Carried forward | WORLD
Logo
Sound journalism, grounded in facts and Biblical truth | Donate

Carried forward

0:00

WORLD Radio - Carried forward

What began as a father pushing his son through a race they weren’t allowed to enter became a decades-long Boston Marathon tradition—one that continues today through the runners they inspired. Jenny Rough traces that legacy for the WORLD History Book.


Editor's note: The following text is a transcript of a podcast story. To listen to the story, click on the arrow beneath the headline above.

MARY REICHARD, HOST: Good morning! This is The World and Everything in It from listener-supported WORLD Radio. I’m Mary Reichard.

NICK EICHER, HOST: And I’m Nick Eicher.

Up next: The World History Book.

It’s the third Monday in April, and that means Boston Marathon day. It’s an event amateur runners aspire to, training for months or years to meet the strict qualifying standards for the 26.2 mile race. Some make multiple attempts before getting into it.

One family name has inspired runners and spectators every year. But back when the family first wanted to race, Boston said no.

WORLD’s Jenny Rough has the story.

AUDIO: [Crowds cheering]

JENNY ROUGH: Between mile 12 and 13 at the Boston Marathon, Troy Hoyt knows what to expect.

TROY HOYT: You can hear it from like a half a mile away. It’s the craziest thing ever. Every year, I’m like, what is that? Oh, yeah, it’s the Scream Tunnel.

The Wellesley Scream Tunnel. The college is near the marathon’s halfway point. Audio from Wellesley Public Media.

AUDIO: [Crowds cheering]

God willing, Troy will finish his sixth Boston Marathon today—carrying on generations of family tradition.

TROY: My grandfather was Dick Hoyt, and my uncle was Rick Hoyt. Now I am currently the race director for Team Hoyt and I’m running for the Hoyt Foundation.

His grandfather, Dick, and his grandmother, Judy, welcomed their first child, Rick, into the world in 1962. But during delivery, the umbilical cord wrapped around their baby boy’s neck. Doctors told the parents to save themselves the heartache and institutionalize him.

Rick’s brother Russ—the couple’s third son—said his parents stood firm:

RUSS: My mother and father obviously said, no way, brought Rick home, and said we are going to raise him.

The Hoyts quickly realized how difficult it would be. The brain damage caused cerebral palsy.

RUSS: And so when they brought him home, they found he couldn’t even nurse. They literally had to put milk in an eyedropper and feed him a drop at a time.

Rick could not speak, either. But the Hoyts could tell he was intelligent.

As the Hoyts’ three sons grew up, Rick’s younger brothers figured out ways to communicate with him using the alphabet. If he nodded at L—

RUSS: And then if he spelled E-T. Let me, you know he could say things like let me play if we were going to go outside and play.

Eventually, a computer gave Rick a way to communicate more directly. The family eagerly anticipated Rick’s first message.

RUSS: Mom thought it was going to be I love you, Mom. Dad thought it was going to be Hi, Dad. It was the early 70s and the Boston Bruins were going for the Stanley Cup. First words Rick ever wrote were Go Bruins!

Rick loved sports. And school. He asked if he could attend like his brothers. The Hoyts had adopted a family motto: Yes, you can. So, he did. Rick’s gym teacher told Rick about a 5-mile road race to raise money for a paralyzed athlete. At home on his computer, Rick wrote: Dad, can I run this race? His dad was not a runner. But again, the three famous words: Yes, you can. His dad pushed Rick the whole way.

RUSS: Dad and Rick went out and they ran their first race together. At the time, the only wheelchair Rick had was a Mulholland, which basically it’s like pushing a shopping cart complete with that one bad wheel that wobbles.

The duo came in second to last. Dick had soreness in muscles he didn’t even know existed. He assumed their first race would also be their last. But back home, Rick typed out another message. Here’s Rick, speaking through his computer, and his dad, in an interview with CBS Boston:

RICK: I wrote, Dad when we are running, my disability seems to disappear.

DICK: When we’re out there running, Rick is the athlete, and I’m just out there loaning him my arms and legs so he is able to compete.

Dick Hoyt became a competitive runner so he could continue to push Rick. Engineers built the duo an aerodynamic wheelchair. They mostly ran 5Ks and 10Ks. Then, in 1980, Rick said he wanted to run the Boston Marathon. It had a wheelchair division, but that was for athletes who could push themselves. Race coordinators told the Hoyts a dad pushing a son did not fit any of their categories.

So the duo ran the course unofficially for two years, then went back to the B-A-A, Boston Athletic Association, and asked, again, to officially enter.

RUSS: Finally, the B.A.A. said, look, if you can qualify, then we’ll put you in. My dad at this time was in his early 40s. And he said, okay, so what’s the qualifying time for 40 to 45? And they said, no, if you’re going to run with your son, you have to qualify at his age. And Rick is 18.

They trained and qualified. In 1983, they could finally run with official bib numbers.

For decades, they raced Boston together. In 1989, the Hoyt family established a foundation. Eventually, Dick and Rick got into triathlons, too. Even the Ironman in Hawaii.

They biked and ran across America.

But the Boston Marathon was always Rick’s favorite. Dick planned to retire after the 2013 race. But they never completed the course. Two bombs detonated at the finish line.

RUSS: They made a decision right there in that moment, no, we’re coming back next year. Nobody’s keeping us off the Boston course. So 2014 was actually their 32nd and last year running the Boston Marathon together.

In 2021, Dick Hoyt died at 80. Two years later, Rick died from multiple bouts of pneumonia.

But Team Hoyt lives on.

Today, more than 20 runners pledged to race Boston as part of it. To earn a bib for the charity team, runners have to raise $13,000. That money goes to individuals with disabilities to participate in all sorts of activities, not just sports, and not just running.

Troy Hoyt, Rick’s nephew, says he plans to take in the experience this year. And even better than general cheers from the Wellesley Scream Tunnel? Hearing the names of his grandfather and uncle:

TROY: It’s legitimately every mile. Someone’s screaming out: Go Team Hoyt! Dick and Rick Hoyt! Let’s go! It’s definitely rewarding for sure.

That’s this week’s WORLD History Book, I’m Jenny Rough.


WORLD Radio transcripts are created on a rush deadline. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of WORLD Radio programming is the audio record.

COMMENT BELOW

Please wait while we load the latest comments...

Comments