Michael Jordan gave $10 million to Arizona’s best idea
As far as the rest of the nation is concerned, not a lot of good news comes out of Arizona.
Okay ... none.
Those of us who have lived here for a long time have come to accept it, to take the bad with the bad, and even to use it as a way to discourage those who might seek refuge from the frozen North, Midwest and East in our Sonoran paradise.
Or, as the great Edward Abbey, author of “Desert Solitaire,” put it, “In Arizona, the trees have thorns and the bushes spines and the swimming pools are infested with loan sharks, automobile dealers and Mafiosi. The water table is falling, and during a heavy wind, you can see sand dunes form on Central Avenue in Phoenix. We have the most gorgeous sunsets in the Western world — when the copper smelters are shut down. I am describing the place I love. Arizona is my natural native home. Nobody in his right mind would want to live here.”
That last part is true.
Still, every now and then a genuine “good news” story surfaces that should have Arizona as a major component but does not.
Simply because, Arizona.
That happened earlier this month when it was announced that NBA legend Michael Jordan, for his 60th birthday (Feb. 17), was making a $10 million donation to the Make-A-Wish Foundation, the largest individual donation in the organization’s history. Jordan has actively supported Make-A-Wish for decades.
In a press release Jordan said, “For the past 34 years, it’s been an honor to partner with Make-A-Wish and help bring a smile and happiness to so many kids. Witnessing their strength and resilience during such a tough time in their lives has truly been an inspiration.”
Make-A-Wish pointed out that Jordan first started supporting the organization in 1989, or roughly nine years
after the Make-A-Wish Foundation was created.
Which happened ... here.
In Arizona.
Yes.
Make-A-Wish was then – and remains now – Arizona’s best idea.
It began, if you’ve not heard the story, with a terminally ill 7-year-old boy named Chris Greicius.
The little boy’s favorite TV show in 1980 was called “CHiPs,” which featured two fictional motorcycle officers in California (Ponch and Jon). Chris longed to be a motorcycle cop.
That’s where a Arizona Highway Patrol officer named Frank Shankwitz comes in.
I spoke to him several times over the years, always about his experience with Chris and what followed. He was a lovely man. He passed away in 2021 at 77.
Hearing about Chris’s dream of becoming an officer, Shankwitz, along with Chris’s mom, Linda, and other officers and staff at the Arizona Department of Public Safety, decided to make his wish come true.
The group arranged for Chris to get a ride on a DPS helicopter. A few volunteers at a local tailor’s shop spent all night crafting a custom-made DPS uniform for him.
“He knew everything about what we did,” Shankwitz told me. “He knew about our equipment. He loved it. He even had his own toy motorcycle.”
One piece of the uniform Chris admired was the “wings” pin worn by motorcycle patrol officers.
“We got him a custom-made pin,” Shankwitz said, “and I got to deliver it to him in the hospital.”
Chris, who had leukemia, was unconscious when Shankwitz arrived.
“But it was the most amazing thing,” he said. “I’m pinning the wings on him and he wakes up. He looks at me and smiles and says, ‘Am I an official officer now?’ and I said, ‘Yes, Chris, you are.’ ” The boy died later that night. After his funeral, Shankwitz, Chris’ mother Linda and a few others wondered if they could continue the project they’d begun with Chris.
Imagine that, a mom living through the worst thing that could happen to her, yet managing to think of others. With little understanding of the process but lots of determination, the small group began what became the Make-AWish Foundation.
Shankwitz was its first president. He told me the first donation they got was from the manager of a grocery store. And it grew, and grew. Make-AWish now has 43,000 volunteers around the world and has granted more than 550,000 wishes.
“It’s amazing how this one little boy was the start of such a big thing,” Shankwitz told me. “He’s the hero in all this. He has always been the hero.”