ARCHDEACON: ‘LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE’ STILL HELPING OTHERS
There could not have been a more touching moment at last year’s U.S. Air Force Marathon.
After a pre-dawn chemotherapy treatment and then over six hours and 26 miles of grueling competition — interrupted twice for mid-race medical procedures and once for a check-up by a paramedic — 23-year-old Caleigh Hildebrandt was scooped out of her Burley jogging stroller by her tearful dad and carried across the finish line.
Nearby, her mom, Bonnie, was awash in tears and pride.
Caleigh’s older brother R.J. and two aunts — all of whom had run along with Randy Hil- debrandt as he pushed his daughter’s stroller the length of the course — struggled with
their emotions, as well. And all along that final corridor of storied old planes that lead to the finish of the race, people cheered for Caleigh. Some chanted her name, oth- ers held signs, including one large Team Caleigh banner that sported her photo and the motto “One Mile at a Time” that had fueled her and her dad.
“That moment when I picked Caleigh up and we crossed that line together,” Randy recalled a couple of nights ago, his voice
breaking, “that was one of the most special times I’ve ever had in my life.
“And when she got her medal, she looked at me all excited and said, ‘Dad! Dad, I got first place!’ And I said, ‘Absolutely Caleigh. You’re always in first place.’”
Right then, the father and especially the daughter decided their glorious moment had to be recaptured again a year later. And so they planned to compete in Saturday’s USAF Marathon.
Never mind Caleigh’s spina bifida, the birth defect that has caused spinal and brain fluid problems and left her confined to a wheelchair and in need of 30-some surgeries over the years.
And never mind the cancer diagnosis — stage-four carcinoma that had spread to her liver, bladder and spine — that came out of the blue just two weeks before last year’s race. And forget all the chemo sessions since.
Caleigh planned to compete this year. Nothing anyone said could deter her.
The Bellbrook High School graduate didn’t just have a positive attitude, her outlook was absolutely sunny. It almost always is.
That’s why she was dubbed “Little Miss Sunshine” by Pat McGohan, the founder of the McGohan Brabender company where she has worked part time as the specially-designated CHO — Chief Happiness Officer — bringing cheer to fellow employees.
The nickname was catchy and her rep was well-deserved. It was embraced not only by last year’s marathon crowd, but by a far larger audience online.
“Caleigh touched so many people,” Randy said. “I have text after text, letters, phone calls, people coming up to me in my office (at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base), people from Germany, all across the U.S. and they all tell me how Caleigh has inspired them in their own trials.”
Folks weren’t just moved by what she’d done last year, but why she had done it.
A few years ago she had received a Special Wish trip to Florida and now she wanted to pay that kindness forward. She had made her marathon a fund-raising event to benefit sick and disabled kids with wishes of their own.
Her dad said she raised $30,000 last year, all of which went to the Dayton chapter of The Special Wish Foundation.
This year she hoped to do more and that explains her Jan. 2 outburst.
“It was 10 minutes after 9 in the morning and Caleigh hollers from across the house,” Randy said. “I thought, ‘Oh boy. She’s throwing up or something from taking all the chemo.’
“But when Bonnie and I hurried over there, no, she was fine. So I go, ‘What’s going on?’
“And she says, ‘Dad, we’re 10 minutes late!’
“Registration for the Air Force Marathon always opens at 9 a.m. on the very first business day after the New Year’s holiday and this was the day. So she goes, ‘C’mon, we got to sign up! We’re gonna do this, right?’
“I said, ‘Caleigh, do you think you can do it?’ And without hesitation she said, ‘I can do it. Do you think YOU can do it?’
“I swallowed hard and said, ‘If God gives me the strength, we sure are.’”
And so — even as Caleigh battled her unrelenting cancer — the pair went on training runs near their home.
But then came late July and her health plummeted. Her lungs quit working, pneumonia set in and in the wee hours of Aug. 6 she was rushed to the hospital. She’s been there ever since.
Today is her 42nd straight day in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Medical Center.
Although she’s finally conscious and no longer intubated, she’s on oxygen and still can’t swallow, move or speak, her dad said.
And with an explanation that he’d give later, he promised:
“She’s still going along with me in the marathon this year.”
‘Doing God’s work’
With Randy retired from the Air Force and now working as a civilian employee at the base, the Air Force Marathon became an intriguing challenge for Caleigh and her Special Wish campaign.
But she was nearly knocked out of last year’s competition, as well.
First there was the devastating cancer diagnosis. Then just four days before the marathon, she had an adverse reaction during her first chemo session and went into a 40-minute seizure.
By the time race day rolled around few people thought she’d compete. She had been on morphine morning and night for her pain and already had undergone five chemo sessions. And over those 26.2 miles, they worried how she’d cope with the heat, the stress and jarring around in that stroller hour after hour. She refused to be sidelined. She said she had to do it for all the other kids in need.
“If there’s an angel on this earth, it’s Caleigh,” her dad said the other night as he sat at her bedside in the ICU. “She is here for a very special reason. She’s doing God’s work.”
And some of that effort is scheduled to be revealed Sunday — a day after the marathon — when the Special Wish chapter in Dayton announces one of the recipients of Caleigh’s fund-raiser.
“They found the perfect wish for Caleigh to give,” Randy said. “There’s a new Disney character, a Hawaiian princess (Moana) and there’s a family with a sick little girl who wants to be that character. So Caleigh is sending the family to Hawaii for a week.
A world of impact
Last Saturday Randy faced a dilemma.
“I had a talk with Caleigh,” he said. “I said, ‘Next week is the race, but I just don’t know how I’m going to get you there. I don’t know if they’ll let us out of here.’
“And just like Caleigh does, she gave me the eye. She can’t speak now, but she can communicate with her look and it told me she would have nothing to do with what I’d said.
“She finally closed her eyes and that’s when a tear squeezed right out of the edge of one eye.
“I looked at her and said, ‘Caleigh, you’re such a strong fighter. I’m so proud of you. Come race day you’re going to do it with me.’”
While she won’t be there physically, he said her presence will be with him.
“I’ll wear my race bib on the front and hers on the back,” he said. “My brother’s going to follow us on the course. He’s one of those technical guys and he’ll do everything he can so Caleigh and her mom can follow the race on her computer with FaceTime.
“People all over the planet now are waiting for Miss Sunshine to run the marathon again, and in her own way, she will.”
Seeing how hard his daughter fights to stay alive and knowing all the good she’s doing, Randy admits there have been private moments when he asked: “Why God? Why Caleigh?”
He said: “God has answered me back. He’s given us peace in this terrible storm. He’s let us know that Caleigh’s in His hands.”
The Hildebrandts are hoping to get Caleigh back home soon, but they know it will be a challenge.
“She’s gone through three lines of chemo and the doctors really don’t have anything else,” Randy said quietly. “But I believe this is not her time to go. I’ve wrestled with that as you can guess. I say, ‘God we’re not burying her, not yet. She still has work to do. It’s the most incredible thing.”