Inside the Travis Roy Rink on Tabor Academy’s Marion campus, a black curtain was draped over a hockey net; on it, Travis Roy’s No. 14 along with a copy of the book “11 Seconds: A Story of Tragedy, Courage & Triumph” that Roy had written in 1998 with co-author E.M. Swift of Sports Illustrated.
Likewise, the seaside prepratory school’s flag will continue at half-staff through Thursday, November 5, according to Interim Headmaster Julie Salit.
“It didn’t matter if you knew him for 25 years or 25 minutes; you were touched by him,” said Salit. “As a trustee, absolutely, he impacted us. He was such a thoughtful, incredible person who lived a very meaningful life.”
Travis Roy, a 1995 Tabor Academy graduate, died on October 29 at age 45 due to complications from a procedure he underwent in Vermont intended to improve his life as a quadriplegic.
“There were things happening on Tuesday telling us that Travis was getting close,” said Dick Muther, former athletic director and assistant boys hockey coach at Tabor. “They’ve had such a long 25 years. He got tired, I think.”
A native of Yarmouth, Maine, Roy was a talented young hockey player whose life changed forever on October 20, 1995, only 11 seconds into his first shift as a member of the Boston University hockey team. Roy jumped from the bench and pursued the puck; his body glanced off an opponent, sending him crashing head-first into the boards in the corner of the Walter Brown Arena ice.
The injury, a complete separation of his fourth and fifth vertebrae, was chronicled in his 1998 autobiography published by Warner Books; but his legacy is his 25 years of response to the higher calling he received from the ashes of his own catastrophe.
“He was a gift. He was the best of the best. He left his mark wherever he went,” said Merry Conway, former communications director at Tabor, whose son Ian and Travis were “very best friends.”
In 1997, Roy founded the Travis Roy Foundation, which for the past 23 years has been a channel for the former skater’s competitive fire. The nonprofit has raised millions of dollars to benefit the survivors of spinal-cord injuries.
Paralysis and the dependence that accompanied it formed a life he detested everywhere he saw it, for himself and especially the many whose lives were changed by war on the other side of the world. To that end, Roy divided his fundraising efforts, with half going toward any measure of independence that nuts-and-bolts assistance and equipment could give the survivors of such injuries and the other half toward medical research, including stem cell.
Amidst his heroic response, Roy was a sought-after public speaker, at first because of his extraordinary story but later because of the effect his visits had wherever he went. He bared his soul and rarely, if ever, did a gifted athlete with so much potential tragically lost in an instant remain so lucid, so daring to emote, so willing to let others in to tell him their story, so present to all whom he had met. He confronted us with ourselves and made us want to be better.
“It took every excuse we ever had away. In his humble way, he humbled us all. Not making us feel guilty, but just making us realize (our potential),” said Muther. “I think of Travis and he’s somewhere off skating on a pond and his hair is flying.”
Connecting at first on the soccer field, Roy and Ian Conway walked into the Fish Center the same way at the end of the concourse and took opposite turns; Conway left to the squash courts and Roy right to the hockey rink that now bears his name. “Travis used to ask Ian, ‘How do you run after that little ball?’ Ian used to ask Travis, ‘How do you chase after that little puck?'” recalls Merry Conway.
Both went off to play their best sport in college. Ian Conway played squash at Trinity, where he won a national championship, and Roy played hockey for Jack Parker at BU. When Trinity’s squash team had a match in Boston, the coach had the bus driver drop Ian off at the hospital to spend time with his pal. They would later room together for a year in Boston.
“Friday was a very sad day, and then we started remembering all the fun stories,” said Merry, recalling the two taking their little Whaler out after school but never bringing back a fish. “Luckily, we’ll have those stories with us for a long time.”
Early fundraising efforts began with a golf tournament, then a partnership formed with St. Sebastian’s to play the annual Travis Roy Cup game.
“Tim Pratt and I were coaching Trav at the time in soccer, and I was fortunate enough to be his academic advisor,” said Muther. “There were a bunch of BU hockey players who went to St. Sebastian’s.”
The game was an annual opportunity for Roy to simultaneously connect with his BU and Tabor friends. His visits to the teams’ locker rooms were thought-provoking. “Why are we playing this game?” Muther remembered the message resonating with players. “It was a good reminder.”
“Dick Muther did such a great job because it was personal for him,” said Tabor boys varsity hockey coach Gerry Dineen. “The fundraising for the foundation – it really created a lot of buy-in. Then (the players) got to meet him. I think they really felt a deep connection with him.”
As years passed, Roy’s visits evolved from those who played with him to those who knew him, then those who knew of him, and finally those for whom it had become time for Roy to reintroduce himself. “I give credit to Gerry and those guys for all they have done to keep it going,” said Muther, now athletic director at St. Paul’s School in Concord, New Hampshire. “I don’t know if it’s going get played this year.”
The Travis Roy Cup game is in doubt for this winter because Tabor’s athletics program, as a member of the all-prep Independent School League, is on pause. Students participate in skills practice and intra-squad activities, but member schools have yet to play against each other in 2020-21.
Dineen, behind Tabor’s bench for the 20 years, will miss visiting with Roy.
“He’d come to a few games and we’d chat, and the conversation quickly morphed into, ‘Gerry, how are your kids, how are you doing, how are the guys, what’s the team like, what’s the chemistry like, what’s it like in the locker room?'” recalled Dineen. “He has a really, really high emotional intelligence. Three things: love, compassion, and family; those are the three things that I think about with Trav. I never got to coach him. The amount of alumni that have reached out to me in the last 24 hours is just remarkable. My phone’s just been blowing up.”
The 2020 version of the Travis Roy Whiffle Ball Tournament was a virtual event recorded on the foundation’s YouTube channel, but the 2021 edition plans to be back with a 32-team field at the original site that has expanded into three fields, including “Little Wrigley” and “Little Field of Dreams.” The tournament began in 2001 at “Little Fenway” on Pat O’Connor’s farm in Essex Junction, Vermont, in the Burlington area not far where Travis’ mother Brenda grew up.
“I remember him saying to me he didn’t want people to be uncomfortable around him,” said Merry Conway, marveling at how Roy engaged the participants in a manner that made them comfortable with him and with each other. “As a result of that, there is a whole group of people who engaged. He didn’t want anyone to be unhappy.”
Lasting friendships were made, and those who only met Roy once or twice were made to feel like they had known him their whole lives.
When Roy was engaged in his motivational speaking tour, he asked if Merry Conway would accompany him to Cape Cod for an insurance conference. Merry looked forward to the seafood, but said, “The best part of it was spending time with Travis.”
While Boston University retired Roy’s No. 24 hockey sweater, Tabor boys varsity hockey has managed to keep Roy’s No. 14 out of circulation.
According to Muther, longtime equipment manager Tom Walsh told him that the school does not retire numbers, but that didn’t mean they have to order a No. 14 sweater either. So, ever since Roy’s injury, the No. 14 only appears painted into the ice surface. Roy’s father Lee wore 14 at the University of Vermont, where he is an Athletic Hall of Famer.
“We have No. 14 by our bench. Travis and his jersey and his story greet the students at the Travis Roy Rink. When we walk recruits around, we tell the story. … It just means a bunch to the guys,” said Dineen.
Roy’s last investment in his alma mater will be a lasting one.
As chairman of the Tabor Experience, he worked closely with Salit, the staff liaison. They took on what the latter called “deep dives into school life,” discussing “ways to improve,” such as in the residential program with the Matsumura House, a new type of living and learning dormitory, and Cornelia Hall, the sister facility of Matsumura. The other was a deep dive into athletics and visual arts.
“Trav was excited to do the Visual Arts deep dive because, while at Tabor, he discovered he had a knack for ceramics and frequented the Braitmayer Art Center,” said Salit. “He certainly stayed connected to Tabor.”
Salit’s statement on behalf of Tabor invited friends to leave their memories and wishes for the Roy family at taboracademy.org/rememberingtravisroy and concluded, “Rest easy, dear Travis. You made it. With deepest sympathy to Brenda, Lee and Tobi.”
By Mick Colageo