Christmas Without Cancer Makes Home Visit to Frankfort Boy

The Frankfort Fire Protection District and its massive fire engine announced its arrival with sirens as it roared into the residential cul-de-sac, followed by a caravan of response vehicles and family vans and SUVs.

Young Quinn Lisak hit the remote to pause Sunday’s Bears and Packers game seconds before the noon kickoff.

Through the window Quinn spotted Santa atop the fire truck and a slew of cars pulling into the street. Christmas Without Cancer sought out Quinn, having heard about the young man’s plight with leukemia.

Neighbors in Walter Peyton jerseys and Mike Ditka jackets appeared on their front lawns offering the strangers space in their driveways to unload large gift-wrapped boxes for the Lisak family. It was implicit to everyone why this hearty group had arrived in advance of Christmas.

While Chicago fans everywhere were tracking Bears, Quinn was playing gracious host to strangers - a resilient team of volunteers traveling the far south suburbs and back toward Chicago, creating Christmas memories along their path.

Getting settled inside, Christmas Without Cancer volunteers politely positioned themselves around the living room, while Quinn’s grandparents, Clare and Joe, made everyone comfortable in their home. Paying medical bills and providing other “need” items is now Christmas Without Cancer’s calling card in this its 15 year.

The paused Bear contest remained a single frame – time stopped for a boy in need.

Quinn shared that he had just spent his 13th birthday in the hospital while dealing with chemotherapy. The heavy metal leg braces wrapped around white, basketball tube socks connected at the base to massive, black corrective shoes. Quinn doesn’t say so, but he’d prefer white baseball spikes.

Christmas Without Cancer founder Gerri Neylon proclaims in the packed living room “Quinn is on his way to recovery” and pledges “you won’t be in the hospital, Quinn, for your 14th birthday.” Everyone agrees.

Quinn smiles and opens up a Play Station while seated next to his doting sister Quelyn, 15, who prefers a different kind of heavy metal. Grandparents Clare and Joe remark that the brother and sister “are even closer since Quinn’s many visits” to the hospital began.

Uninvited, Thor and Zeus, the family dogs pounced into the living room. The older Thor circled the room sniffing everyone as if to protect his little master, and then curls up at Quinn’s feet like a front line of defense.

Zeus, a wired and whip-quick puppy, bolts out the front door and disappears from the cul-de-sac. Some time later Zeus returns, seated regally in the fire chief’s back seat. The chief reveals that they cornered the black mutt a mile away and collared him for the ride home. Zeus seemed to enjoy the dog’s eye view from the open window. He relished being back with Quinn more.

“The dogs take turns sleeping on Quinn’s bed,” said Clare. “They are glad he’s home.”

As is everyone who knows about Quinn’s 15 operations and dozens of treatments to save a young boy’s life with modern-day medicine.

After a year of treatments in 2017, Quinn was making a spring of 2018 Pony League comeback in the Frankfort Square in-house and travel baseball leagues. On the night before he was stricken and dropped at death’s door, his game was rounding back into shape – highlighted by a run-scoring double and the turn of a sparkling double play at shortstop.

During his most recent hospital stay, the Lisak family was gifted a house make-over, engineered by Quinn’s best friend Josh Boers’ father, Joe Boers, with support from grandfather Terry Boers of 670-The SCORE sports talk radio fame and sports writing at the Chicago Sun-Times, where he excelled as the best NBA writer in town for a time and later as a sports columnist.

Young Josh hosted a “shave your head bald” fundraiser to help his buddy and baseball teammate.

“The great Boars’ family helped so much,” said Clare. “It’s a miracle he’s alive.”

The makeover construction team even built Quinn “a man cave” so he and Josh and other friends can come over and play video games.

One resident doctor facing transfer gained great admiration for Quinn and came to visit the brave young man at his home in Frankfort.

Telling Quinn that baseball may no longer be his calling, the doctor suggested a back-up plan in medicine because of his ability to articulate procedures and verbalize medical jargon. Quinn responded that he plans to be an engineer and if that doesn’t work he’ll think about being a doctor.

Resting Tuesday evening after another spinal tap and exhausting day of treatment Monday, Quinn said: “I’d like to thank all the friends who have prayed for me.”

For more information on supporting these efforts for Quinn and others, visit the website at christmaswithoutcancer.org.