Who We Ride For: Kathleen Baskin-Ball

Kathleen Baskin-Ball September 16, 1958- December 2, 2008

We'll continue our profiles of the people we ride for with someone who helped inspire the cancer-fighting side of our trip and the youngest person either of us personally knows to have been taken by cancer: Mia's childhood preacher, Kathleen Baskin-Ball. Here's what Mia had to say:

Most of us agree that charitable action should be an integral part of one's life. That its scope should be large, its motivations selfless, and its impact meaningful and wide-ranging. My dear friend and former pastor, Kathleen Baskin-Ball, epitomized this ideal.

She went straight from college to seminary, and in 1989 was recognized as a rising star in the Methodist world. But instead of seeking an appointment to a nice, cushy, high-profile congregation, Kathleen opened a new church called Nueva Esperanza in a poor West Dallas neighborhood full of recent Mexican immigrants. She spent six months in Mexico learning Spanish and when she returned she could preach to her congregation in its native language. She devoted herself to serving the youth and teen moms that composed much of her congregation and resisted Methodist officials' calls for her to switch churches. She preached and served and mentored at Nueva Esperanza for five years before being moved to Greenland Hills UMC, where I met her when I was 11.

Kathleen was a beacon of a woman. A wonderful orator with the warmest of smiles, I knew even then that she was someone special. And more than that, that something special worked within her and inspired her. When we first joined the church, my then eight year old sister, startled to see a female pastor after years at a male-dominated church, asked Kathleen, "so do I call you...pastoress?" Kathleen smiled at her and said, "No baby, you just call me Kathleen."

She spoke of God's love, often shouting out her signature catchphrase, "Glory Be!" Her style was wonderfully unorthodox: sometimes she would pick up a guitar and sing (she had a wonderful voice) and hymns were often accompanied by her dancing and keeping time with a tambourine. Her smile lit up the room and her hugs were given often and freely. I can't count how many times I left that church, even as a young teen, feeling full up to the brim with love. During her seven years at the church, membership doubled. The sanctuary had to be remodeled and expanded. When she left to share her gift elsewhere, we left the church. We tried out a few others, but none felt near as right. She spent the next seven years at a suburban church (Suncreek UMC) where membership tripled during her tenure.

Kathleen did all of the charitable things that pastors do: she led mission trips, taught bible studies, counseled church members, and preached on Sundays. But her biggest and most enduring charitable action, the thing that grew every church she touched and touched and changed every person she met, was her ability to connect with people and make them feel loved. As one church member recalled, "I have never known a pastor to love on everyone the way Kathleen loved on every person at Suncreek [the suburban church]. She called everyone by name and made every person that walked through the door feel special, just as God wants every child to feel. Kathleen was open, honest, funny, and made the most weary stranger feel at home and welcome."


While at Suncreek, Kathleen married and had a son. In January 2007, when her son was three, she was diagnosed with neuroendocrine carcinoma, a particularly lethal and unforgiving kind of cancer. She was diagnosed on a Saturday and was scheduled to begin chemotherapy immediately. Not wanting to miss preaching, she asked "How much would I lose if I started on Sunday afternoon? The church has to see me first. I can't disappear. That won't be healthy for me or the church." And so she preached that Sunday and was then whisked off to start chemo. She shared her diagnosis and her progress with her congregation and continued to minister to the very end. She missed only a single regularly scheduled sermon, sometimes preaching from a stool because she didn't have the strength to stand. On November 16, 2008 she preached all three services at the church.

Photo from http://freshphotography-em.blogspot.com/

In late November, after learning that a costly surgery would only add a month to her life, Kathleen chose to enter hospice care and opened her home to those who wanted to say goodbye. The line to her front door stretched down the street. One person who went to see her noted, "She wouldn't let fatigue get in the way of visiting with each person. Instead, she asked her husband to bring in the oxygen tank and she continued on." Another recalled, "When we saw her last week, it was she who was lifting our hearts and spirits - not us lifting her as it seems it should have been." To top things off, the Sunday before her death she baptized 35 babies.

She died December 2, 2008 at age 50. Her memorial service was attended by more than 3100 people - a testament to the staggering number of lives she touched.

When Kathleen was first diagnosed, she said, "I believe that God is healing all the time. What I won't try to put into a box is what that healing looks like...I think for God to be victorious in my life means that I will learn to live through this in a way that shows that love has the last word and love is victorious in the spirit of who I am, whether I get well or not." She was passionate, caring, selfless, and inspiring, and she left a hole in my heart when she left. But I feel so lucky to have had her in my life, even if only for a few short years. And I am convinced that love will have the last word.


If you'd like to write a profile of someone who has been lost to or is fighting cancer and have us publish it in our blog, please email us at ariknmia@gmail.com or leave a note in the comments. Please do the same if you'd like us to ride in honor or memory of someone you know.

Be well,

Arik and Mia

http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike

Yay for Craigslist!

In an attempt to distract herself from the 20 page paper she was supposed to be writing, Mia decided to putter about on the Dallas Craigslist in search of some funky finds. She ventured into the "General" section, and happened upon a wondrous gem: a Mountain Hardware backpacking sleeping bag! These puppies go for 200 bucks new because they're super light, super warm, and super comfy. This one, which had been used a mere 5 times, was offered for 60! And the seller was a fellow (Oak)Cliffdweller to boot! A quick email to the seller and a call to Arik's dad, who graciously agreed to pick the bag up, and we could cross one more thing off our gear list:

We've got 5 months till our tour, are more than halfway to meeting our fundraising goal (thank you!!) and are slowly getting geared up- it's starting to sink in that we're really going to do this, and it's awesome and completely terrifying!

Be well,

Arik and Mia

http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike

Riding with Lance

Though Cash Cab is usually my (Mia's) chosen biking distraction, I changed things up yesterday when I realized the Tour of California was on. The race marked Lance Armstrong's return to competitive cycling, and I was lucky enough to catch most of his ride in a heated time trial. Just for fun, I tried to match my cadence to Lance's and whoa do I know how he got such beastly legs- it was intense! At least now I have a barometer by which to measure my progress:

Doh! I've got a ways to go! I was huffing and puffing 10 minutes in, and was a sweaty, breathless wreck by the time the hour was up.

In other news, we are less than 10 bucks away from being halfway to raising $3711! We have been blown away by everyone's generosity, so a HUGE thank you to all of you!

As for prepping for the logistics of the trip, Arik and I have about three days of camping experience between us, and the longest we've ever ridden in one go is 12 miles. So when it comes to preparing for a 3711 mile bike tour, during which we plan to camp 6 out of every 7 days, we're big newbies. Plus we're having to equip ourselves from scratch, since we don't have years of accumulated camping/biking supplies to draw from, and those few haphazard supplies we do have are too bulky to carry on a bike. So we have a pretty extensive list of stuff we need to buy/borrow before the tour, and the order in which we've been getting it has been kinda funny.

So far we have:

2 bikes (these were pretty important)
2 insect repelling bandanas (obviously!)
2 sets of silverware
2 Camelbaks
1 waterproof jacket
Mini toilet paper rolls (courtesy of Arik's parents)
2 thermarests and stuff sacks (also courtesy of Arik's parents- they rock!)

Good thing we've covered the essentials- what more could we possibly need? :)

Be well,

Arik and Mia

http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike

Who We Ride For: Milton Potasznik

Milton Potasznik August 8, 1907- March 1981

We'll begin our profiles of the people we ride for with the first person Mia knew who was affected by cancer: her paternal grandfather, Milton Potasznik. Here's what she had to say:

My grandpa Milton died of Hodgkin's Disease in 1981, 4 years before I was born. My knowledge of the kind of life he lived and the kind of man he was has therefore been cobbled together from my father's memories and the memories of his family, along with old photos like the one above. My dad loved his father fiercely, and the smile he wears when he recounts memories of life with his dad has impressed on me that my grandpa was a pretty special man.

The circumstances by which he found himself in America are pretty special too. He was born in a small town in Poland. His town had just one telephone, which was located in the mayor's office. When calls came in, a runner set off to notify the recipient, who hastened to the mayor's office and took the call while much of the town stood around outside to listen in. On a more somber note, my grandfather suffered the anti-semitism that plagued Polish Jews. He came to the US alone when he was only 14, drawn by the promise of a country that rewarded hard work. After a stint in New York, he settled in New Jersey and embraced American culture, flying the American flag and learning English. It's no surprise that Joseph Conrad, a fellow Pole who mastered the English language, was his favorite writer.

He was hugely impacted by the anti-semitism he fled, and made sure his children never forgot it. As my aunt recalled, "my father coming from anti-semitic Poland and suffering the scars of anti-semitism always impressed on us (not too happily) that as Jews we had to be better. We had to know we would always be singled out because of our religion and we had to set a good example and excel at whatever we did. That was a lot for a kid, but I think it inspired a lot of my drive for better or worse. He was also fearless and always told me to not be afraid, and that I was to go up to whatever I feared and not run away. He often quoted T. Roosevelt: 'walk softly and carry a big stick.'"

My grandfather's family was hit very close to home by the Holocaust. A number of his cousins were killed, and 2 close family members of his, a husband and wife pair, barely escaped certain death. They were loaded onto a train and told that they were simply being relocated. In reality, the train was destined for a death camp. They sensed something was wrong, and escaped into a field in Czechoslovakia. After traveling hundreds of perilous miles on foot, they ultimately escaped to the US.

My grandfather's family cheated death a second time, this time with his help. His cousin lived in Germany and was in love with a German girl there, but because his cousin was a German Jew, they weren't allowed to leave the country. My grandfather was untouchable as a US citizen, so he traveled to Germany in the late 1930s to help them leave the country. While in Berlin, he saw Hitler himself give a speech on a street corner, and had his papers inspected by a member of the Gestapo. Whatever he tried, he couldn't help the ill-fated pair. Frustrated and forlorn, he stood on a bridge despairing his inability to help. Out of nowhere, a man came up to him and asked what was wrong. When my grandfather turned to the man, he realized he was a fellow member of the New Brunswick, NJ YMCA! He explained his problem, and the man told him he was some sort of high ranking official with the US Embassy. That 2 men from New Brunswick ended up on the same bridge at the same time in the same foreign country is incredible, and that one ended up being exactly what the other needed is pretty miraculous. The man from the YMCA pulled some strings and my grandfather's cousin and his cousin's soon-to-be wife were soon on their way to America.

My grandfather's patriotism inspired him to join the Army while in his late 30s. He shipped out during World War II and fought from Normandy to Munich in 1944. The picture at the top of this post is of him training in the Mojave Desert in 1942. Here is one of him in uniform in 1943:

He was shot in the back during battle, and returned home for a short stint before heading out again. He was, as my aunt recalled, "a fervent patriot, so loving the country that saved him from a death sentence if he had stayed in Poland. Our flag was always flying on July 4 and he was active in the 4th Armored Division Veterans Association."

During peacetime, he started his own clothing company. After a few years, he had to close it down, after which he was a leather cutter and later worked at a department store. He married my grandmother, Naomi Jura, when he returned from the war, and fathered three children: my dad, my aunt, and my uncle. Here's a photo from their early married days:

They each, in my aunt's words, "marched to their own drummer. Unfortunately they did not march too well together" and divorced in 1959. Still, as my aunt recalled, "they were both loving parents who encouraged their 3 children to do their best, accept who they were, find what they wanted to do and do it to the best of their ability- learning was cherished and fun!"

As for what kind of man he was, my aunt provided this rich summary: "my dad was a great storyteller, full of charm and charisma. He was handsome and social and everyone loved him! He taught all the kids in the neighborhood how to ride a bicycle. He was physically strong and walked on his hands and juggled and was very interested in the body and athletics and was a high energy mover. He spoke in a very soft voice and had a warm, gentle nature. In many ways he was more maternal than my mother- he could sew and make anything. He made leather jackets for me and my friends. He could even make shoes. He could also cook and bake and was very creative, loving to make all kinds of weird concoctions."

Though my two older sisters were very young when my grandfather died, he made an impact on them in the short time they shared together. My sister Annie, who was only 4 when my grandpa passed, recalled him this way: "I only have one memory of Grandpa Milton. When I was very young I enjoyed a tea party with him in our backyard. I made a mud pie, complete with dirt sludge icing. I remember the warmth of the sun on my face and his smiling blue eyes. He was so kind to me and my mother. He even pretended to eat a slice of my mud pie, which meant a lot to me since I was a sensitive kid. He asked for seconds because it 'tasted' so good. It made me happy."

Usually when people die before you're born, they have little if any place in your life. They are ghosts in yellowed photos, brought to life in a pained look on a father's face, or a quiet, whispered memory. But my grandfather has been a very real presence in my life. My dad taught me to pray for my grandpa starting when I could talk, and I see the day to day impact that his passing has had on my dad. My dad loved his father as I love my own, and the fact that we have that in common has always made me feel very close to my grandpa. I wish that cancer had waited a bit longer to take him away.


If you'd like to write a profile of someone who has been lost to or is fighting cancer and have us publish it in our blog, please email us at ariknmia@gmail.com, or leave a note in the comments. Please do the same if you'd like us to ride in honor or memory of someone you know.

Be well,

Arik and Mia

http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike

Fundraising Site Change

A quick fundraising note: our original Livestrong fundraising site is being rolled over to a different site for 2009, so please donate there, rather than on the original site.

Here's the 2009 site: http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike

If you already donated on the 2008 page, thank you! Your donations should appear shortly on the 2009 page.

Be well,

Arik and Mia

Training When It's 9 Below Zero and 3 O'Clock in the Afternoon

It's generally frigid in Ann Arbor from November to April, so biking outside isn't too appealing.

Here's what we do instead:



Here's Mia on the stationary bike. That's the actual bike she'll be riding on the tour. She and Arik got that cool little thing on the back wheel from REI, which turns her real bike into an instant stationary bike. She bikes 6 days/week for an hour each time. Her distraction of choice while riding? Watching "Cash Cab" on the Discovery Channel.


Arik works out 4 days/week at a crazy gym in Ann Arbor called Hyperfit. It's kind of like a boot camp, with lots of pull ups, weight lifting, sprinting, and rowing. One of their slogans is "our warm up is your workout," and from his descriptions of the class, that sounds about right. Arik also bikes twice a week for an hour each time. His distraction of choice while riding? Watching "The Big Bang Theory" on CBS.

Our setup is less than ideal, but hopefully we'll have built a strong enough base that we can jump right into pretty serious riding once we're back in Dallas.

Thanks again for your support!

Be well,

Arik and Mia

http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike

FUNdraising

If you're here, you're likely the victim...err...lucky recipient of our first fundraising efforts. Last night we emailed 250 people, among them family, friends, teachers, professors, people recommended to us by our parents, and long lost facebook friends. Overall it took about 3 hours, but the response has already been awesome. Mia's beloved 4th grade teacher somehow found out about our ride without being emailed, and was our very first donor! Thanks Ms. French. :) We thank all those who have emailed us encouragement, donated, and/or told us they'll be donating soon.

Be well,

Arik and Mia

http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike