Showing love: Town helps keep man on track

GRANTSVILLE — Edward "Eddy" Hughes paused in his wheelchair at the entrance of the high school football stadium, worried he'd have to fight his way through a crowd.

Dozens of people stood along the black track that circled the football field.

Hughes planned to wheel the chair around the track Wednesday night, as he had every day for the past week, to build up strength for a chemotherapy treatment that began Thursday and culminates in a bone-marrow transplant on July 2, his 47th birthday. He has non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, or cancer of the lymphatic system.

As the theme from "Rocky" blared from speakers, the crowd on the track yelled, "Surprise!"

More than 100 well-wishers of all ages — including teenagers he had once coached in sports, ballroom-dancing, and math — had gathered to cheer him on. Most knew about the surprise rally through his wife Karyn's e-mail that quickly spread overnight.

Hughes' jaw dropped. He then ruefully massaged his bald head.

"I should have worn a hat!" he said to laughter.

Just seven months ago, Hughes sported a full head of hair and made a pretty good living in the computer industry. In December, doctors found a tumor as wide as a CD growing on the base of his spine. This is his third bout with cancer in six years. The first was a brain tumor; the second, stage three lymphoma. This time, radiation has not shrunk his tumor completely.

Despite constant, excruciating pain, he said, "I have learned so much through the hard times. I feel closer to my God."

He and his wife, whom he calls an "angel," have nine children, ages 2 to 24. Two years ago, after being told he would be sterile due to treatments, they had their "miracle baby" Ethan.

Living the past decade in Grantsville, he has made his kids "the center of his life." He coached or helped with their sports teams. When his daughter Sarah became more serious about performing, Hughes formed a ballroom-dance team and a Celtic-style singing group.

He also taught a free ballroom-dance class on Saturday mornings, drawing an average of 60 teens who usually hung out long past quitting time.

"Kids didn't come to my class to learn how to dance," Hughes said. "They wanted to belong. I wanted to give them confidence. I taught them about respect and honor."