The subject, Frank Bice, was my teacher and advisor in high school, and after I graduated in 2018, I regretted not making a documentary about him during the time we shared. He had an immense impact on me–and all of my classmates–because his disability never made him less of a person. He was a mentor, coach, teacher, deacon, published author, and friend to all who met him. He fell sick with pressure sores over the summer after I graduated, and he was bed-ridden for a year as told in the documentary short. When he was well enough, he moved to Notre Dame, a place that he was convinced was the best environment for him to make a full recovery. I completed this documentary a week after visiting with him for only three days in October 2019. That was the last time I saw him.
Frank died suddenly on January 1, 2020 from complications with his persistent pressure sores, but I didn't see a need to change the hopeful and forward-focused tone of the documentary because of that fact. Everything he said was and still is true, and I know that his light shines even brighter now inside everyone who knew him. The vibrant version of Frank you see on the screen is who he is in his heart of hearts, and that human version of him–not a memory of him–is how he deserves to be known.