DIANE MAKAR MURPHY The rewards of being a Special Olympics 'hugger'

My teens both belong to Boardman High School's Key Club. Key Clubs are terrific organizations sponsored by Kiwanis Clubs to teach students about service, team effort and leadership. Those aren't the words in the Key Club literature; I made them up. They're the words I've come up with after seeing my children participate.
Frankly, I watch them with envy as they bustle off to assist with the American Cancer Society Relay4Life, recycle dormitory cast-offs at YSU or even wash walls for Sister Lucille. They've come home with stories of the MDA Lockup or of little TJ at the day-care center where a few of them help once a week.
On Saturday, I finally got to tag along with a handful of Key Clubbers as they volunteered at the Special Olympics. We had a great time.
For those who don't know, the Special Olympics is a year-round event that gives children and adults with mental retardation the chance to train and compete in 26 Olympic-type events. There is even a Special Olympics World competition.
Austintown Fitch High School served as the arena for area competitors Saturday, and was host for softball throws, 50 meter walks and runs, shot put and much more.
Handing out hugs
At 10 a.m., when we arrived, the track and stands were crowded with volunteers and athletes. Most of the volunteers wore yellow ribbons with the word & quot;Hugger & quot; because that's what a Special Olympics volunteer does. You hug with arms, words and a positive attitude.
The athletes had cards pinned to their backs with the events they had entered and their names. Many also had medals around their necks from competitions they'd already placed in.
More than a million people from 150 countries compete in the Special Olympics. Our event had about 200 entrants, sitting in the stands beneath small striped tents meant to stave off the sweltering heat, walking from event to event or competing. About as many volunteers stood by to assist and cheer.
I got to help at the softball throw, chatting with some athletes waiting in bleachers beneath a baking sun. The first thing you notice is more smiling faces than you've ever seen accumulated in one place. The next thing is that every introduction includes a first and last name. If you repeat just the first name, the athlete generally restates the entire name.
& quot;Hi, what's your name? & quot;
& quot;Ricky Hill. & quot;
& quot;Did you say Ricky? & quot;
& quot;Ricky Hill. & quot;
The best thing, though, is how quick to hold your hand they are, how happily they walk to their next event, how swelled with pride each becomes if you trouble yourself to notice his or her medals or ask what event has just been completed.
One story
Mary Beth was one of my partners. I read her name from the card on her back. What a lovely lady with an enormous smile. Using a four-legged cane, her right arm hanging a little limply, Mary Beth walked half the length of the track just to GET to her two events. I wanted to give her a medal for that painstaking journey in the 85 degree heat. Instead, she earned another, for slinging a softball several feet.
& quot;You did it, Mary Beth! & quot;
& quot;Yeah. & quot;
& quot;Should we go get your award. & quot;
& quot;Yeah. & quot;
& quot;What's your next event? & quot;
& quot;Yeah. & quot; And so on, with a melodious, excited & quot;Yeah & quot; the response to every question.
And if it weren't enough to see the faces on people like Mary Beth, Patsy, Rhea, Betty, Darlene, Victoria and Ricky Hill, I also got to see teens from several communities smiling, cheering and generally making an older person (me) feel a lot more secure in the future of our society.
What a great thing Special Olympics is. Next year, I won't wait for my kids to show me the way; I'll get there on my own.
murphy@vindy.com