Highs & Lows in the Rockies

Christmas Eve in Aspen, Colo., and Andrea Jaeger will be alone, sitting by the phone, willing it not to ring.

Kids don’t die on this night, do they?

“There are times I just have to be by myself,” Jaeger said. “This is one of them.”

Christmas Eve in Aspen, and Jaeger will have the heat turned down in her cramped mountainside home to save money. The air will chill her pizza, maybe harden her toothpaste, and only amplify that phone.

Somebody will call with good news tonight, won’t they?

Christmas Eve in Aspen, and it is sometimes hard for the founder of the Silver Lining Ranch to look for silver linings.

Since this newspaper ran a story in August about the former teen tennis star and her camp for dying children in Aspen, Colo., the response from Southern Californians has been overwhelming.

Readers liked that Jaeger quit her glamorous sport to spend her days giving terminally ill children a place where they could take off their wigs, drop their shields, be themselves.

Readers liked that Jaeger ran five weeklong camps a year, even though she had no facilities, and maintained year-round communication with the children, often on a toll-free phone number to her house.

Readers liked that the camps where small--no more than 20 children a session. They liked that the staff consisted only of a few of Jaeger’s close friends, untrained counselors who navigated by heart.

And readers were impressed that Jaeger basically emptied her substantial savings account--including most of $1.4 million in her tennis winnings--to pull it off.

The story, headlined “Guardian Angel,” ran on the front page of this sports section, and Jaeger was soon inundated with checks, notes, prayers and a buzz that stretched to New York City.

From there, Wall Street financier Ted Forstmann recently donated enough money to begin construction of a permanent facility.

Jaeger heard the news while attending a fund-raising school. She screamed, excused herself, put her hand over the receiver, then screamed some more.

Then she went home, to her private phone, the one that handles a different sort of call.

Despite the dizzying heights to which Jaeger’s simple dream has taken her, she always ends her day with her hand on that phone.

The good thing about her toll-free number is that the children use it nightly to update her on their medical progress.

The bad thing is that parents use it when those children have died.

Nearly a month after hearing about the Forstmann donation, Jaeger spoke to the mother of a 16-year-old boy who had attended the July session featured in this newspaper’s original story.

His name was Ty McCradic. He was from Milwaukee. He had sickle cell anemia but, of all the people in that session, he looked the healthiest.

He even had all of his hair. Not to mention his confidence.

He was loud, brash, and announced he was too cool for any of the activities.

Jaeger quickly draped her arm around him and told him that he would be her special buddy. She poked him, prodded him, returned mock insult for mock insult.

Ty was soon playing tennis, riding horses, rafting, dancing, and laughing.

Before leaving for home, he wrapped his arms around program director Heidi Bookout and told her he loved her.

“This was Mr. I Don’t Care, suddenly writing sappy love letters to everyone,” said counselor Kevin Smyley.

Who would have thought that his mother would soon be calling Jaeger to tell her Ty had died?

“I thought of the donation we had just gotten, and about this boy’s laughter would never fill one of the rooms in our home . . . “ Jaeger said. “It was very difficult. The more we do, the harder it gets.”

Christmas Eve in Aspen, and Jaeger doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

The Forstmann donation means that construction can begin on a 15-room, 16,000-foot dream lodge on $5 million worth of land donated by longtime resident Fabi Benedict.

No more staying in hotels and breaking up nighttime rap sessions because somebody has rented that meeting room.

No more eating pizza in common areas outside those meeting rooms.

No more begging. No more borrowing.

“It’s like, all of these kids will own their own time-share in the Rockies,” Smyley said. “A place that can belong to all of them.”

That is, if the lodge is finished.

Jaeger has enough money only to start it. She is still working on the rest.

And the toll-free line keeps ringing.

The other day, she learned that Dawn Sellers, an 11-year-old girl with cystic fibrosis who recently attended the winter session, would be spending most of Christmas Day in the hospital.

Guess who will be hearing from Jaeger then?

Dawn’s brother Ryan, who suffers from diabetes, was surprised during the winter session with a birthday kiss from his idol, model Cindy Crawford.

But this not being about celebrities, Dawn had just as much fun.

“What they have there is real,” said Priscilla Sellers, their mother. “They’re not one of those groups who uses your name and problems to help in their fund raising. It’s like, Andrea and the team want to become a family with all these kids. It’s wonderful.”

Then there were the phone calls from Pam Thompson, featured in the original article, given no chance to survive her cancer.

She has been strong enough to attend the Silver Lining Ranch twice in the last six months, including the recent winter session.

Because of increased growth of tumors throughout her body, Thompson is having trouble breathing and said she is only “hoping” to return next summer as a guest counselor.

Until then, she must be satisfied to talk to Jaeger by phone.

Only, it is Jaeger who calls her.

“I’ll be sitting there having dinner and she will call, out of the blue, and just talk and talk,” Thompson said. “She’ll talk all this time about nothing at all. Just like, being there. It is cool.”

Jaeger would not sit still long enough for this update column if a thank-you could not be included to Southern Californians for their recent help.

“I was getting $5 checks from grandmothers, and $5,000 from companies,” she said. “The generosity of your area is inspiring.”

What she did not ask for was the inclusion of her address. But here it is anyway.

That way, her phone line remains free.

It’s Kids’ Stuff Foundation, P.O. Box 10970, Aspen, Colo. 81612.

By the way, with her chemotherapy treatments halted, Pam Thompson’s dark hair is growing back. She no longer requires the bandanna she made of colorful boxer shorts.

But Jaeger and the counselors made her feel so good about that look--Jaeger is even pushing Nike to consider marketing it--that Pam will continue to wear the bandanna indefinitely.

“You know, I’m doing all right,” Thompson said.

Christmas Eve in Aspen, and silver linings are everywhere.