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| First Person: Point of View | |||
| Superwoman
Dana Reeve 10/01/2005 |
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Dana Reeve began her career as an actress and singer, but the riding accident in 1995 that left her husband, Christopher, paralyzed from the neck down turned the couple into nearly full-time philanthropists. It also made them persevering advocates for research on medical applications for stem cell research, a technique that shows potential as a treatment for paralysis. When Christopher died in October 2004, she took his place as both chairman of the foundation and the public face for the cause. Christopher and I met in 1987 at the Williamstown Theater Festival in Massachusetts. There is a late-night cabaret where performers can go up on the stage and sing. I sang The Song That Makes Me Dance, and Christopher came up afterward and introduced himself. We started dating that summer. We used to both be involved more in environmental issues and the Creative Coalition, which is a lobbying group of artists for First Amendment issues, arts advocacy and such. However, had Chris not had his injury, it is unlikely that we would have ended up being so devoted to a foundation that is looking for a cure for paralysis and trying to improve the daily lives of people. I certainly didn’t expect to be doing this, especially in such a narcissistic profession as acting, where it’s always about me, not about you. Right after Chris’s accident, people started sending us money. We didn’t feel right keeping it for his medical expenses because we had the insurance and the financial wherewithal to cope with this, so we decided to establish a foundation. We wanted it to be bigger, so we aligned it with the American Paralysis Association (APA), which was a small family foundation in Short Hills, N.J., started by a man named Hank Stifel, whose son Henry was injured in a car accident when he was 17. We now call it the Christopher Reeve Paralysis Foundation. We have put a lot of our own money into it, but from the start, we also raised funds, because the more we had, the more we could do. Chris’s face—and his celebrity— generated interest. People could identify with this almost mythic story—how this handsome, athletic movie star who played Superman had fallen. It had the makings of a Greek tragedy. When he talked to scientists, they would be eager to get back to their labs and try to be the one to find the cure. I think that people saw me as the caregiver,
so it has been something of a challenge to switch into the chairmanship,
stepping in and [continuing] Chris’s mission for him. I don’t have ambitions to
be perceived as the powerful, strong leader of the foundation. I just want to
get the job done. I do want Chris’s legacy to carry on because he worked so
hard. The work was so important, and his daily life was really difficult, so it
would be a terrible shame to let it drop.
Our new CEO, Kathy Lewis, used to run the Kessler Foundation at Kessler Institute. She brought in a lot of money there, and she also has great vision. We have Peter Kiernan, who for years was at Goldman Sachs, and Janet Hanson, who is a dynamic businesswoman. Sheila Johnson, the head of Black Entertainment Television, is such a powerful person in business and philanthropy. We also want to bring in some celebrity friends to give the board some juice. The first one is Robin Williams. He started talking up our initiative on his own, while doing press for a movie. Prior to joining our board, our newer board members had nothing to do with spinal cord injury, and they have no family members with spinal cord injury. They just think this area of medical research is an exciting field. Joan Irvine Smith [a
philanthropist who is the great-granddaughter of California pioneer James
Irvine] is not on our board, but after Chris was injured, she saw him
interviewed on television. He was in the rehab center at the Kessler Institute,
and they set up a room with a phone for all the calls we were getting—literally
everyone from people who said they had a cure and healers to families and
well-wishers. A dear friend, Michael, handled the messages, and he showed us one
that said, “Mrs. Smith, California, wants to give you $1 million.” We put her in
the kooks pile at first. She loves it that she was in the kooks pile. But
Michael called her back, and sure enough, she’s such a horsewoman, she said,
“Chris didn’t say anything bad about his horse, so I want to give you a million
dollars.” She used it to establish the Reeve-Irvine Research Center at the
University of California, Irvine. |