Ryan's Story...

Ryan Dunn Apostolakes was a fun, loving child who time after time needed to tell everyone that he loved them. Often times throughout the day, he would express the words, “I love you;” wise words from that of a three and a half year old -- many times to strangers in passing. In retrospect, this may have been a message of a more meaningful value..that of “Unconditional Love.”

Ryan Apostolakes was only three and a half years old when he died on Tuesday, June 24, 2003 at the Lowell General Hospital after a tragic accident at Hart Pond, a local swimming park, in Chelmsford,

Massachusetts. Ryan was left alone at the water’s edge by his 34-year old care giver. The care giver’s decision on that day changed many lives of those who Ryan had touched directly and indirectly. Not only has his family been devastated, but the pain continues to be present on the faces and minds of many in this close community of Chelmsford. Most telling was the look of all the emergency personnel who tried to save Ryan’s life and couldn’t. Even to this day, all who tried to save his life are still affected by the improper decision of an individual who chose to leave a child unattended. The faces and words of the emergency personnel will never be forgotten.

While family and friends continue to struggle with the reality of the situation, Ryan’s unconditional love inspired the creation of the RDA Fund. With Ryan’s parents, Jeff and Barbara Apostolakes, this fund is now growing and helping many organizations.

“Saving children’s lives with education…one child at a time.”

Inspiration...

I'm standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says, "There, she is gone!" "Gone where?" Gone from my sight.
That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her, and just at the moment when someone at my side says, "There, she is gone!" there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"