What Chase Anthony lacked in size he made up for in spirit.
Known for his exuberant smile, playful wit and attachment to the Jacksonville Jaguars, the Keystone Heights High School junior was more than a student with special needs—he was an adored community fixture.
Now, just days after what was supposed to be life-changing surgery, family, friends and an entire town are grappling with the unthinkable: Chase is gone.
He was born with Hurler’s Syndrome, an extremely rare and incurable genetic disorder that affects fewer than 5,000 children in the United States. The disease occurs when both parents carry a faulty gene, combining to cause a devastating array of symptoms: stunted growth, joint stiffness, organ enlargement and cognitive delays. Most children with Hurler’s do not live beyond the age of 10.

But despite the constant pain, he endured—well past the boundaries that had been drawn for him.
Raised from birth by his grandmother—whom he called “Mom”—Chase defied every grim medical forecast for 17 years.
He endured countless surgeries that would have made grown men buckle: from neck and hip reconstructions to joint corrections and speech therapy. He grimaced daily from severe arthritis, with curled bones and a body that grew increasingly fragile over time.
Still, he lived with a determined joy and determination that inspired those around him.
“He was hurting,” his aunt Krista Ellis told The Citizen. “But he was brave. He smiled through it all and kept going.”
Though often soft-spoken, Chase was an uplifting presence at Keystone Heights high school, known for his lighthearted insights and the kind of thankful perspective that comes only from living in a state of constant adversity.
If Chase had an interest or curiosity, school administrators would nurture it.
He participated in the school’s weightlifting program, encouraged and assisted by his teammates and teachers.
He had an abiding faith in Jesus, and looked forward to dressing up for church with grandma.

He was aware of his affliction. “He knew he couldn’t do what all the other boys could do,” Ellis said. “He knew he couldn’t run a mile. But he did what he could. He would run as much as he could until he couldn’t.”
Last week, Chase underwent a complicated surgery in Gainesville to straighten his severely curved spine—a final, high-risk procedure intended to improve and lengthen his of life.
The 18-hour surgery was grueling, but Chase made it through. By Wednesday morning, he was awake, smiling and eating breakfast with his family.
Hours later, everything would change.
Around noon, Chase went into sudden cardiac arrest. Doctors rushed to place him on life support, using machines to replace his heart and lungs.
By Thursday night, it became clear: his brain had suffered catastrophic damage. His kidneys and liver began to fail. Blood clots spread.
Surrounded by his family—nearly 15 people gathered in a Gainesville hospital room—Chase passed away Friday afternoon, and the machines were quietly turned off.
As the finality of Chase’s passing took hold, sobs broke through the quiet.
A service at Trinity Baptist Church in Keystone Heights is planned. A GoFundMe was launched to help cover funeral expenses and support Chase’s grandmother, who remains paralyzed by grief.
Her little warrior had laid down his arms.
“God had a plan to keep him with us this long, for much longer than we thought,” Ellis said. “Now God has another plan for him, away from us.”
