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Shonda Schilling's Championship Cause

Reprinted with permission from Raising Arizona Kids Magazine (www.raisingarizonakids.com). By Lynn Trimble

Any parent would feel at home in Shonda Schilling’s family room.

A shirtless toddler traipses past, toy trains clenched in tight little fists. As he circles the coffee table, he sweeps off a pair of sturdy wooden candlesticks, enjoying the sound as they crash to the hardwood floors. The family dog, a 10-year-old Rottweiler named Slider, isn’t shy about snuggling up for a tummy rub. The fireplace mantle is strewn with family photos. A Dr. Seuss book sits next to the cordless phone. Although a magnificent chandelier dangles from the kitchen ceiling, you’re more likely to find pretzels and sippie cups in the pantry than champagne and caviar.

This is not “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.” It’s real life. And that’s what makes this Paradise Valley mother of three–who also happens to be married to Arizona Diamondbacks pitcher and World Series co-MVP Curt Schilling–most proud.

“We’re no different from anyone else,” she insists.

For months, sports fans have fawned over her husband and his role in the Diamondbacks’ World Series victory against the New York Yankees. Today, however, the relief this pitcher’s wife needs is a daddy who’s home on time to help deflect the persistent attentions of their energetic son.

Oh–and there’s something else waiting for the Sports Illustrated co-Sportsman of the Year: Slider lost a bit of his lunch on the steps of the porch.

“Curt’s taking care of that,” Shonda says.

Shonda, who was named for her mother’s best childhood friend, is humble and unassuming, with a gentle handshake and a warm smile. Though she is gracious about the attention her family has received since the World Series, she is adamant about not letting it change their lives.

She and her husband make a concerted effort to keep their family life as normal as possible.
“I’m happy to be an ordinary wife and mom, she says. “I never feel like I have to be more.”
“Ordinary” is not quite accurate because Curt isn’t the only champion in this household. For 10 years, Shonda’s tireless efforts have brought attention–and much-needed funding–to the plight of families affected by amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), or Lou Gehrig’s Disease. It is a progressive neuromuscular disease that in 1939 forced the premature retirement of the legendary New York Yankees first baseman, who played in a then-record 2,130 consecutive games.

ALS makes it increasingly difficult for victims to walk, gesture and speak and eventually leads to paralysis and death. Its cause is unknown and the cure remains a mystery, according to the ALS Association’s Arizona chapter, which works to heighten public awareness and provides patient and family support services, equipment loans and clinics. Nearly 5,000 Americans, most between the ages of 35 and 75, are diagnosed with ALS each year.

The Schillings got involved with the ALS Association in 1992, shortly after Curt left Houston to pitch for the Philadelphia Phillies. Shonda had recently given up her career as a television producer. Though she was committed to supporting her husband’s demanding career, she was searching for something more. She wanted her life to make a difference.
New Phillies players are routinely given information about ALS, the team’s primary charitable focus. The newly wed couple were introduced to Dick Bergeron, a man living with ALS. When they heard his story, they were both deeply moved.

Shonda imagined what it would be like to lose the ability to move or control her own body. She empathized with family members who must care for loved ones affected by such a devastating illness. “Imagine the thought of having to feed and change your own husband!” she says.

She told the Philadelphia ALS chapter that she was ready to take up the cause.

“I told them, though, that I never do anything halfway,” she says vehemently. “If I was going to get involved, I was going to do it all the way.”

For eight years, she did just that–visiting patients, family members and caregivers and developing public awareness and fundraising campaigns to improve the association’s services. When the Diamondbacks acquired Curt in the middle of the 2000 season, the Arizona ALS chapter became Shonda’s new home.

Shonda says she has no problem playing the “baseball wife” card on behalf of her cause, though in nearly every other aspect of her life she consciously avoids it. She’s willing to do anything that brings greater visibility to ALS.

When representing ALS at functions filled with VIPs, she says, “I’ll talk baseball with them for awhile. Then I say, ‘Let me tell you why I’m here.’” She has testified both locally and in Washington, D.C., to urge legislators to increase funding for brain research and programs for families living with ALS.

Her passion is genuine and convincing. She isn’t just raising money for people who suffer with this disease. She spends time meeting with them, encouraging them, comforting them and sharing their lives.

She and Curt even named their first child Gehrig. Now 6, Gehrig attends the neighborhood elementary school while his sister, Gabby, 4, attends preschool not far away.

As a board member for the ALS Assocation’s Arizona chapter, Shonda takes a hands-on approach to helping with a variety of events and activities. She’s been involved in planning golf tournaments, theater parties, walk-a-thons and one of her favorite projects, an annual fundraiser called “Say It With Flowers.” Last year, she was honored by the national association as recipient of the Laurence A. Rand Prize, which recognizes the courage, compassion and commitment of ALS volunteers, researchers, healthcare professionals and educators.

Shonda often devotes several hours a day to ALS advocacy. Like many moms, she takes to her computer at night, after the kids are snugly tucked into bed.

Curt is actively involved as well. He started his own program, “Curt’s Pitch for ALS,” during his first season for the Phillies and brought the tradition with him to Arizona: He donates $1,000 for each win and $100 for every strike-out. Fans also can make pledges based on Curt’s statistics. During the 2001 season, the program contributed a total $228,000 to help “strike out” ALS. The Schillings personally have pledged $250,000 over four years to the local ALS chapter.

“ALS is a conversation we have every day,” Shonda says. “Curt encourages me–he wants me to do what makes me happy.”

Working with ALS patients and their families has given the Schillings a balanced perspective.

“It reminds us that there are much bigger things in life than a bad baseball season,” Shonda says.

Lessons learned in the fight against ALS have served Shonda well as she faces health challenges of her own.

“I’ve had two stage twos,” she says casually, referring to bouts with melanoma skin cancer that have resulted in five surgeries and a newfound respect for the dangerous power of the sun. She is vigilant about minimizing her own sun exposure and protecting her children’s skin when they are outside.

Which is where 2-year-old Grant decides he wants to go–now. Shonda helps him find his tricycle in the garage and they head to the back yard. It’s a spacious, relaxing retreat. Their newly remodeled house–they’ve been in it only a few weeks–wraps around a large swimming pool and the grassy back yard features a soon-to-be-completed sandbox with construction-type digging toys. The family “trail”–a sidewalk hugging the perimeter of the yard–was a last-minute addition that offers “nature walks” and tricycle riding.

As she saunters beside Grant’s trike, Shonda talks about a new health issue in her life: During the World Series, she became pregnant with the couple’s fourth child.

The happy news was bittersweet because of a scare she faced during her third pregnancy. While carrying Grant, she developed a potentially life-threatening blood clot in her leg. She’s been on blood thinners ever since.

The medication is not safe for her unborn child, however, so Shonda has to protect her own health with twice-daily injections of a blood-thinning agent that does not pose a risk to the baby.

As she steps into the shade beside the soon-to-be sandbox, she laughs goodnaturedly. “I figure I only have to give myself about 360 more injections before I have this baby!” she says. She’s not complaining. For someone who’s witnessed the suffering she’s seen in ALS patients, her burden is one she’s more than willing to bear.

She may, however, make one small adjustment to her life after the baby is born.

“I’ve never had help (with the kids),” she says. “I always wanted to do it myself.” A fourth child just might push her over the edge, she says, admitting that it would be nice to have someone at the house during the day so she could escape to pick up her older kids at school without dragging the two younger ones along.

Schilling says she hopes her volunteer work will give her children a healthy, optimistic perspective about life. She involves them as much as possible in her mission. When her children were babies, she would lay them on the chests of ALS patients, offering the comfort of warmth and human touch.

“Just because they can’t move doesn’t mean they can’t feel anything,” Shonda says.
She often recruits her children to help with tasks like stuffing goody bags for ALS events.
She hopes that her children will embrace–rather than fear–people who are different. She hopes they’ll heed the advice her own mother gave her as she was growing up in a working class Baltimore neighborhood: “You’re no better than anyone else and vice versa.”
Schilling expresses frustration and a sense of urgency as she describes the slow progress being made in ALS research, treatment and funding. She hopes to inspire others to get involved. Arizona has the highest rate of ALS in the country, she says. With more than 500 current cases, there is plenty left to be done.

She’d like to help open more ALS clinics, find more funding for in-home care and do more to nurture the caretakers who devote so much time to caring for loved ones with ALS.
“You don’t need to have star status or a lot of money to make a big difference,” Schilling says. “There’s a place for everyone.”

Schilling encourages other busy families to offer gifts of time, talents or money to their communities. In the end, she says, volunteering is its own reward.

“I get back so much more than I give.”

Assistant Editor Lynn Trimble is the mother of Christopher, 12, Jennifer, 10, and Lizabeth, 8.