WATKINS GLEN, N.Y. - The toughness and resiliency Jim Kelly demonstrated as a Hall of Fame quarterback were exhibited again last Saturday, even as he struggled with the grief of referencing his son, Hunter, in the past tense.

"We want to do everything we can to make sure other kids don't have to suffer the way my son does," he said.

Kelly caught himself: "The way (Hunter) did."

The former Buffalo Bills star was legendary for rebounding from concussions and devastating Super Bowl losses. A week after his 8-year-old son's death, the East Brady stood in the pocket of the public eye and put on his bravest face.

He served as the grand marshal of the NASCAR Busch Series Zippo 200 at Watkins Glen International and used the opportunity to raise awareness for the Hunter's Hope Foundation.

He reassured people that his fight against Krabbe disease and other leukodystrophies didn't end with his son's life on Aug. 5.

They say nobody "circled the wagons" better than Kelly's Bills of the 1990s. He embodies that spirit nine seasons after his final game.

"Hunter has changed more lives in his eight years than most people will do in their lifetime," said Kelly, whose son died of Krabbe disease, a rare degenerative condition that destroys white matter of the brain. "It's up to us to carry on his legacy."

When visiting the Pro Football Hall of Fame we think of the inductees as already having done their best work. That's not the case with Kelly, who was forced to miss this year's enshrinement.

Hunter's Hope has awarded more than $3.8 million to neurological disease-related research. Some funding has produced breakthroughs in umbilical cord blood transplants that give children, diagnosed early enough, a chance at leading normal lives.

In the past year, Kelly has appeared on Capitol Hill, lobbying the likes of New York Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton for universal newborn screening.

Each state sets its own standard. Some test newborns for as few as four diseases, Kelly said. His efforts in New York helped increase the number from 11 to 44.

Some Hall of Famers use their clout for Super Bowl ticket upgrades. Kelly is trying to save some lives and raise the quality of others.

"Three thousand babies die every year because they are born in the wrong state," said Kelly, who ruled out a run for Congress. "This is my lifelong commitment: to make sure every state tests for the maximum (number of diseases)."

The past week has been unspeakably difficult. While discussing the pain of having to leave his wife, Jill, and their daughters, Erin, 10, and Camryn, 6, at home this weekend, someone asked Kelly's opinion of the Terrell Owens' saga.

As if Kelly had nothing else on his mind.

"(Owens) wouldn't have lasted very long on our team, plain and simple," Kelly said. "It's getting very old, and I'm tired of hearing about it to tell you the truth."

Football has not been Kelly's focus for some time.

Doctors didn't expect Hunter to survive his second birthday. He was hospitalized for pneumonia 15 times before age 5. He could not walk, talk or laugh. He communicated through blinking his eyes and squeezing his hands.

Unable to swallow, his throat was suctioned 150 times a day. He was fed through a tube in his stomach.

And still Hunter kept battling, plying hope to families once told that Krabbe disease brought swift death.

"I started to think he would live forever," Kelly said smiling.

Hunter loved horses. He enjoyed watching football and auto racing with his father, who's become involved in the ownership of a NASCAR Busch Series team.

The boy who Kelly called his hero was the focal point of his 2002 Hall of Fame induction. Kelly used it as a platform to spread the word on diseases such as Krabbe.

The Kellys knew little about it when Hunter was diagnosed four months after his birth. The foundation now includes 372 Krabbe families and 116 other leukodystrophy families in its database.

There is no cure, but Kelly said early detection and cord blood transplants are pivotal to helping families

"There are other kids who have the same disease as my son who are walking, talking and smiling," Kelly said.

Inclement weather at Watkins Glen did not allow Kelly to address the crowd as he wanted before Saturday's race. He simply paid tribute to Hunter and instructed drivers to start their engines.

Kelly's hasn't stopped running in eight years.