How an Author and a Grieving Father Found Unexpected Healing Through Playing a Game of Catch

Bird of Bliss for American Essence

On the morning of September 20, 2020, author Ethan Bryan sat down in the rear of Mudhouse Coffee in downtown Springfield, Missouri. Bryan sipped a mocha. The smell of sizzling sausage and bell peppers drifted out of the kitchen, just a few feet away. Normally, Bryan would be writing, but today was different. He’d recently completed “A Year of Playing Catch,” his book about the importance of play in our lives. The making of the book took him across 10 states as he found a new stranger to play catch with every day. Although the act was simple, the stories shared in the process led to lessons about changing one’s life and making an impact in the community. With the book finished, Bryan intended to collect reviews for his publicist. So, he typed his own name into a search engine. The top result caused Bryan to draw breath.

“It was an obituary,” he said, “for Ethan Bryan.”

The obituary was written for 16-year-old Ethan Bryan, who had died four days earlier in a car crash in Terre du Lac, Missouri, about three hours away. The discovery flung Bryan, the author, down a rabbit hole. “I was pulled into his world,” he said. “I learned that this young man, who was an exceptional baseball player with a big heart, had died while on his way home from practice.” Bryan paused there. He said that he is a father of two young girls. “To imagine losing a child is unbearable.”

Collecting reviews was crowded from Bryan’s mind by the sudden, overwhelming need to connect with Dan Bryan, who was preparing to bury his own son. “I felt this need to reach out,” Bryan said. “I wanted his parents to know that they’re not alone.” He eventually found the deceased young man’s high school, and he sent an email to Principal Levi Rawson. “After explaining myself,” Bryan said, “which was more difficult than I thought it would be, he invited me to mail the book.” With that, Bryan dropped a copy into the mail and waited for a response.

Dan Bryan finally gets to play catch with Ethan Bryan during their fateful meeting, March 2022. Courtesy of Ethan Bryan

His Path Toward Healing Takes Shape

Dan Bryan was in the throes of profound grief when he received a package from an author who shared the same name as his recently deceased son. Because of that strange coincidence, Dan couldn’t bring himself to open the book. “It was a shocking moment,” Dan said. “The fact that they shared a name was just too much for me to process.” The book, Dan concluded, would have to wait.

Dan knew he needed help to begin to process his grief, but he felt that he couldn’t trust anybody. A former soldier who’d served in the U.S. Army in Bosnia, he was paralyzed by shock, filled with anger. “I was a closed-off person,” he said. “I was taught to show no weakness. I didn’t talk about it.” So, he didn’t. That is, until he met another man who’d lost a child. Dan felt the need to reach out to that man. “We met for lunch,” Dan said. “I saw immediately that we were struggling with the same thing. As we talked, I could see the tears running down his face. We were in the same place.” Dan sensed something else stirring in the man that was painfully familiar: The man sitting across from him had no outlet for the immense weight of grief. For Dan, “it was like looking into a mirror.”

Dan thought often of his son, who was becoming an outstanding hitter. He batted second in the West County High School Bulldogs lineup. His batting average at the time was .476. “His coach put Ethan in that slot, because he was likely to get on base,” Dan said. Ethan was a utility player; he could play any position on the field—including pitcher. The day before the tragic accident, Ethan played an outstanding game. “I told him that I was proud of him,” Dan said. Then, the young man’s life was cut short.

Bryan now plays for the Ozark Mountain Ducks, a minor league baseball team. Courtesy of Ethan Bryan

Dan carried the burden of grief for more than a year before he opened “A Year of Playing Catch.” When he finally began to read the book, the words, and the game behind them, had an immediate impact. His path toward healing began to take shape in his mind’s eye as he turned the pages. “The author was playing catch in order to connect with others,” Dan said. “I got that. While reading that book, I saw that I could honor my son’s memory, and heal, with this. Baseball could be my vehicle to heal. But I needed to ask the author’s permission to begin.” Fifteen months after receiving the book, Dan sent Ethan Bryan, the author, an email.

Having Hope Is an Active Choice

Rewind to Christmas, 2017. Bryan was wrestling with a midlife crisis when his daughters planted the seed for what would become “A Year of Playing Catch,” which is subtitled: “What a Simple Daily Experiment Taught Me about Life.” Bryan, who was 43 at the time, asked himself the same questions every day: “Who am I? Where am I going? What am I doing with my life?”

He was working on two books, neither stirring the inner need to write. Bryan’s daughter gave him a baseball as a gift and then invited him to play catch. “I was suffering from mild depression, maybe,” he said, laughing. “But, I feel big emotions all the time. I needed to get out of my head.” Though there was snow on the ground, he accepted. Then, his older daughter asked what would happen if he played catch every day. “That’s how it started,” Bryan said.

As his year of playing catch gained momentum, he was invited to play with former All-American Baseball League infielder Mary Moore. She appeared in the film “A League of Their Own,” which is, in part, based on her life. Bryan also played catch with Jim Morris, the former Tampa Bay Devil Rays pitcher whose career inspired Disney’s “The Rookie.” Morris, who made his major league debut at 35 after a few major arm surgeries (which are known to end careers), talked about the importance of holding on to your dreams. “He talked to me about getting past obstacles, while throwing sliders,” Bryan said. “The most important thing I learned from him was to never lose hope. Having hope is an active choice.”

“Maybe that’s why,” Bryan continued, “I never gave up hope that Dan would respond to me.” Though it had been nearly 15 months since Bryan sent his book to Dan, they finally connected via phone. “After talking about the book, and his son,” Bryan said, “Dan asked if he could steal my idea.” Bryan paused there. “I said that I would cheer him on.”

Thus, Dan began his journey toward healing by playing catch with a different person every day.

Ethan Bryan’s book about his experience playing catch with strangers illustrates the power of true connections with people. Mike Hudgens Photography

Just Two Guys Playing Catch

Three months later, in March 2022, the men finally met to play catch with one another. It was a rainy day, so they had to go inside the gym at West County High School, in Park Hills, Missouri. The late Ethan Bryan’s former teammates watched on in silence as the men threw the ball to one another. The only sound in the gym was the intermittent snap of the ball as it hit the leather web of each man’s glove. “After a while, I said: ‘So, aren’t you going to tell me a story about your son?’” Bryan recalled. “Then, it got really quiet.”

Dan struggled to find words that fit his thoughts. Then, Dan told Bryan that, due to his recent divorce, and pandemic safety measures, he wasn’t able to see his son as often as he wanted. The day before his son died, Dan texted Ethan. “I asked him what he had for dinner,” Dan said. “He replied: ‘Pizza and ravioli.’ I told him that I was proud of the way he was playing, and to keep up the good work.” The late Ethan Bryan replied, “Okay, I will.”

“I didn’t need to tell him to give it his all, because he always did that,” Dan said. “Now, I tell everybody to give it your all every day, because you never know when it will be your last.”

The ball snapped into the web of Bryan’s glove. He felt the weight of it, and its shape, before grabbing hold of it. He found the seams, then threw it to Dan. “I’m proud of you,” Bryan said to Dan. “You’re doing beautiful work.”

As the ball zipped from one man to the other, Ethan said that it fell silent again. For a moment, their separate identities—an author enduring midlife crisis, hustling to promote his book, and a father wrestling with regret and grief—fell away.

In that moment, they were just two guys playing catch.

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.