Chris Snow’s Strength Will Stick Around Long After He’s Gone

It’s April 2002, New York. Chris Snow is riding shotgun in his car, and he’s sitting there, smiling and teetering, because he’s drunk. We had spent the day up north, exploring the city of Carthage and the town of Champion, where five of the best players in lacrosse history happened to grow up in backyards that connected. This was the kind of story that pushed us into storytelling, that grips curious minds and settles into souls.

We laughed for years about one moment from that day, a slice of normalcy on what felt, to us, like a big occasion, the weight of shaping a story that might resonate, especially with our crew of one-uppers at The Daily Orange. Larry Powell, father of three Syracuse lacrosse legends, had played tour guide at a local egg farm. These weren’t normal eggs. These were dinosaur eggs, large and round. “Triple yokers!” Larry shouted at one point, with a sort of childlike innocence that spiraled two college students into giggle fits.

Snow, who was from New England, was diagnosed with ALS in 2019. 

Mary Schwalm/AP