After battling leukemia, Piketon's Zach Farmer dies

PIKETON – If you've ever witnessed a shooting star in the night sky, you're one of the lucky ones.

Bright, extraordinary and unique; I was fortunate enough to meet one in the flesh.

Every time I came into contact with former Piketon and Ohio State star pitcher Zach Farmer, I left the conversation awestruck. He never quit smiling, he never put an end to his giving spirit, and he never quit fighting.

However, just like any other meteor that soars above, Farmer's light also burned out too soon. On Tuesday morning, after a 15-month battle with acute myeloid leukemia, Farmer passed away at The James Cancer Hospital on the campus of Ohio State University. He was just 21 years old.

While some view this as a loss for Farmer, it certainly is not. With cancer, there is no winner or loser. The wretched disease brings out the best in a person, discloses the fight an individual has and reveals just how big a heart can be. And, boy, was Zach Farmer's heart humongous.

Some question why a star such as Farmer can be taken from the Earth at such a young age; why someone with so much potential, so much upside and so much love can be taken from our lives in the blink of an eye.

I, too, have those same questions.

And while I don't have the answers, I do know the type of legacy he leaves for us to remember him by. A specific example comes to mind when I think about a conversation I had with him after he had been diagnosed with leukemia for the second time.

He told me, "I don't plan on backing down from (leukemia)," he said. "It's beatable. I've done it once, and I plan on doing it again." Four days later, he married his high school sweetheart, Kelsie, on July 19.

As he did when he was on the mound, Farmer went after the challenge set in front of him. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, he had the mind about him to show his love for somebody else. That, in itself, is truly amazing.

Farmer was a professional prospect and former all-American pitcher in high school while at Piketon. He spurned professional overtures to play at Ohio State and was nearly through his first full collegiate season when he was diagnosed with the leukemia for the first time.

See tributes to Zach Farmer on Twitter using hashtag #zf11

After his diagnosis, Farmer battled the disease and, after a few months of treatment, was declared cancer-free. In April of this year, he stood on the mound at Bill Davis Stadium to throw out the first pitch at a Buckeyes game. His intended to rejoin his teammates for the 2016 season and also to continue his studies at the school this fall.

But leukemia intervened once again. On July 15, doctors told Farmer his cancer had returned and there was no more they could do to save him.

After surprising Kelsie with the aforementioned marriage proposal, she delivered her own surprise when she arranged for Farmer's hero, former major league pitcher Randy Johnson, to speak to him by phone just a few days before Johnson was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

In their conversation, Johnson promised to give him a wave at the end of his speech.

But Johnson did more than that, mentioning Farmer by name and telling his story before finishing with: "Zach, I love you. I've never met you before, but hang in there."

Farmer was emotional about the mention, telling WCMH-TV in Columbus, "For someone of his stature to mention me is amazing."

But to me, Johnson had the privilege of speaking to Zach, not the other way around.

We all have heroes, living or deceased. In life, Zach Farmer was a hero of mine. In death, he will continue to be that role model.

As I remember his prowess on the baseball diamond, his dominance of the game of life also comes into play. He lived it to the fullest. He taught us, as a community, how to laugh, how to love and how to persevere.

Fallen but not forgotten, Farmer is now flying high. He can play the game he loved so much in his afterlife and, one day, if I'm lucky enough, I'll once again be able to be in the presence of a shooting star.

Zach Farmer. 1994-2015. Gone too soon.