Look, I’ve covered a lot of charity galas in my fifteen years doing this, and they usually blur together after a while – same speeches, same chicken dinner, same awkward auction portion where someone pays way too much for a weekend in Napa. But the Barbara Berlanti Heroes Gala this year? That one’s gonna stick with me.

Greg Berlanti started this thing back in 2018, named it after his mom who died from cancer. And if you don’t know who Berlanti is, you’ve definitely watched something he’s made – the guy’s basically responsible for half of what’s on TV. But this year’s gala hit different, and not in a good way. Because James Van Der Beek, the actor from Berlanti’s very first show Dawson’s Creek, just died. From cancer. The same disease that took Berlanti’s mom.

When Your Fundraiser Becomes a Memorial

I mean, how do you even process that? You’re throwing this annual event to honor your mom and raise money to fight the disease that killed her, and then it takes one of the people who helped launch your entire career. Van Der Beek wasn’t just some random actor Berlanti worked with once – he was Dawson, the namesake of the show that put Berlanti on the map back in the late ’90s.

The timing is cruel in a way that feels almost scripted, except nobody would write it this way because it’s too on-the-nose. Kevin Williamson, who created Dawson’s Creek, got an award at the gala. And you’ve gotta wonder what that moment was like. There’s probably no way to separate the celebration from the grief when someone from your original crew just died from the exact thing you’re all gathered to fight against.

Cancer Doesn’t Care About Your Nostalgia

Here’s the thing that gets me about stories like this – we tend to think of cancer as something that happens to other people, or older people, or people who “had risk factors” or whatever other mental gymnastics we do to convince ourselves we’re somehow immune. Van Der Beek was 47. That’s not old. That’s barely middle-aged by today’s standards. It's the same mental math behind Constance Zimmer's own cancer battle, where even a "good" diagnosis still shook her to the core.

And Berlanti’s been doing this gala for six years now, raising money, bringing awareness, doing everything you’re supposed to do. But cancer doesn’t really care about your fundraising totals or how many TV shows you’ve produced or how many people showed up to your gala. It just… keeps taking people.

What Do You Even Say at Something Like That?

I keep trying to imagine what the speeches were like at this year’s event. Do you acknowledge the elephant in the room? Of course you do – how could you not? But then what? Do you talk about Van Der Beek’s career, his family, the hole he’s left behind? Do you use it as a rallying cry for more research funding? Do you just let people cry?

There’s no playbook for turning a celebration into a wake. And honestly, that’s kind of what happens with these disease-specific fundraisers sometimes. You gather people together who’ve all been touched by the same illness, you honor someone who died from it, you raise money to fight it, and then sometimes – not always, but sometimes – it claims another person in your circle before the next event rolls around.

It’s a cycle that feels both necessary and completely exhausting. Because what’s the alternative? Stop trying? Give up on funding research because it’s too painful to keep gathering and remembering? Obviously not. But I won’t pretend there’s anything uplifting about the situation either.

The Dawson’s Creek Connection Makes It Worse

Maybe this is just me being sentimental, but there’s something extra gutting about the Dawson’s Creek angle here. That show was a cultural moment – everyone who was a teenager in the late ’90s or early 2000s has an opinion about it. And it launched not just Van Der Beek’s career, but basically everyone involved. Berlanti went on to become one of the most prolific producers in television history. Williamson created a whole genre of teen drama that we’re still copying today.

And now one of the four main cast members from that show is gone, and the two guys who created it are at a cancer fundraiser trying to figure out how to honor him while also honoring Berlanti’s mom while also convincing people to open their wallets for a disease that just keeps winning.

“The Barbara Berlanti Heroes Gala was launched in 2018 in honor of his mom who had died of cancer”

That quote hits different now. Because it’s not just about Berlanti’s mom anymore. It’s about Van Der Beek too. And it’ll probably be about other people in the future, because that’s how cancer works – it doesn’t stop.

What This Actually Means

I guess what I’m getting at is this: we treat these charity galas like they’re these polished, uplifting events where celebrities show up and everyone feels good about writing a check. And sometimes they are that. But sometimes they’re also really fucking sad. Sometimes they’re a reminder that despite all the money we’ve thrown at cancer research, despite all the awareness campaigns and pink ribbons and races for the cure, people are still dying. People like Van Der Beek, who probably had access to the best medical care money can buy.

Berlanti’s gonna keep doing this gala, I’m sure. Williamson will probably keep showing up. They’ll keep raising money and honoring people and trying to make a difference. Because what else can you do? But nobody should pretend it’s not hard. Nobody should act like it’s just another nice event on the charity circuit.

This one was a goodbye disguised as a gala. And I suspect everyone in that room knew it.