| This column originally appeared in The Journal on June 6, 2002. | ||||||
| It was an emotionally moving experience. In
the space of about three hours last Saturday, I watched thousands of people,
mostly women, walking, marching, for a cause. It was not one of those marches
where people walk a couple of blocks for the benefit of television cameras.
Nor was it the kind of 20-mile forced march that the military is famous
for. Although, come to think of it, the walkers were involved in a pretty
important fight. They were walking sixty miles in three days to raise money
for breast cancer research. Some of the walkers in the Avon 3-Day Walk were breast cancer survivors. Some walked in memory of loved ones or friends who either have, had or died from breast cancer. Each had to come up with at least $1,900 to take part. Some raised money through fundraisers. Some asked for donations. Others reached into their own pockets to secure their place. In all, if I heard the numbers correctly, over $5 million dollars raised last weekend for the Avon Breast Cancer Crusade went to cancer research and screening. I sat in the shade at Hull School in Livonia on Saturday watching as the walkers passed by. At that point, they were 36 miles into the walk, with sixteen behind them that day when passed by. They stopped to refill their water bottles. Hats were soaked in ice water to help guard against the sunny, 80-degree conditions. The walkers stretched their tired, sore leg muscles. They massaged and applied ice to their blistered feet. The medical tents would surely be full that evening, I thought. Dehydration, aches, pains, cuts, bruises, and, of course, blisters. The walk was no picnic. It was painful to raise that much money and painful to walk 60 miles, even for those who were in good shape. But you know what? I will bet that every last one of them would do it again. In America, we regularly give to our churches and to our favorite charities. When disaster strikes, we dig deeper. We buy Kiwanis Peanuts, Buddy Poppies and Goodfellows papers. At certain times of the year, we find Girl Scout cookies and "band candy" in our cupboards. Heck, we even give enough money to the guys with the "Will Work For Food" signs to ensure that they do not have to work. But when a cause comes along that we believe in, that we are truly passionate about, we give until it hurts. As I watched the walkers and their friends and family members on Saturday, I was struck by how important this particular cause is to them. This was no telethon. No one got them to participate by tugging on their heartstrings with stories of other people. Each of these people, the walkers, the crew and the volunteers, lived their own heart-tugging story. They willingly put up with a few days of pain and discomfort to help alleviate much worse pain and suffering for others, a pain they knew and did not want others to have to feel. My admiration for each of the participants is limitless. The closing ceremony on Sunday afternoon was moving, but in a different way. It was well choreographed with inspirational words and music to set the moods, keeping spirits up and tears flowing. Those things were largely unnecessary. One could see clearly the walkers beaming with pride through their pain because they accomplished what they set out to do. The families and friends who welcomed them back watched the ceremony through tear-filled eyes, remembering their own stories and reasons for being there. Through it all, it was a private sector company, Avon, that was behind this initiative. It was an army of volunteers and marchers who made it work. Once again, it was ordinary Americans working together to do something extraordinary. That is why this is the greatest country on earth. May God bless every one of you who walked, crewed, volunteered your time, donated money, held up a sign along the way, or otherwise provided encouragement to the participants in the effort to find a cure for breast cancer. It is because of you that a cure will be found. |
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