Tales of struggle, survival, and a thank you to my readers
There is one star in Sparks, Nevada – Reno’s twin sister city – that shone brighter than others.
Richie Shannon wast just nine years old when he was diagnosed with rhabdomyosarcoma in October of 2000. A young boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, he was not just the picture of health but a nigh caricature of the all-American boy. Known for his enduring optimism in the face of overwhelming odds, Richie amazed his family and friends in his struggle against the disease.
After fighting off the disease twice, Richie was eager to give back. While children who did far less to deserve the three-month annual summer vacation bestowed upon them were playing video games and spending their days dreading their return to school, Richie was on mission trips for his local Church, assisting in the construction of homes for the needy. During his second Summer of giving back, he was in the midst of his third remission. He fought valiantly and bravely, never giving in to despair or the sense that he couldn’t give back in some small way.
He died later that year on Thanksgiving Day at the age of 15.
Reading his story remind me of that of another child, who at the age of twelve was diagnosed with the same form of cancer in the throat. Her prognosis was grim, and she went through a long and arduous process of treatments, wigs, and a struggle to maintain some semblance of a childhood. Even when it appeared the cancer had gone, she was informed that the treatment would most likely result in her being unable to have children.
My sister Davelyn is now in her fourth decade (for her sake I’ll leave it at that) and is married with four children. She gives back in her role as a nurse at St. Margaret’s, a facility for infants, children, and young adults that range from disabled to terminally ill. She also carries with her a demeanor free from the overwhelming cynicism and sarcasm that is so prevalent amongst her siblings, including yours truly.
It is for these reasons and others that I consider her a role model in many aspects, and also why I’m participating in St. Baldrick’s this Sunday, April 10th at 2:00pm at Savannah’s in downtown Albany.
It may be foolish to put faith in the possibility of turning every story of a Richie into that of a Davelyn, but St. Baldrick’s does just that with its efforts to raise funds and awareness for childhood cancer research.
Yesterday, you readers made another step towards achieving that dream when you helped us surpass our goal of $1,000.
For that, and on behalf of my family and all those others that have had children battle rhabdomyosarcoma and other forms of cancer, I thank you.
That said, there’s still a need and you can still give HERE.
Now, with all that out of the way, come see me get all of my beautiful, gorgeous hair shaved off. There may be a Gorbachev birthmark at the tip of this skull, or at least that’s what my mother told me the one time I considered shaving my head. There’ll be raffle prizes, giveaways, bands, and more. It should be a ton of fun. I ask that you join us, particularly those of you who gave, so that I can thank you in person.
KEVIN MARSHALL LOSES HIS HEAD…OF HAIR
for ST. BALDRICK’S
- Sunday, April 10th 2011 @ 1:00pm
- Savannah’s The Dublin Underground (1 South Pearl Street, corner of South Pearl & State Streets)
- http://www.stbaldricks.org/participants/KevinMarshall
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What a wonderful story. Thank you so much for supporting this wonderful organization. My Uncle was a huge St. Baldricks supporter and knowing that someone like you is continuing where he left off brings tears to my eyes. Good luck on Sunday! Remember it’s only hair and it grows back!
You know that I am loathe to see your hair go but, it is of significant comfort to know that, while your hair dies, it does so with honor and purpose. Giving its life for a greater good is really the best any hair could hope for. All hair dies…but how much hair truly lives?
Good show!
-gen
That story was thanks enough Kev, nice work!