into a relay, with three members participating in their own event. Between the fatigue of traveling several hours the night before, a restless night, and nerves, Stephen felt sick to his stomach. He continued to push on however. He, like the others, wasn’t just running for himself, but for something bigger. Stephen rounded the final corner and cruised across the finish line, he could hear his family cheering “You got this Steve!”. After catching his breath, he returned to the finish line to cheer on the rest of the family. After a while, the final runner neared the finish, it was Muriel. By this point the whole family was gathered, cheering her on. This would be the first time she finished without David, and the whole family felt that weight in the air. The family paced alongside her as she neared the line.
When it came time for awards, the announcer called up finishers by age bracket. From 16 and under to 75 and over, the name Ingalls was called. While making for an impressive photo opportunity, none of the participants had run with winning in mind. They didn’t run for awards or bragging rights, they ran for family; they ran for David.
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