Friday afternoon, longtime Lewiston-Porter coach Gary Raby passed away after a prolonged battle with cancer. He is the third major coaching loss in New York State we've had this season. Several athletes have reached out with letters to their coach, and we've included them below. More can be read about his story here.
A Tribute to Coach Gary Raby
By: Greg Avila-Shah
I love running.
There is nothing I love more than going for a run.
Over the years, I have built up a love of everything to do with running, from studying gear, to spending countless hours pouring over results, to even being employed by a timing company. I simply am always involved with something to do with running.
However, I feel that I do not owe my love of running to anyone other than my high school coach, Coach Gary Raby.
When I look back at my running career, I find it hard to think of a time that Coach Raby wasn't in some way involved with it.
I first met Coach back in the fall of 2009, and at the time, I was not a runner. My experience was limited to the occasional 5K road race and frequent trips from the couch to the fridge.
After this one road race in particular, I was approached by Coach Raby, and he said the words that he has said to so many others before:
"You should run cross country"
What many of Coach Raby's athletes will tell you is that he was a master recruiter. Putting together a team was never a problem for him. He would see an athlete that he wanted on the team, and he would simply say the phrase:
"You should run cross country".
The phrase was so simple, yet it was so effective. Everyone whom he approached usually ended up joining the team.
The funny thing is, I don't think most of us joined for the running aspect of it.
We joined for him.
Coach Raby was one of the kindest people to walk the planet, and he did it without trying to be.
He firmly believed that everyone deserves a high five after every run, and it became his trademark. After every mile, every workout, every race, Coach Raby was standing there, waiting to give out all the high fives one could ask for.
He was even known to high five opposing teams (which completely baffled some of us)
Coach's love of running was unrivaled by anyone I know.
Every day, rain or shine, Coach would put the miles in with us, taking up the rear of our column, and never stopping until each runner had returned to the school.
Even the loss of his own son did not deter him.
I remember the day that Coach Raby came to practice and told us that he was going to run 100 miles on the track, in memory of his son.
And like so many times before, I said:
"Coach, you are absolutely crazy"
But he did it.
Over the course of 5 days, Coach Raby ran all 100 of those miles. He ran with a purpose, and he ran because he wanted to.
He showed us his love of everyone, and his love of running.
It was at this moment that I knew that I wanted to be a runner.
Coach believed in all of us, talent or no talent. There was no such thing as a non runner. To him, everyone was a runner, no matter their speed or size.
I ran in my first track sectionals as a freshman, in our 4x800 relay. Coach Raby knew I was scared, but he told me to relax, and to run with my heart.
I ran with my heart, and we came second to last.
I was frustrated, and he could see it. After the race, he came up to me, and put his hand on my head, and the head of another runner from our relay, looked me in the eyes and said "Greg, you're in 9th grade. You have got 3 more years to run the race you want. I believe in you. I know you will be back, and I know you will be a great runner. Both of you have so many more years left to forget this race. You will return, and you won't be at the bottom again. We all have to start somewhere"
That resonated with me for the next year. He lit a fire in me that I didn't want put out.
I trained every day to become better, not only for myself, but because I felt that Coach put his faith in me, and I did not want to let him down.
Out of all the lessons that he taught us at Lewiston Porter, the most important one was a singular word.
Believe.
It became our motto during my junior year. Coach wanted us to believe that we could be the best, and in turn we would train like the best.
But it carried so much more meaning than that.
He wanted us to apply it to our lives. He wanted us to see any challenge, and believe in ourselves, no matter what happened, and no matter what we thought we could do.
His goal that year was to have records broken.
The first day of track, he told us that we would break records.
We didn't believe him, but he believed in us.
That year, we ran inspired.
We ran for him, and we ran harder than we ever had before.
We set records left right and center, and we even had a few people place at the sectional meet.
We learned our lesson. We had learned to believe.
Coach treated the team like a family. To him we were not just athletes. We were his kids.
On occasion, we called ourselves "Raby Babies"
In turn, running under him was so much more than just competing in a sport.
To us, it was a family event.
His assistant Coach was his daughter, Jennifer.
He held practices for the team's parents to come and run with us.
Every year, Coach inspired us.
He set an example that many of us try to replicate in our daily lives.
Coach is not a yeller. When he is upset, he talks. He would always say "I wear my emotions on my sleeve"
If something bothered him, we had "Coach's Corner", and he would talk to us about it.
Coach is an emotionally positive person. I have very few memories of him actually being mad, though I was one of his "knuckleheads"
The passion that coach brought to the team was incredible. We spent years being close to the bottom of our league, but that never fazed him.
When I was in ninth grade, we defeated an old rival, and that brought Coach to tears.
When someone was down, Coach felt for them. He held our heads up high when we weren't able to.
We won as a family, we lost as a family.
When he became sick, Coach didn't stop coaching.
Every day, he showed up, and continued to teach us life lessons.
When he wasn't able to run with us anymore, he remained at the track, eagerly awaiting us, high fives at the ready.
Being sick never curbed his enthusiasm and his love for running.
Coach never once complained when he was tired or cold or hungry when the treatment started taking its toll.
Instead, he showed up every day, with a smile on his face.
Even close to the end, in the hospital, Coach NEVER lost his spirit.
He even told me he believed in me. That he knew that I would find my way in life.
Coach never was in it for himself. His lone satisfaction was the knowledge that he had touched all of our lives, and that we were better off because of it.
Coach, you are a part of all of us forever.
We love and miss you.
Rest in Peace Coach Gary Raby
1/20/2016
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