ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: FRIDAY, July 28, 1995                   TAG: 9507280038
SECTION: CURRENT                    PAGE: NRV-1   EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY 
SOURCE: ROBERT FREIS STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: CHRISTIANSBURG                                LENGTH: Long


`IT HAS TO BE LOVE'

At some point in everyone's life, pride takes the back seat while necessity rides shotgun.

Just ask Linda Smith: It's humiliating to be in the newspaper, asking for help. She doesn't want to seem like a deadbeat, particularly when the reason for her dilemma involves taking care of responsibilities.

But Smith needs a minivan, or the means to get one. That's the only effective way to get her grandson, George, to offices of the various doctors and therapists he must see.

Born with spina bifida, a congenital spinal defect, and a full medical chart of other ailments, 2-year-old George needs 24-hour attention. For example, he'll choke on his own saliva unless someone is there to suction out his tracheal tube.

George is a handful, and his twin sister, Ashley, and his 4-year-old half-brother, Billy, have their own demands, too.

It's taking a lot to spackle the fractures in Smith's family. Her daughter's children almost fell through the cracks into foster care.

She doesn't like to discuss her daughter, who still lives locally. Suffice it to say that Smith stepped in last year and obtained legal custody of the children. Now, after raising a family once, she's at it again, this time as a 44-year-old single parent.

"I don't want to lose these kids," she says.

They all live in a trailer, which is tidy except for the usual clutter of pediatric playthings. "We have a very happy little family here," she says. "I'm always here for them."

That's the problem. Smith is squeaking by financially on the $800 she gets monthly from the government and child support money, paying the bills and keeping the children clothed and fed.

Welfare is degrading, and there are no extras: no time, no energy. She's rarely left the house over the past year, except to take George where he has to go. Traveling with children, always a major production, is even more complicated with him.

Smith has to pull off the road frequently to suction George's throat. And the specialists who see him have offices scattered all over, in Blacksburg, Roanoke, Troutville, Boones Mill, Charlottesville. Smith has rolled up 1,500 miles in a month transporting George - and worn out four cars during the past year doing so.

No wonder. They've all been high-mileage heaps, which is all she could afford. Her last one died before she could finish paying for it. Regular passenger cars make it difficult to load George, his wheelchair and medical equipment, and to keep a watchful eye on him during the trip.

What Smith really needs is a minivan, said Susan Lindsey, who works for Project Step, a Community Services Board program that assists families with disabled children.

Smith works hard and effectively to be self-sufficient, Lindsey said. "But the minute her transportation is gone, that's when we hear from her. She becomes depressed, because she doesn't like to depend on other people."

With her family in West Virginia, and no time to attend church or maintain a circle of local friends, Smith is carrying the weight by herself, with the aid of social workers such as Lindsey, who have taken an interest in the family that goes beyond their job responsibilities.

The devotion and determination Smith has shown has been an inspiration, said Laura Collee, a home nurse who works with the family. "God forbid we ever let her down."

Smith says she can't get a job and also take care of the children. It's not a question of qualifications - she's worked a variety of production jobs over the years. It's not a question of motivation - she's tried, the last time as a motel maid. But George needs around-the-clock attention, and she couldn't physically work all night and then handle the children during the day, or get consistent help to watch them.

"I'm not getting big bucks for doing this," Smith says. "It has to be love."

On some bleak days, she thinks to herself, "There is no light at the end of the tunnel."

Most of the time, however, the children brighten her life. "In some ways these kids have been a lifesaver to me, a reason to get up in the morning. I gave my life to my husband and kids. My husband left and then the kids went away."

Second thoughts about taking her grandchildren? "No, never," she replies. "They're my family. I don't think anybody else in the world should raise them."

George, in particular, is an inspiration. Flaxen haired and blue eyed, he's a smiling angel with a wheelchair instead of wings. His health is still iffy, dangerous operations await. Yet he's alert, happy and bright. "I keep telling him he could be president," Smith says.

His future hinges on access to medical care, and access depends on an automobile.

That's why Smith and Lindsey set up the "George McKinnely Smith Handicapped Accessible Van Fund" at the First National Bank of Blacksburg and reluctantly decided to issue a public appeal for help. They say donations of money or an old automobile that could be used as a trade-in would be great. A minivan, which they could convert with a handicapped-accessible lift, would be better.

"Everybody tells me I've got too much pride," she says. "But pride is all I have going for me."

Donations can be mailed or delivered to the "George McKinnely Smith Handicapped Accessible Van Fund" at the National Bank of Blacksburg, P.O. Box 90002, Blacksburg, VA 24062-9002. The bank official overseeing the fund, Jeffery L. Tickle, can be contacted at 951-6260.



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