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On this heartbreaking night when we lost Jarrod Lyle, I can’t help but think of when I first met him.
It was June 2011, and I’d flown to Memphis, Tenn., to write a magazine cover story on him. He was 29 at the time, cancer-free, and he’d agreed to visit the world-renowned St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital for the first time.
It scared the hell out of him.
When Jarrod was 17, he underwent treatment for acute myeloid leukemia. For nine months he was confined to a hospital bed in Melbourne, just like the ones they had at St.