FLOWERY BRANCH, Ga. — The gym fell silent after Chris Lindstrom, playing for Shepherd Hill Regional High School of Dudley, Massachusetts, took a particularly hard foul during a basketball game in his sophomore year.
Then one voice rang out.
“My mom stood up and goes, ‘Christopher, don’t take any more of his s—, kick his f—ing ass,’ ” Lindstrom’s brother, Alec, said. “Screaming in a completely quiet gym. And then the gym erupts.
“Everyone was going crazy.”
Lindstrom, now an All-Pro guard for the Atlanta Falcons, was horrified at the time, but laughs about what has turned into a core memory. Dawn Lindstrom couldn’t help it. Her son had been fouled and she wanted to make sure he knew that wasn’t acceptable.
That was Dawn, the ultimate cheerleader and friendly mom — unless you wronged one of her kids. Then she made it clear that she — and they — would not take it. She was the family focal point, immersed in the games her kids played — from football to basketball to volleyball. She was a wife, sister-in-law and mother to NFL players.
She was an inspiration, and her memory hits harder this time of year. Dawn died of ovarian cancer on Dec. 21, 2021. While the Lindstrom family is filled with football players past and present, Dawn played a big role in helping guide Chris on a career path that would make him the highest-paid guard in the NFL.
“You kind of get reminded of the feeling that we all had,” Lindstrom said. “You get that reminiscent feeling. You definitely get sad.
“But also in the same sense, you’re just appreciative of the moments we did have together.”
LINDSTROM’S FATHER, CHRIS SR., played three NFL seasons, and his uncle, Eric, put in eight years. Chris Jr. wanted to follow in those footsteps, but there was a time when he couldn’t play at all.
Lindstrom has kidney hydronephrosis, which is essentially swelling of the kidney, and doctors initially refused to clear him for football. Lindstrom understood — didn’t like it, but he got it. Every year, Lindstrom and Dawn went to the nephrologist for a checkup hoping for a different result. In sixth grade, at the end of the appointment, Lindstrom asked the same question he always did: “Can I play football yet?”
He figured he’d get the same answer. Another year without football. Instead, doctors said the ultrasound showed his kidney had grown strong enough that he could participate.
“That day, it’s one of the few times I’ve cried of happiness, when I got told I could play,” Lindstrom said.
It was a combination of joy and relief, but it came with caveats. When Lindstrom played baseball, he wore a device equivalent to a quarterback’s rib protector to protect his kidney.
In football, they needed a different solution. Lindstrom and his parents found a small, black pad to go over his kidney — he jokes it’s not a great look because it goes right over his love handles — to offer necessary added protection.
Early on, he forgot it once. His dad noticed, pulled him off the field in the middle of a baseball game. The message was clear: No protection, no play.
“It was nonnegotiable,” Chris Sr. said. “You got to take care of it.”
Every day in the Falcons’ locker room, it’s there: A small pad, right over his kidney. By now, it’s part of his routine. His father made sure of it.
A FEW MONTHS after the Falcons selected Lindstrom with the 14th pick of the 2019 draft, Dawn was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.
The family rallied around their matriarch, with Lindstrom leaving the team between training camp and the start of the regular season during his rookie year to spend some time with the family.
For two years she fought. Lindstrom took in-season trips home. On multiple occasions over the two years, Falcons owner Arthur Blank offered his private plane to help Chris and his girlfriend — now wife — Madison get back to Massachusetts.
During the 2021 season, Dawn’s health worsened. The Falcons told Lindstrom he could take whatever time he needed to be with his family. Dawn told her son she wanted him to keep playing. He returned when he could — often going back on Mondays and Tuesdays at the encouragement of then-Falcons coach Arthur Smith, who excused him from meetings and practices without question.
đź“ą Boston College’s Chris Lindstrom getting the call from the @AtlantaFalcons they they were selecting him with the 14th overall pick in the 2019 #NFLDraft @Big_Fish75 @BCFootball @BCEagles #WBZ pic.twitter.com/FtgqBTEkYl
— Joe Giza (@JoeGiza) April 26, 2019
Madison stayed back to help out. They were apart for a month — Madison helping at home while he navigated an NFL season. He called daily to check in on his wife and his family.
“He definitely is a rock for his family,” Madison said. “He has an older brother, but being one of the eldest boys, it kind of falls on you, and he was kind of that support system for the rest of his siblings.”
Two days before Dawn died at the age of 56, Lindstrom played in San Francisco and then flew to Massachusetts to be with her. Lindstrom stayed to mourn — and then played against the Detroit Lions that Sunday.
A week later, the Falcons played in Buffalo. The Lindstroms were there, but instead of returning to Atlanta with the team, Chris piled into a car with his family and drove 6½ hours home to spend a few more days with his father and siblings.
“They came to the last two games after she passed away,” Chris said. “And then going forward, it’s just an incredibly supportive environment.”
CHRIS SR. SAID there’s an unspoken understanding. In everything they do — a small family chore, playing professional football or being out in the community — the same thought remains.
“It’s difficult now because we, everything we do, it’s like, ‘Oh, is this good enough for Mom?’ ” Chris Sr. said. “‘Would Mom be happy with what we’re doing?'”
In 2023, while in Hawai’i for annual NFLPA meetings, Lindstrom received a call from his agent, Bradley Blank. He was telling his client he was about to become the highest-paid guard in NFL history. Lindstrom signed a five-year, $105.2 million contract extension; his $20.5 million average per year is the highest for a guard in the NFL.
Lindstrom thought of his mom that day, of how much he wanted to celebrate with her and how proud she would have been.
According to Alec, there was a mantra Dawn pushed on her kids: “No matter what you do, you’re going to do it and you’re going to be the best at it. And you’re just going to keep going no matter what happens, whatever is going on, you’re just going to keep going.”
It was the thought process which helped Lindstrom get through the aftermath of Dawn’s death. It’s what kept him improving each year in football. Alec believes Chris plays in part for Dawn, her memory. What she instilled in him and taught him. From the moment he learned he could play — in that nephrologist’s office as a kid — until now.
It’s still difficult at times. He used to call her on his 10-minute drive to work every morning to say “hi” and get family updates, and it took a year to adjust to not having that conversation. On game days, he makes sure to have short conversations with Madison and his dad. In the moments before games inside the Falcons’ locker room, when the team goes into its prayer, Lindstrom uses that time to talk to Dawn and ask her to watch over him and everybody else.
Dawn never saw her son reach a Pro Bowl. When Lindstrom made the game for the first time after the 2022 season, he thought about what his mom would want. One of the hardest parts of a celebratory moment was not being able to share it with her.
So Lindstrom turned it into a family gathering. He brought his family to Las Vegas in 2023 and Orlando in 2024 to be together and to celebrate — to keep the thought of Dawn alive through one of the ways she supported him: sports.
“That’s kind of like a microcosm of that, one example of how she’d want us doing things together and celebrating things,” Lindstrom said. “Because that’s the way we’d always do it.”
