Wedertz Keeps Friends Hoping

It was a simple tree, a fragile young sycamore they gathered around Friday. They spoke of it as a symbol of life, a reminder of hope. A tribute to the human spirit.

This tree, they said, is dedicated to our friend.

His name is Darren Wedertz; he is a junior at Santa Margarita High. Last Nov. 6, he collapsed after making a tackle during a junior varsity football game. He fell into a coma and later was diagnosed as having leukemia. Doctors told his family only a miracle would see him through.

Today, Darren Wedertz is speaking and smiling. He is again joking with his friends. The fact that he has spent the last five months in the hospital doesn’t seem to faze him. Those who visit him--and there have been many--say they always walk away happier. Darren’s an inspiration, they say, an incredibly courageous kid. Nurses call him “Miracle Boy.”

Friends had a ceremony Friday for Wedertz’s continuing recovery. The quad area at Santa Margarita High was decorated with yellow balloons and yellow ribbons were tied around trees. Students were dismissed from class at 1 p.m., everyone gathered around. A video camera captured the event for Darren, still too weak to attend. The Eagle marching band stood ready to play.

“Today is a day to celebrate,” Msgr. Michael Harris, the school’s principal, told the crowd. “Darren is getting better.”

The students listened to words about courage, life and love. They were reminded of the importance of facing up to challenges, no matter how daunting. Darren, they were told, is a role model for all of us. We can all learn from his example.

Apparently they have. The student body raised nearly $10,000 to help with Wedertz’s hospital expenses through “A Change For Darren” drive started by a group of students’ moms. Coin buckets were placed around campus; students were asked to give what they could. At Friday’s ceremony, football players presented Charlene Wedertz with Darren’s varsity letter jacket. She put it on and it engulfed her. She accepted a shovel and dropped some dirt at the base of the tree dedicated to her son, as did Darren’s sisters, Julie and Breezy, and Margaret Uranga, his grandma. A bunch of yellow balloons were released to the sky.

Teen-agers tend to think they are indestructible. Tragedy, in some teen-agers’ minds, is not getting a new car on their 16th birthday. Friends of Darren Wedertz now have a new perspective. One classmate told her parents and relatives for her upcoming birthday she wanted no presents. Please just put a donation in one of Darren’s coin buckets, she said.

Mike DeFries, a friend of Darren’s on the junior varsity, was with Wedertz when he collapsed. They were playing Newport Harbor. Darren had just tackled a player; the player remained lying on the field as Darren made his way back to the huddle.

“We were looking back at the Newport Harbor guy,” DeFries said. “And Darren said, ‘I bet that guy’s in a lot of pain because my head’s hurting right now, too.’ That was it. That was the last word he said to me.”

Wedertz was rushed to a Mission Viejo trauma center; his leukemia was diagnosed five days later. He was airlifted to Children’s Hospital of Orange County in Orange, and remained in a deep coma for four weeks. He gradually began regaining consciousness in February. About three weeks ago, he started to speak. His first word in more than four months came in a low whisper: “Mom.”

Wedertz, 16, is undergoing his fourth and final round of chemotherapy; he is still basically paralyzed on his left side. Although he initially lost 40 pounds from his 5-foot-10 frame, he has gained much of that back, despite being fed through a tube to his stomach. Every day, it’s another round of speech therapy and physical rehabilitation. Charlene, who is divorced, says Darren grabbed his physical therapist’s biceps recently and playfully called him “a wimp.”

His hospital room is filled with cards and letters; an autographed football jersey from his favorite team, USC, hangs by his bed. During the first few weeks, he had so many visitors--sometimes 30 or more at a time--hospital officials complained. DeFries said Wedertz’s first word to him after coming out of the coma was “Rush.” It was a musical request, DeFries said. And with the help of a portable CD player, he was more than happy to oblige.

Wedertz certainly hasn’t lost his sense of humor. Before he regained his ability to speak, he communicated via the secret Santa Margarita handshake--a jazzy little number that ends with both parties snapping each other’s thumbs. He never gets tired of get-well kisses from female classmates--especially when their boyfriends are watching.

Whether Wedertz is able to return to organized sports again is unclear. This is a boy whom doctors didn’t expect to come out of his coma, much less smile and joke with his friends. He is just beginning to walk--with guidance from his therapist, and the help of parallel bars. His older sister, Julie, hopes to have her brother at her May 22 wedding.

That would be the best, she says.