Special Olympics Chicago celebrates 50th anniversary

CHICAGO — One of Chicago’s most decorated athletes sat on a bench inside Independence Park’s stately brick field house on the Northwest Side, a slew of medals hanging around his neck shining almost as brightly as Brian Freese’s smile.

Dozens of passers-by acknowledged Brian, 33, the Special Olympics Chicago standout who replied to greetings with a hearty “Hello” and to hugs with a sincere “Thank you.” They were the people who have seen how hard Brian competes in his favorite sports of bocce ball, flag football and soccer — the sport in which he once challenged an opponent for knocking his teammate’s glasses off.

The people who remember when Brian used to go bowling with a ball that changed colors and the day he first jumped into the pool down the hallway at age 4. The people who traveled on Brian’s floor-hockey trip to Montreal as a teenage Special Olympian or saw him bolt to victory in the 50-meter freestyle at the state games in Bloomington, Ill., and the ones who helped him recover from torn ligaments in his knee. The people who understand how much Brian loves Justin Timberlake’s music, Raven-Symone’s television shows and every Chicago sports team — especially the Bulls.

“Everybody knows me here,” Brian said after some coaxing. “This is where I have fun.”

This is where Brian feels a sense of belonging, the place he discovered acceptance was the norm. This is the setting in which friends became family, frowns turned into grins and a new perspective presents itself to every person who walks through those old doors. This is why celebrating the Special Olympics 50th anniversary July 17-22 at Soldier Field, where it all began, matters so much to everyone fortunate enough to find out firsthand the impact of inclusiveness the organization made possible.

“Brian started coming here to swim when he was 4, and by the time he was 7 or 8, he really started getting into it more because of the socialization. It was such a great place to come because he had friends,” said Sue Freese, Brian’s mother, who teaches at Dirksen Elementary School. “It gave him a chance to be happy. That’s all we cared about.”

The Freeses live in Norwood Park, which didn’t offer a Special Olympics program during Brian’s childhood, so the family considered Independence Park a godsend. Brian, who is developmentally disabled, is one of the city’s 7,500 athletes who participate in year-round Special Olympics programs and activities, currently offered in 122 Chicago Public Schools and 23 Chicago Park District locations — the largest Special Olympics commitment of any public park district in America.

In 1968, by contrast, fewer than 150 Special Olympians competed in 10 park district venues in the city. Illinois Supreme Court Justice Anne Burke was a young physical education teacher for the West Pullman Park District when she volunteered to lead one of the city’s 10 special-education summer camps. A $10,000 gift to the Chicago Park District from the Kennedy Foundation, chaired by Eunice Kennedy Shriver, provided the seed money eventually used to create what became the Special Olympics.

William McFetridge, then the Chicago Park District president, enlisted Burke to organize a citywide track meet for special-education campers, according to archives. A year later, the Kennedy Foundation donated another $25,000 to the “Chicago Special Olympics,” and on July 20, 1968, at Soldier Field, 1,000 athletes from 26 states and Canada competed in touch football, swimming and basketball in the middle of the lakefront stadium.

A ceremonial lighting of the Special Olympics Eternal Flame of Hope will serve as a source of local pride in an international movement, a reminder of how watching these athletes can lift spirits and changes lives.

Just ask Maureen Perez, the heart and soul of the Independence Park program she has been involved with since volunteering in high school. This marks Perez’s 32nd year working with Special Olympians, and every day she still considers herself more learner than teacher.

“I’m very proud of myself,” Brian said.

He’s not the only one.