What’s a kidney between friends?

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What’s a kidney between friends?


Dan England
Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Every six months, they get together, the 15 or so who could have been the inspiration for “The Breakfast Club.”

The group all came from different backgrounds, but all of them had one thread. They all graduated from University High in Greeley, most of them in 1972.

They get together because they like each other. They get together to celebrate life events. And they get together, many say, mostly because of Ron Washington.

It was a senior class of a bit more than 70, and when your class is small like that, you don’t have the numbers to be snobby. So when Mike Walker moved to Greeley from Wiggins his sophomore year, and the country boy who worked on his parents’ farm since he was 8 felt out of place, the others noticed he could play a little football and took him in. And when Ron Washington moved to Greeley his junior year with his mother, it didn’t matter that he was the only black person in the school. He could play football, and so his teammates, such as Brad Lundstorm, took him into their circle.

But then high school groups dissolve, people go their separate ways, and in an era before Facebook, they become fond memories instead of lifelong friends. Right? Well, no, not this group, because Washington loves his friends and refuses to let them go.

Lundstorm fell out of touch with Washington, his college roommate, several times as he bounced around for many years, eventually becoming a district manager for Safeway. It would be a year, maybe two. But then it would be Christmas Eve, and his phone would ring, and there was Ron, wishing Lundstorm a merry Christmas.

So it went for many years, until last year, or maybe the year before, when Washington tracked down Lundstorm again, and the two talked, and they asked about each other’s lives. And Washington admitted that, well, things weren’t good. He needed a new kidney.

“Well, you can have mine,” Lundstorm said.

Washington refused to believe it, but then others in the group said that they, too, would donate a kidney. They, like Lundstorm, didn’t hesitate because of what Washington meant to them. He was the glue that kept their merry band of brothers and sisters together. They started those six-month reunions mainly at his suggestion.

Washington gave them rhythm and soul. He taught Lundstorm how to dance and made everyone CDs.

“He brought me from the country to the big city,” Walker said of Washington. “It was quite an education.”

In return, they slowed him down a bit, put some small town and maybe a bit of substance in that style. Walker even showed him how to artificially inseminate a cow, a story that still brings laughing tears at those parties. Walker, even today, can talk to the country and the city and feel at home in both.

So Washington, already on dialysis, made sure he could accept a kidney, and then, when doctors assured him he could, made peace with accepting his best friend’s organ. Lundstorm, who learned he was a perfect match, continued to push him.

“I just kept saying, ‘Are you sure?’ ” Washington said, “and every time, Brad said, ‘Yes, I’m sure.’ He’s a true champion.”

The operation will happen sometime this summer. Lundstorm plans to take a couple weeks off from work and spend a few days in the hospital. No big deal. Washington admits that a life without 12 hours of dialysis each week, something he’s done for two-and-a-half years, will seem a little like heaven.

“They say that when you hook in the new kidney, you can lose a ton of fluid in just a few days,” he said, with a slight glaze over his eyes. “It just starts right away, like hooking up a car to an engine.”

The group just got together for one of those parties, but a couple of days after the transplant, many say they will go to the hospital to visit, or maybe they’ll just throw another celebration, the ones they host now without a second thought.

They will gather once again to celebrate one of those life events: A gift from one of their own, a gift that should save the life of Washington, ensuring that their bond, and the parties, won’t dissolve through the years.

Staff writer Dan England covers the outdoors, entertainment and general assignment stories for The Tribune. His column runs on Tuesday. If you have an idea for a column, call (970) 392-4418 or e-mail dengland@greeleytribune.com.


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