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Every hit was related to her work at theDenver Chronicle. I’d only read her columns about the hockey arena, and only in hard copy when someone from the team passed me a paper.
The column she’d written for today’s issue of theChroniclewas the first hit, and I clicked on it. There was a photo of her looking dignified in a green blouse and dark-rimmed glasses, her hair pulled back. It said, Eleanor Lawrence, Chronicle Columnist beneath the photo. I started reading, eager to find out about her opinions on things other than my team.
Teddy Jackson isa lot like other eight-year-old boys. He has some gaps in his smile from missing teeth. He loves swimming, popsicles, and hot chocolate. His favorite subject in school is science.
There are also some differences between Teddy and other boys his age. For instance, Teddy isn’t his real name. He’s been raised entirely in foster care because he was born with only a small part of his right leg. He’s endured dozens of surgeries. Like many foster kids, his greatest dream is to be adopted. And even though his foster family would sign the paperwork to make him officially their son today, they can’t, because bureaucracy is standing in their way.
You see, as a ward of the state, Teddy is covered by state medical insurance. As a growing boy with just one leg, he has significant medical needs, and he will continue to have them. And his foster parents have been told by their private insurance carrier that he wouldn’t be eligible for a new prosthetic leg for years, and that there are limits to the coverage even then.
To be clear, Teddy’s current prosthetic is very basic, because that’s what his state medical insurance covers. It hurts him to wear it for more than an hour at a time. His doctors are working on that, but in the meantime, he can’t run. He can barely walk. He spends most of his time in his wheelchair, cruising around the family home with his four-year-old foster brother giggling in his lap.
Teddy loves science because of all the surgeries he’s been through. Doctors and nurses have cared for him and explained how they help ease his pain and increase his mobility. His eyes gleam as he watches videos of robotic prosthetics recently developed by a Silicon Valley startup. The prosthetics are connected to brain stimulators that allow wearers to move their fingers or bend the knees of the prosthetics just by thinking about it. The latest and greatest comes with a high price tag, though. What Teddy doesn’t know is that his foster mom reached out to the company and explained Teddy’s situation. Would the company give him a major price break on the prosthetics he will need for the next decade, as he grows? Would they give this boy a chance to run? Most importantly, would they break down the only roadblock to his adoption? With his prosthetics not being an issue anymore, Teddy’s foster parents could and would immediately adopt him.
The company’s CEO responded, telling Teddy’s foster mom that he was deeply moved by Teddy’s story, and that yes, they would give the family a deep price break on Teddy’s prosthetics for the next decade. Instead of the full price of more than $750,00 to meet Teddy’s needs over the next decade, the company will do it for $110,000.
Teddy’s foster mom smiled sadly as she relayed the good news. She stays home with her two foster sons and her husband works in construction. That $110,000 might as well be $1,000,000.
“I’d do anything to get that money,” she said tearfully. “We don’t own enough to borrow it. I’m not giving up, though. He’s our boy and he deserves this. I started making and selling candles and I have $220 so far.”
The deck has always been stacked against Teddy Jackson. His birth defect was the reason his parents relinquished him to the system. Insurance bean counters behind desks have prevented him from being adopted by the only family he’s ever known.
You wouldn’t know about his adversity if you met him, though. He’s a bright, happy boy who makes the best of his situation.
His foster parents have been Teddy’s heroes his whole life, but right now, he could sure use another one.
There wasa line at the end of the column with Elle’s work email and phone number. I scanned the column again, stunned by the story she’d relayed. If I didn’t have a crush on Elle before, I sure as hell did now.
The bus turned into the arena parking lot and I took out my phone, dialing the number to Elle’s desk and entering her extension.
“Hello, this is Eleanor,” she said.
Did she have those glasses on? I closed my eyes, forcing myself to stay on task.
“Elle, it’s Ford,” I said.
After a moment of silence, she said, “Ford Barrett?”
“Yes.”
Another pause. “Okay, what’s up, Ford?”
“I’m calling about your column today. About the boy. Teddy.”
“Okay,” she said, a note of confusion in her voice.
“Hey, we’re just pulling into the arena for our game tonight, but I wanted to let you know—it’s covered. My team and I will pay the $110,000.”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely. There’s just one condition. I don’t want anyone to know it was us. It has to be anonymous.”
“Um…of course. Yeah, of course.”
The bus came to a stop and my teammates started gathering their things.
“My accountant will reach out to you within twenty-four hours about getting them the money,” I said.
“God, Ford.” She exhaled softly. “Thank you. This is so generous. It’s going to mean everything to him.”
