Avon Breast Cancer 3-Day, October 11th-13th, 2002

(from a letter sent six months previously to over a hundred of my friends and family members)

This October, I've chosen to participate in a very powerful and significant event in the fight against breast cancer--the Avon Breast Cancer 3-Day.  Seven thous other people and I will walk 60 miles from Bear Mountain State Park on New York's Hudson River to Central Park in Manhattan.  Picture a tent city, cots, volunteer cooks, doctors, nurses, masseurs and cheerleaders!  At this point they are ALL strangers to me;  I'll take the first step of the walk not knowing a soul.

I've agreed to raise $1900.  I have committed to train for the event and even take two of my three annual leave days from my school schedule.  I'm willing to do something physically challenging bold about breast cancer in the name of my unseen sisters.  More personally, I'll be walking to celebrate the lives of two women who are fighting breast cancer and have dramatically shaped my life--Peggy Jacobson is the surrogate mother of my youngest son Thomas.  She and her husband Rod opened their home and hearts to him for two years as he finished high school in Idaho.  My gratitude to them is immeasurable.  Renee Johnson is my soulmate and one of the first friends I met in Princeton at my church.  She and her husband Sterling have adopted and raised five children.

Enclosed you will instructions for making donations.  I hope you will help me reach my goal!  Thank you in advance.




(from a letter sent to my contributors following the experience)

Just a note to thank you for your contribution to my recent walk with the New York Avon Breast Cancer 3 Day.  Over 6,500 participants earned over $9 million which should make everyone involved (including YOU) fell very very good.  Unfortunately, the wet cold weather forced the county health department and sponsoring hospital to declare the event cancelled upon completion of the first day of walking after several cases of hypothermia were reported and the forecast appeared bleak.  Very disappointing.  Participants had come to New York from all over the U.S. and several foreign countries.  Many walkers had completed other Avon walking events this year in other locations and were going for a "full set" record.  Everyone had sacrificed so much in the way of training and personal investment.

The two days I spent were unique.  I didn't see the same face twice!  Lots of new friends--each with a purpose for walking.  I met many survivors of breast cancer, several coping with it now, and even more walking in honor of someone loved and now gone.  One ex-Marine from Staten Island was walking for his wife Shelly who has battled the disease for nine years and is currently bed-ridden.  Buddy carries her up and down the stairs every day, cooks, cleans, drives a rig full-time, and parents two young children.  Buddy showed up in brand new shiny sneakers purchased the day before--no training--NO TIME to train.  One walker carried a memorial of pink shoelaced shoes full of flowers in a backpack on her back.  Countless walkers carried pictures and keepsakes pinned to their clothes.  Husbands walked for wives who didn't survive.  Adult children were walking for mothers, aunts and grandmothers.

We walked en masse along the Hudson River through Washington Irving-esque villages in a constant downpour.  The villagers watched from windows, held up signs of encouragement, and honked car horns.  One grandfather stood with his grandson and passed out Tootsie Rolls from a giant witch's cauldron as we walked by.  Mothers dressed their kids in Halloween costumes and stood them on porches to wave.  One middle school band serenaded us from a covered pavilion.  Nuns from a convent waved white handkerchiefs.  Another old geezer grinned toothlessly as he put on a corny little marionette show in an intersection, rain dripping off his nose.  At about mile 12 the whole event became surreal to me.  Even with rain gear we were all soaked through.  We just kept walking the full 20 miles becoming more quiet the longer we walked.  Periodically we stopped at refreshment tables or porta-potties.  Word was spreading that the health department of our destination city for that night had ordered the event be cancelled.

Once the day's walk was completed we were herded into and housed temporarily in two enormous tents--picture over 3,000 women in each--issued a mylar blanket in a vain attempt to conserve body heat, and subjected to about five hours of karaoke while we waited for buses to transport us back to our belongings and departure points.  Torture me with ANYTHING but karaoke!!!!!  I'd have WALKED back to NJ if they would have allowed it!  My adventures continued on into the wee hours with a late night shuffle through Manhattan, drenched by a passing taxi on 39th St. at about 2:30 A.M., shivering uncontrollably on the train home, and culminating with dropping something of value onto the train track as I disembarked in Trenton and fell into the arms of a waiting Jerry.  It took me awhile to regain my objectivity about the whole event, but I eventually did.  So for the price of seven months training and fundraising I have the T-shirt, a bag of Avon products, and some indescribable visual images and stories.

Thank you again for your constant encouragement and generous touch donations.  I am overwhelmingly convinced that the cure for breast cancer will be found eventually, and incredible women will live to add to the symphony.  In the meantime, we extend ourselves to one another daily in the attempt to ease the suffering we meet and move positively forward.  Love to you all.