Rodney and Aaron Meet at Last

Aaron Blumenthal couldn’t sleep the night before. Neither could Rodney Anderson.

The circumstances of this Wednesday night meeting between a 6-year-old second-grader from Cypress and a 19-year-old paralyzed former basketball player for Cal State Fullerton were marked by tragedy.

But when Martha Anderson, Rodney’s mother, hugged Melanie Blumenthal, Aaron’s mother, and said, “Your little boy has touched our hearts so much, he has really touched our hearts,” the horror of March 2 seemed a little less tragic.

It was on March 2 that Anderson, a freshman on the Fullerton basketball team, took advantage of a day off from practice to return to his Los Angeles home and visit his family.

A little after 6 p.m., while standing two doors from the home where he grew up, Anderson was shot three times in the neck and arm when a gang member mistook him for a rival. According to Anderson, the shooter apologized and said he’d shot the wrong man. Curtis Vaughn, a 24-year-old from Los Angeles, has pleaded not guilty in the shooting that left Anderson a quadriplegic.

On Wednesday night, Anderson was honored at a dinner before a Cal State Fullerton exhibition basketball game and at the halftime ceremony. Anderson was also introduced with his teammates as a co-captain and sat in a wheelchair on the sidelines next to new coach Donny Daniels to watch the Titans win, 60-43.

The proceeds of the game against Simon Fraser University were donated to the university-run Rodney Anderson Medical Assistance Fund. More than 1,000 people attended.

Anderson’s plight has struck a chord with residents across Southern California, triggering an outpouring of emotional and financial support.

A story in Sunday’s Los Angeles Times chronicled his struggle to recover. This week alone, $12,000 was donated to the fund, bringing the total to more than $42,000.

Also on Wednesday, the Anderson family, through an anonymous donor, was given a new, handicap-adapted van. Anderson’s family had struggled to transport him to and from rehabilitation sessions in a Volkswagen Jetta. As part of the halftime ceremonies, the Andersons were offered the loan of another van, a loan the family was now happy to decline.

But the most emotional moment of the evening had come earlier during a dinner at the university alumni house where Rodney Anderson and Aaron were introduced.

Richard and Melanie Blumenthal, Cypress pediatricians, had told Aaron of Anderson’s story in the hopes of showing their little boy the evils of guns. His parents had feared that Aaron, who wears a red cape whenever he isn’t at school and a cap with an ‘A’ on it to emulate the super heroes he so admires in his video games, was becoming too enthralled with toy guns.

Ever since, Aaron has sent Anderson hand-drawn pictures and donated his allowance to the fund.

Wednesday night, the pair met for the first time.

“He’s been counting the days, the hours even,” Melanie Blumenthal said. “He could hardly wait for this night.”

Aaron presented Anderson with a framed picture of a boy playing basketball and the words “He shoots, he scores. Dear Rodney, I’m so excited to meet you because I like you. Besides, I like basketball. I hope you feel well. Your best friend, Aaron.”

He also gave Anderson a scrapbook of best wishes from his second-grade class at Weaver Elementary in Los Alamitos.

With hands that are weak but getting stronger with every therapy session, Anderson accepted the gifts and gave Aaron a hug.

Martha Anderson wiped away tears.

Her son, she said, had asked to go to the mall Tuesday. It was the first time since the shooting that Anderson had been excited enough to want new clothes.

“He wanted to do it himself,” Martha Anderson said. “He went from store to store until he picked just the right outfit.” He wore a black and gray sweater, gray slacks and gray boots. He also wore a smile, something Martha Anderson hasn’t seen much of lately.

Earlier in the week, she had received a phone call from Louie Aguilera, the detective who has been working on the case. He asked for the measurements of her son’s wheelchair and for his height while sitting in the chair. Why, she asked. A surprise, Det. Aguilera told her.

Wednesday morning, Martha Anderson found out why. The family was asked to come to the police station. “Detective Aguilera told me that an anonymous donor, a lady, was giving us a new van that was already adapted for Rodney. We had to come down and sign the papers. I can’t believe it.”

Martha Anderson and Rodney Anderson’s oldest sister, Glenda, have had the burden of carrying Anderson in and out of the Jetta. Wednesday night, the automatic lift in the van lowered Anderson’s wheelchair to the ground.

Anderson’s father, Joseph, had to wipe away tears as he spoke of the difficulties of the last nine months and of the kindnesses the family has received.

“I always told my kids, ‘No gangs or I’ll be the gang.’ What’s wrong with somebody who can’t find anybody else to shoot but some child who is going to school?” he said. “I don’t want to hate anybody, but when you hurt my family, you hurt me.”

It was with amazement, though, that Joseph Anderson saw the drawings which kept coming to the Anderson home. “I couldn’t believe it when they told me that was by some 6-year-old boy,” he said. “I thought, ‘I want to meet that boy.’ ”

At halftime, it was Rodney Anderson’s turn to wipe away tears after the standing ovation he received.

Ron Kamaka, an assistant track coach who was paralyzed after a body-surfing accident 10 years ago, presented Rodney with a new computer, told the crowd the story of the two vans and then handed Anderson the most personal gift.

It was Rodney’s Titan jersey, No. 4, in a frame.

“Nine months ago, a very large part of Rodney’s life was taken away,” Kamaka said. “But a very large part, which Rodney might not have known was there, a life of support from the Titan family, came to life. We are blessed to have Rodney with us. This jersey is not retired, Rodney. With the good Lord’s blessing, you will step out of that chair, break the glass on that frame and put the jersey on your back.”

Tears poured from Rodney Anderson’s eyes. His shaky right hand wiped them away.

He is determined to play basketball again.

Until then, he has his Fullerton scholarship to count on. Anderson intends to be back at school next semester, according to his father. His mother says every day at rehab brings new triumphs. On Monday, Anderson drew her a picture, something that is still difficult as he struggles to regain use of his arms. It was a heart.

Rodney also wrote a sentence: “I love you mom.”