Maricopa woman wins first battle against childhood cancer

When Alexandra Scott looks down from Heaven at the many people she has inspired, it’s a pretty good bet she’s also smiling approvingly at Diane Morrow, who has lived in Maricopa’s Rancho El Dorado since Alexandra died in 2004.

Morrow, a mother of three and a proud grandmother, was working full time in Billings, Montana, where she grew up, when she first heard about Alexandra – known to millions as the little Pennsylvania girl who, stricken with cancer, started a humble lemonade stand at the age of four “because all kids want their cancers to go away.” Alex died, at age 8, before Diane could meet her, but her influence and her determination have moved many people like Diane.

To date the charity the little girl founded in her front yard just a few years ago has raised more than $10 million for research efforts in childhood cancer.

And Diane, feeling she had more important work to do, left her full time job at a local company and decided to join the battle against the same disease that had stricken one of her granddaughters, Kelby, who lives in Seattle. Kelby, now age 8, had been diagnosed, like Alex, with neuroblastoma, a tumorous form of cancer that usually strikes children under two. Kelby was only 17 months old when her family got the news.

Today, family, friends and medical experts, who have admitted her cancer has, quite simply, disappeared, have dubbed Kelby “the miracle girl.”

“I decided to go where the people are,” Morrow said. She set up her first lemonade stand at Maricopa’s Stagecoach Days and another at the third annual Salsa Festival. “We exceeded our goal of $2,000 and were delighted,” she said.

Much of the credit, Morrow said, should go to a 10-year-old son of a friend of hers, Austen Pearce, whose unabashed enthusiasm clearly inspired customers. Austen was determined to help Diane meet her goal (and his own personal goal of $400). He has a friend, a buddy in his Cub Scout pack, who is gravely ill, and this fact may have helped personalize the effort for Austin.

The charity depends on individual donations rather than a fixed price for the lemonade. “People read the signs and the literature and they’re just so moved by the fact that kids are not only victims, but they are actively involved in the efforts to fund research,” Morrow said. “So what normally would result in a fifty-cent sale often yields $5, $10 or more.” She gave credit, too, to Bashas’ and Fry’s, both of which have donated lemonade and ice for her stand.

Morrow, a soft-spoken woman whose voice masks her verve for the mission she has undertaken, isn’t satisfied, naturally, with that first-time accomplishment. Plans are under way for her, with Austen’s help, to launch other efforts for Alex’s charity.

She and her husband, Greg, a construction engineer who hopes to join the Pinal County Sheriff’s Office, are also involved in the Make-A-Wish Foundation, the Phoenix-based organization that facilitates trips and other events for children dying of terminal illnesses.

As wish granters, the Morrows meet with children and their parents, document each wish and file the request with the foundation. Later, when wishes are granted, they are able to participate in the happy moment when a child learns his or her wish has been granted.

“It’s just so great,” Morrow said. “Recently, we were able to tell a 12-year-old boy in Ahwatukee that his wish for flying lessons had been realized.”

Morrow laughed when she described one wish a boy asked for, a trip to Hawaii. “We asked him why he wanted to go to Hawaii,” Morrow said, “and he said he wanted to go there so he could collect a bunch of coconuts to throw at his brothers.” He got his wish, or at least the first part.

Morrow lugged out a large poster board displaying the smiling but wan faces of no less than 14 local children whom they have helped realize wishes. One of the faces on the poster belongs to seven-year-old Zack Schumann, a Maricopa boy fighting for his life at Phoenix Children’s Hospital. “How could anyone deny these kids anything?” Morrow asked.

The loss of a child is a tragedy that most individuals cannot comprehend unless it happens to them, but that kind of experience is often what motivates people to act.

Just a few weeks after Morrow had turned over the donations from her fundraising efforts, Greg and Diane learned of the death of one of their three children, Bradley. “He was 26, and he was killed in a head-on collision in Montana,” Morrow said, in a low tone.

Photo by Joe Giumette