Don and Mike Rodgers:
Ronald McDonald House Charities of Memphis
I sat down with Don and Mike Rodgers and witnessed the power not just in saying but in KNOWING “I can.” They, along with wife and mother Bobbi, refused to accept defeat, defied the odds, and have permeated lives with their love and strength.
Don Rodgers has been a part of the Ronald McDonald House of Memphis before ground was even broken. He led efforts to build the facility and fund the organization and helped in bringing together the original Board of Directors. Don was keenly aware of what this facility would mean to families whose children were patients at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. It meant they would have a place to stay, just like he and his family needed a place to stay when they moved from Dallas, Texas so that his son Mike could receive care at this world-renowned hospital.
They spent five years in Dallas during which Mike relapsed twice following his initial cancer diagnosis and subsequent treatments. They relocated to Memphis in 1978 and shortly after moving into their new home, Mike relapsed for the third time. Don asks me if I know what the statistics of survival are for a young person who’s relapsed three times. I don’t. “Well, they’re pretty slim,” he says. Mike began his treatments at St. Jude and would go on to beat any statistics that may have applied to his situation: in 1981 he went into complete remission and has remained so more than thirty years later.
I learn that Don’s involvement in building the Ronald McDonald House of Memphis was very personal. “I saw the need,” he says, referring to the few occasions when he and his wife opened their house to families who were at St. Jude and had no place to call home for the duration of their stay in Memphis. Mike remembers those days and reflects on the friendships he formed with two of his peers who were on the same hopeful path to recovery. “They didn’t make it. Meredith, Bobby. Neither one of them made it through.” His voice quivers. He sits quietly after that statement and while Don continues to share about his commitment to and love for RMH I glance over at Mike, curious about what he’s thinking as our conversation continues.
They spent five years in Dallas during which Mike relapsed twice following his initial cancer diagnosis and subsequent treatments. They relocated to Memphis in 1978 and shortly after moving into their new home, Mike relapsed for the third time. Don asks me if I know what the statistics of survival are for a young person who’s relapsed three times. I don’t. “Well, they’re pretty slim,” he says. Mike began his treatments at St. Jude and would go on to beat any statistics that may have applied to his situation: in 1981 he went into complete remission and has remained so more than thirty years later.
I learn that Don’s involvement in building the Ronald McDonald House of Memphis was very personal. “I saw the need,” he says, referring to the few occasions when he and his wife opened their house to families who were at St. Jude and had no place to call home for the duration of their stay in Memphis. Mike remembers those days and reflects on the friendships he formed with two of his peers who were on the same hopeful path to recovery. “They didn’t make it. Meredith, Bobby. Neither one of them made it through.” His voice quivers. He sits quietly after that statement and while Don continues to share about his commitment to and love for RMH I glance over at Mike, curious about what he’s thinking as our conversation continues.
Our time is almost up and there is one question I have that’s been lingering, though I am hesitant to ask Mike. I ask anyway. “Mike, why do you think you made it against so many odds but your friends didn’t?” A commanding voice of strength breaks through his stillness. “Don’t say I can’t do something. If you do, nine times out of ten I’ll say yes, I can. And I’ll do it.” Don smiles with his response. “I used to be a football coach so he gets some of that from me.” Mike goes down a list of things he was told back then he couldn’t do- and did anyway. “They told me I couldn’t play soccer. Well I played. I was the smallest one on the team and the one you’d better watch out for.” They also told him what the average survival rate was for a young cancer patient who’s relapsed three times. “And here I am. So don’t say I can’t do something. I’ll show you I can.”