As a family, we are so grateful for the Angel Fund and Harpoon for putting together such an amazing event in support of ALS research. This is something that has become a tradition for our family since 2021. Each year, we have family & friends travel to Boston to run the 5-miles in memory of our Dad, Jack McCarthy. This is an event he would have loved to be a part of - especially for the beer and laughs at the finish line and we know he is very proud of the community that continues to show up in support of families like ours.  

ALS is not a disease most people understand unless they have seen its impact firsthand. That’s why events like this matter to allow for awareness and fundraising for such a terrible disease. Seeing the outpouring of support year after year is truly incredible, and we hope to continue growing the reach and impact of this special day. Fundraising for ALS is vital because it funds the scientific discoveries and clinical trials needed to develop effective treatments and ultimately find a cure. This is our 5th year participating and fundraising for the Harpoon 5-Miler and Team McCarthy has been able to raise over $90,000 for the Angel Fund. We do it to fight for a world where no more families have to endure the pain, struggle, and heartbreak of ALS. Our participation in this race is also to honor the type of man our Dad was.

Jack grew up in Torrington, Connecticut, and met the love of his life, our Mom, Chris, at Bryant University. They graduated in 1990, married in 1993, and returned to Torrington, where our Dad worked in his family’s business, J&M Sales, a beer distributorship. Together, they built a life centered around family and raised four children. He was the kind of man who seemed to know everyone, remembered everything, and would go above and beyond without hesitation to help someone in need, often before they even had to ask. He loved telling stories, spending time with friends (especially on the golf course), rooting for Boston sports teams, and enjoying a good laugh. He was a talker, the kind of person who made everyone feel welcome and connected. While ALS takes so much from those it touches, it never took his voice. He continued to talk, to tell stories, and to welcome visitors whenever they stopped by. The sheer number of visitors he had speaks volumes about the kind of man he was.

Above all else, his greatest pride and joy was his family. When we were young, he showed up to every game, every practice, every milestone. He coached us when we were kids, and as we got older, he was in the bleachers for every high school and college game. Home or away, no distance was too far, if we were playing (or warming the bench), he was there. He was endlessly proud of how close we all were and never missed an opportunity to say so. Even during his illness, that pride never faded. When he was receiving home care, he loved showing the nurses how close three of his kids lived to one another in Boston, “all in a straight dotted line,” he would say with a smile. And we know he’s smiling even bigger now that the youngest has joined that dotted line in our Boston neighborhood after graduating college. Our closeness has always meant everything to him and when we were all together, we always had the best time.

He began experiencing symptoms in November 2019, starting in his left foot. After months of testing and appointments, he was diagnosed with ALS in March 2020, just as the world shut down due to Covid-19. In many ways, it was both a blessing and a curse. All of us were able to return home to Connecticut from Boston as our city jobs went remote, giving us precious time together as a family and allowing us to help with his care. His brother Michael, a pilot, was also able to spend meaningful time with us and help with his care. But the pandemic also meant clinical trials paused, physical therapy halted, and in-home care was difficult to find. His case progressed quickly, impacting his respiratory function early on.  Our family and friends did all we could to try to make him as comfortable as possible, but ALS has its way of reminding you constantly how cruel it can be. He battled with such strength but after an 18-month fight with ALS, we lost our Dad in September 2021 at the age of 53.

The Harpoon 5-Miler gives our family something powerful: a way to fight back. It allows us to rally friends and family, raise critical funds for research, and keep Dad’s spirit alive in a way that feels so true to him with community, laughter, and a beer at the finish line. Thank you to The Angel Fund, Harpoon Brewery, the Boston community, and every person working tirelessly to find a cure for ALS.