Rolling Up His Sleeve and Giving

Donald D. Tucker is the kind of guy who, when asked to help save the life of a child he didn’t know, immediately saw red.

He’s been seeing that color ever since.

“I just think it’s an important thing to do,” said Tucker, a 52-year-old engineer in Oxnard.

What distinguishes Tucker from you and me has nothing to do with a hot temper.

He is among the county’s top blood donors, having parted with 14 1/2 gallons since his first stab at it 35 years ago.

“He is exactly the type of donor we’re trying to attract,” said Carolyn Tyner, a spokeswoman with United Blood Services in Ventura.

“We depend a lot on repeat donors. We need the kind of person who’s not doing it for any other reason than altruism.”

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Right now, the need for altruism is greater than it’s been in a long time. Last week, Tyner said the nonprofit blood collection agency’s reserves were critically depleted.

Type O blood was virtually gone, she said, and all other types were getting there.

Unless the reserves increase, she added, it’s possible the county’s 10 hospitals will be asked to postpone optional surgeries.

Tucker, who is well-known by just about every volunteer who has ever worked at the Ventura office, knows the situation can be a lot worse than having to reschedule a face-lift.

He saw that firsthand many years ago and has never forgotten it.

“The first time I ever donated was in 1957 in San Diego, when I was stationed there with the Navy,” he said. “Back then there was no United Blood Services and things were different.

“I was at the YMCA, and they came in and said they needed a donor with Type A for some 8-year-old who was having open-heart surgery. So me and some guys agreed to do it.”

After donating, Tucker said he and his buddies “got a steak dinner and 10 bucks apiece. Every sailor can use 10 bucks, and the steak wasn’t bad either.”

But that’s not what made him donate again and again throughout the years.

“After we donated, we hung around the hospital to find out how the kid did in surgery,” Tucker said. “He came through it with flying colors. I met him later, and it really stayed with me. That feeling of having helped someone never went away.”

What did go away are the steak dinners, the 10 bucks and other enticements.

At least that is true in Ventura County, where the only reward that can be offered to blood donors is an intangible one--the kind that a lot of people who are used to financial incentives don’t immediately flock to.

But the lack of incentives by the countywide agency are intentional.

“Some counties still have a credit system where you donate and then, if you need blood yourself, whatever amount is over that gets charged to you or your insurance,” Tyner said.

“Ventura County doesn’t do that. We don’t want anyone coming in to donate out of monetary concerns, or to encourage friends to donate who perhaps shouldn’t. It is strictly volunteer.”

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To get volunteers, of course, means getting a lot of people to first overcome some common attitudes, fears and excuses.

All of which, by the way, I readily provided to Tucker when he suggested that instead of just asking him a lot of questions, I also call up United Blood Services and make an appointment.

“The needles don’t hurt,” he retorted to what probably is a remnant fear from my childhood. “The people there do this all day long. They’re experts at not causing you pain.”

Well, uh, I have a very busy life that requires a lot of energy.

Losing a pint of blood would make me tired.

“You regenerate the blood so quickly,” he countered. “It’s no big deal.”

Next?

Well, there also is that matter of my very packed schedule.

You know, I really don’t have a lot of time and, uh, I have to go wash my hair.

“The whole thing takes about 30 minutes,” he said. “You’re saying you don’t have 30 minutes?”

It came as absolutely no surprise to learn that Tucker regularly has gotten involved in blood drives, encouraging people throughout the county to roll up their sleeves for a good cause.

Perhaps there is a child needing surgery, he tells them, or someone else whose life will depend on it.

Even, he reminds them, their own one day.

But the most important reason is the feeling of having done something important, he says.

Of having given something that can’t be purchased in a pharmacy or invented in a test tube.

It beats a steak dinner, hands down, any day.