Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, March 7, 1995 TAG: 9503070092
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C4 EDITION: STATE
SOURCE: BILL MILLER THE WASHINGTON POST
DATELINE: WOODBRIDGE LENGTH: Medium
The sooner Tommy's behind the wheel of the black 1968 Chevrolet Camaro, the better.
The 17-year-old is dying of cancer.
The young man was at the garage last month along with the restorers, wearing a baseball cap that said ``No Fear'' and marveling, along with his father, at the spirit and skill of those crafting his new car.
``Since I was a little kid, I just kind of took a liking to Camaros,'' Tommy said. ``Ever since I laid my eyes on one. I'm serious. It's just everything about it. It's a great car. There's no other in the world that appeals to me.''
Everyone on hand was a volunteer. They'd learned about Tommy in a variety of ways: from the Make-A-Wish Foundation, which helps children with life-threatening illnesses; from Jack Diamond, a radio personality on WRQX-FM; from the boy's father, Russ; from word-of-mouth throughout the family's Centreville community.
``It's just unbelievable,'' Tommy said. ``It's a dream come true.''
Until last summer, he was a typical teen-ager bagging groceries, lifting weights, hanging out with his friends from Chantilly High School. Then he began getting headaches and spells of nausea. In early August, doctors removed a plum-size tumor from his brain. By Thanksgiving, another tumor - this one inoperable - was found on Tommy's spine. Doctors put him on a regimen of medication and chemotherapy and gave him a 50-50 chance.
A few weeks ago, as Tommy's health continued to deteriorate, his family called the Make-A-Wish Foundation. He first told the nonprofit group that he wanted a trip to Hawaii. Finally he confessed: What he really wanted was to restore a '68 Camaro.
Make-A-Wish agreed to pay for the repair work, and Tommy's father said he'd get the car. He contacted Diamond, and as soon as his old friend made a pitch on his morning drive-time show, the offers started coming in. Eighteen people volunteered to donate their cars.
In the middle of the Camaro-hunting, Tommy got sick again. In mid-February, doctors found that the tumor had grown from his spine to his neck. According to the Crams, the cancer likely will kill him before year's end.
Hours after leaving Fairfax Hospital, father and son picked up the teen-ager's new 1968 Camaro from Melissa Stephenson, a 30-year-old Bethesda, Md., woman who was 4 when her parents bought the car.
``He told me, `Dad, this is the happiest day of my life.' If they don't do anything to this car, I'll still be very happy,'' Russ Cram said.
But others were determined to turn the car into a showpiece. Leaders of the Mid-Atlantic Camaro Club, an 80-member group of car buffs, promised Tommy they would rebuild it. That's why it was stripped to its shell, sitting in the club's garage with Stephenson, the Crams and a bunch of Camaro enthusiasts gathered around.
Tommy himself was looking under the hood, crawling beneath the car, handing out parts. Every other word was ``thanks,'' although he had a special message for Stephenson. ``I owe my life to you,'' he told her.
by CNB