Take On Life

Hi everyone,

Trenton Trowell has never seen New York City, at least not with his own eyes.

So last Tuesday, his father, David, made a point of soaking up the Manhattan skyline from his seat inside a Pike Electric truck on I-95.

“You don’t get much time to sightsee in this job,” said Trowell, a 27-year veteran of long-distance power restorations. “You get what you can.”

So for a few moments, Trowell got a nice look at the Big Apple to take home to his son.

Whenever that is.

Trowell, 47, was part of a modern-day cavalry unit last week, a caravan of cherry pickers, pickup trucks and line trucks headed north to Greater Danbury to help restore power after the Oct. 29 snowstorm.

Although Pike Electric is based in North Carolina, Trowell said Friday in the Mile Hill Road South neighborhood of Newtown, the company has crews all across the country.

Take Trowell and his supervisor, Barry McCarty, for example.

Their 1,000-mile journey to Connecticut began last Sunday in Waycross, Ga., a town of about 15,000 people next to the Okefenokee Swamp and roughly 60 miles north of the Florida border.

“Our guys make overtime, but the trade-off is being away from their families,” said McCarty, 54, who has worked for Pike for 26 years. “I have a wife, three kids and six grandkids, but being away from home is part of the job.”

It’s no different for the 22 other out-of-state crews who came here last week to restore power and the human condition, according to CL&P records.

McCarty said Pike Electric sent almost 800 workers to the Northeast to repair damage from last week’s freak autumn snowstorm. Two of those workers were his nephew and his son-in-law.

Each crew member, you see, has faces to pull out of a wallet when the nights get lonely.

And they always do.

The Pike workers call home just about every night, Trowell and McCarty said. The other times, a 16-hour day takes another swipe at a man’s strength.

Karen McCarty will tell you it’s nice to hear her husband’s voice on the other line. She’ll also tell you it’s not the same as talking to him across the kitchen table.

“It’s hard when he’s away, but we’re used to it. It’s part of the job,” Karen McCarty said Friday night from her family’s home in southeastern Georgia.

“When he’s gone a week, that’s not too bad. But when it gets to be two weeks and three weeks, that gets a little tough.”

For everyone.

In Newtown, Trowell directed a crew of four men replacing a transformer and wondering who stole the copper wire from fallen power lines here.

“That happens sometimes. They sell it for scrap,” Trowell said, sounding disappointed but not entirely surprised.

Trowell and his crew couldn’t do anything about the stolen copper wire, of course.

But they could give a neighborhood hot showers and cold refrigerators after nearly a week without power.

Once the transformer was swapped and the lines were safely connected, Trowell said, the crew could “energize” the system.

For rookies like me, that meant turning on the power.

“I think everybody likes the good feeling you get from helping folks get their lights back on and their heat back on,” McCarty said.

Trowell agreed.

“Everybody watches the news and knows when the big storms are coming,” Trowell said. “We’ve done it enough times in this business. Everybody knows the drill.

“You don’t ever want to see people lose their power, especially in the wintertime. But if they do, we’re here to help them.”

Even if it means putting 1,000 miles between your family and all those dark power lines in Connecticut.

Hi everyone,

Danbury’s Al Almeida has spent 33 years in the U.S. Army and the U.S. Army Reserves, including two deployments to Iraq.

He’s received three Bronze Stars, the Operation Iraqi Freedom Medal and countless other citations on his way to becoming Command Sgt. Maj. Almeida.

And yet, where everyone else sees a hometown hero, Almeida sees unfinished business.

Not for long, if you ask him.

After a lifetime of public service to his country and his state — Almeida has also spent 18 years with the public defender’s office at Danbury Superior Court — the son of Portuguese immigrants wants to represent Danbury’s Third Ward on the City Council.

But don’t bother looking for Almeida’s name on the ballot Nov. 8. Not unless you write it yourself.

Al Almeida — the first-time candidate for City Council — missed the nomination deadline.

Not because he was ignorant or misinformed. And not because he was negligent or crass.

Command Sgt. Maj. Almeida missed the deadline because he was doing his job. He was serving with the Warrior Transition Battalion at Fort Lewis in Washington state.

“I’ve been thinking about running for City Council for a long time,” Almeida said the other day from his Superior Court office. “I know that it’s going to be harder to win as a write-in candidate. I get that.

“But based on my experience in the military, I’d bring a different kind of leadership to the job, a different way of thinking. I just want to do whatever I can to serve the people of the city of Danbury.”

Almeida, 51, said he didn’t find out he was coming home until the end of August. By that time, the Democrats had already voted on their slate.

And the Third Ward, a Republican stronghold, was conspicuously devoid of a candidate.

The way Almeida figured it, his deployment was over. For that matter, so was his work serving more than 700 soldiers and their families in Washington, Oregon, California and Nevada.

It was time to start a write-in campaign.

It was time to trade his spit-shined boots for a pair of walking shoes and go door-to-door in the Third Ward.

Former Danbury Mayor Gene Eriquez, for one, likes Almeida’s approach, even if Almeida faces entrenched competition from City Council President Joe Cavo and fellow Republican Andrew Wetmore, who are cross-endorsed by the Independent Party.

“Al has demonstrated a clear dedication to public service in his life, through his work in the military and the public defender’s office,” Eriquez said. “Certainly he possesses qualities and attributes that are extremely transferable to public office.

“Instead of waiting for another two-year (election) cycle, he’s trying to establish his name right now in his ward and his neighborhood. I give him a lot of credit.”

This election isn’t a referendum on Almeida’s civic commitment or his leadership. He has those roles down.

And it’s not a matter of his academic credentials.

Consider: Almeida is a graduate of Henry Abbott Technical High School and a member of the Abbott Tech Hall of Fame.

He also has a bachelor’s degree in justice and law administration from Western Connecticut State University and a master’s degree in homeland security leadership from the University of Connecticut.

This election is about giving Danbury voters in the Third Ward a choice Nov. 8. What’s more democratic — and more important — than that?

It’s easy to vote the party line on Election Day, to blindly fill in circles or flip levers, whether the candidates are Democrats, Republicans or any other party.

But it’s usually not the best way to cast your vote.

One big thing Almeida has going for him, Eriquez said, is his appeal to both sides of the aisle as well as the Third Ward’s unaffiliated voters.

Although it’s rare, Eriquez said, it’s not unprecedented to win office as a write-in candidate.

In 2005, Michael Jarjura was re-elected mayor of Waterbury after a spirited and successful write-in campaign.

Of course, Jarjura was an incumbent and Almeida is a rookie, a political newcomer here in the Hat City.

But Almeida isn’t letting that stop him from giving Third Ward voters a choice Nov. 8.

Nor should you.

Hi everyone,

Paula Cardinale, the Danbury woman who answered to “Peanuts” more often than not, never set out to be a hero.

The real heroes never do.

Instead, Paula wanted to cook holiday dinners for her family. She wanted to give her six grandchildren the kind of hugs they will feel every time they close their eyes.

And, for a long time, Paula did just that — better than anyone else in the world, her family will tell you.

The cancer couldn’t steal those moments the way it had stolen so much else. Paula wouldn’t let it. Neither would her husband, Paulo.

For almost 40 years, Paula and Paulo Cardinale were separated by one letter — and little else. They shared two beautiful daughters, Christie and Lori, and the love of a lifetime.

But after four grueling years, Paula “Peanuts” Cardinale lost her battle with pancreatic cancer last November. She was 59 years old.

Her family, including more than 350 kids she watched over the years at Paula’s Day Care, lost even more.

“My mother loved everyone and cooked for everyone,” Christie said. “Even after she was diagnosed, she always tried to stay positive. We would leave a doctor’s appointment and she would hug the doctor — no matter what she had just heard.”

On Sunday, the Fairfield County Pancreatic Cancer Research Walk will be held at the Bethel High School track. Registration will start at 8:30 a.m. and the walk will begin at 10 a.m.

A $50 donation is suggested for all participants. You can ask friends, family members and co-workers for pledges, or you can make your own donation at www.lustgarten.org.

All of the proceeds will be donated to the Lustgarten Foundation, the largest private foundation in the country devoted exclusively to funding pancreatic cancer research.

This is the third consecutive year that a pancreatic cancer awareness walk will be held in Greater Danbury. The first two events were held at Danbury Fair mall.

Last year, Paula made a brief appearance at the pancreatic cancer walk. It might’ve been the coldest day of the fall, the kind of day when pumpkins are kissed with frost and blankets are a girl’s best friend.

Paula was wrapped in blankets that morning, but it was the reception she received — the enduring, tearful cheers — that warmed her heart.

“That’s all she used to talk about,” Christie said the other day. “She used to tell me, ‘I’m going to be there. I’m going to make it.’ And she did.”

To be sure, it was a hard day for Christie, Lori and their father. They all knew that time with Paula was becoming more precious now.

Just five days after the 2010 pancreatic cancer walk, Paula “Peanuts” Cardinale was gone. And a city and its children mourned her.

Earlier this year, Kristen Angell of Bethel nominated Paula for the Dr. Randy Pausch Award given by the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network.

The award honors Carnegie Mellon professor Randy Pausch, who died of pancreatic cancer in 2008 and has been immortalized on YouTube for his “Last Lecture” speech.

“I know that everyone has a story but Paula is the definition of hope and inspired hundreds of people to get involved and take action,” wrote Kristen, the daughter of Ken Angell, who died of pancreatic cancer in 2008.

“After news of her death I received emails from people that didn’t know her personally but were at the walk and inspired by her words and want to volunteer.”

PanCan received hundreds of applications for the Randy Pausch Award, according to Kristen. Paula didn’t exactly come in first place, however.

She came in second.

During her final days and months, Paula “Peanuts” Cardinale grew weaker, but she never made a bucket list.

She didn’t want to surf in Hawaii. She didn’t want to shop in Beverly Hills. She didn’t want to play center field for the Yankees, or drink the best wine in Italy.

“My mother didn’t want to go on a trip or anything like that,” Christie said. “All she wanted was to be with her family. Her family meant everything to her.”

Hundreds of people — a snaking, sea of purple sweatshirts and T-shirts — came out for last year’s pancreatic cancer walk in Danbury. It will be the same thing Sunday morning at Bethel High.

A lot of these folks will walk to make good on $50 in pledges.

Plenty others, I’m sure, will walk for “Peanuts.”

Hi everyone,

It took Nick Hoffman seven years to cross West Street in Danbury.

He must have looked both ways hundreds of times — maybe even thousands — but it wasn’t until August that Hoffman finally made it across the street.

Then he opened the door to a yellow, two-story dream.

After all the fundraising and all the grant applications, after all the sawing and all the hammering, the Child Guidance Clinic of Family & Children’s Aid in Danbury was open for business.

But this wasn’t just Hoffman’s dream, mind you.

This dream belonged to Dr. Irv Jennings, the executive and medical director of Family & Children’s Aid, the agency that rescues and rehabilitates kids from life’s worst nightmares.

This dream belonged to the child psychiatrists, the licensed clinicians, the nurses and the rest of the staff at Family & Children’s Aid.

It belonged to the contractors and the subcontractors who transformed the old Rite Aid pharmacy on the corner of West and Division streets into beams of strength and dormers of hope.

But most of all, this $3 million dream belonged to the 700 kids that Family & Children’s Aid helps with its programs and messages of healing.

“The work that our clinicians and staff do is challenging,” said Hoffman, the director of development and public relations for Family & Children’s Aid. “These kids are exposed to stuff that shouldn’t happen to kids.”

And understand, this stuff runs the whole, horrible gamut.

There is the little girl who is swept up from her home by the police after a night of domestic violence. And there is the little boy whose father tried to poison him by filling his belly with pills.

But now, they have this castle of kindness in Danbury.

Everything about this 14,000-square-foot clinic is hands-on, from the gentle care these kids receive to the rainbow-colored handprints — eight in all — painted on the outside of the building.

The two-story entrance, complete with a hot air balloon suspended from the ceiling and a screen-saver fish tank projected on a huge screen, is awash in color — big, sweeping swaths of red, yellow, blue and green.

“It doesn’t feel like a doctor’s office. It feels more like a place where kids will want to come,” said Hoffman, whose wife, Robyn, works for Family & Children’s Aid as an advanced practice registered nurse.

Last Saturday night, Family & Children’s Aid held a grand opening of the Child Guidance Clinic for clients, philanthropists, board members, politicians and other supporters. A public grand opening will be held Nov. 8 from noon to 2 p.m.

The main attraction of the brand-new clinic is easily “Playmaker Village,” funded in large part by the Life is Good Kids Foundation and built partially by volunteers from GE Capital Solutions in Danbury.

This 2,500-square-foot space, with the rubberized floor, is unapologetically — and gratefully — lifted straight from Walt Disney World’s Main Street USA platform.

At the Surf Shop, for example, there is an empty three-lane swimming pool — complete with deep end — carved into the ceiling and highlighted by surf boards on the walls. Kids can also play in a sandbox filled with kernels of corn.

In another storefront, kids can snap their Lego creations onto the walls. There are also window shelves to display Lego masterpieces and to build self-esteem.

In the rock-climbing area, Hoffman explained, kids can get so focused on scaling the wall that they let down their guard to reveal why they’re really hurting inside.

“Play is intuitive, but it can get suppressed by trauma,” Hoffman said. “These interactions help (children) become kids again. We want to get these kids healthy.”

Now, instead of splitting services and staff between two clinics at 72 and 74 West St., everything is contained under one magical roof at 80 West St.

This wonderful building — the house that love built — was largely funded with a $1.5 million state grant and a $250,000 federal grant. The balance was raised through a capital campaign that erased the need for a mortgage.

At the end of the day — or at least, the end of seven years — the Child Guidance Clinic of Family & Children’s Aid is a great example of the real power of public-private partnerships.

“If it takes a village to raise a child,” Hoffman said, “it takes a city — and more — to raise the 700 children we have here.”

Hi everyone,

Anna Levitt, the joy of Hancock Hall in Danbury, is 98 years old. She’s a member of the resident council and a lover of good music, good food and good times.

“We’re best friends in the whole world,” said her granddaughter, Lia Levitt, 31, of Newtown. “We talk all the time, usually twice a day. She’s my inspiration in life.”

So, when the calendar turned into a conversation — Nov. 11 will be 11/11/11 — it was no surprise that, once again, Anna Levitt became Lia’s muse.

“A lot of people make a wish when it’s 11:11,” Lia said the other day in Newtown, where she’s lived for the past seven years. “At first, I was just going to have a party and invite some friends over to mark the occasion. But then, it just kind of hit me.”

And how.

Instead of throwing a party for her friends, Lia Levitt wanted to do more. Maybe more than she’s ever attempted in her life.

Forget about experience. Forget about money. Lia decided to throw a party — a benefit gala — for the whole community to help the Connecticut Chapter of the Make-A-Wish Foundation.

Lia even came up with a name for the Nov. 11 event at Roberto’s Restaurant in Monroe: “The 11-11 Wishes Come True Soiree.”

All at once, it was the perfect project and the perfect storm.

“Once I realized what I wanted to do, it was like an epiphany for me,” Lia said. “I had done charity events in college — fashion shows and other things — but I’d never attempted anything like this before, certainly nothing on this scale.”

Within 24 hours, Lia had booked a DJ for the event. But the real heavy lifting — the cold calls to local restaurants and merchants — was still ahead.

And then, one after another, local restaurants stepped forward to help, including The Inn at Newtown, Roberto’s in Monroe, Mona Lisa in Newtown, The Cookhouse in New Milford, The Villa Restaurant and Demitasse in Sandy Hook — you get the idea.

Other merchants, meanwhile, donated prizes for the silent auction, including McLaughlin Vineyards in Sandy Hook, Ricci’s Salon in Newtown, and more than a dozen other local businesses.

“It was so amazing. I don’t think anyone I asked ever turned me down,” Lia said, pausing briefly to pull out a grin. “Actually, I don’t think I made ‘no’ an option.”

All kidding aside, Lia hopes to raise $8,500 on Nov. 11, an ambitious number to be sure. The figure represents the average cost of granting a wish to a child with a life-threatening medical condition.

The wish could be a trip to Walt Disney World to ride Space Mountain and pose with Mickey Mouse.

The wish could be a visit to the Grand Canyon to make memories that will last longer than any natural wonder carved by currents.

“My goal right now is pretty simple,” said Lia, a learning and development consultant for Belimo Aircontrols in Danbury. “I need people to buy tickets. I mean, I really, really need people to buy tickets.

“I can promise you, this is going to be a night that’s totally inspirational and totally fun. There’s not an hour in any day that I’m not trying to make this the best event possible.”

Tickets for the “11-11 Wishes Come True Soiree” cost $55 and include dinner, dancing, the silent auction, a wine tasting and, of course, the chance to grant a wish for a sick child.

Tickets are available at several area locations, including Church Hill Physical Therapy & Sports Rehabilitation in Newtown, The Newtown Bee, and Monroe Physical Therapy & Sports Rehabilitation.

Tickets can also be ordered online by contacting Lia at wisheventtickets@yahoo.com.

You can also visit the fundraiser’s website at http://friends.wish.org/054-000/page/Lia-Levitt/11-11-Wishes-Come-True-Soiree-.htm for more information.

“A lot of people make a wish at 11:11,” Lia said, leaning over the table to make her point one last time. “But with this gala, I’m hoping to get a lot of people to make the same wish at once.”

Hi everyone,

If there’s anything good that comes from the passing of Steve Jobs, other than his enduring legacy of innovation and excellence at Apple, it is the spotlight he leaves on pancreatic cancer.

Although this monster is America’s fourth-leading cause of cancer deaths — only lung, colon and breast cancer are more deadly — pancreatic cancer doesn’t get the exposure, the funding or the research of the others.

Maybe now it will.

Consider: Roughly 2 percent of the National Cancer Institute’s $5 billion budget for fiscal year 2010 was spent on pancreatic cancer research.

That isn’t just woefully inadequate.

It’s woefully offensive.

Jobs, who died last week at the age of 56, was the co-founder and former CEO of Apple. But he is also one of the nearly 37,000 people who die each year from pancreatic cancer, according to NCI figures.

You don’t need to repeat those terrible numbers to Karen Rowe of Bethel, or Ellen Klaus and Julie Dunn of Newtown.

These three women — and countless people like them — know these figures by heart, because pancreatic cancer stole their hearts.

Rowe and Klaus lost their husbands, Kevin and Berny, each man taken within months of his initial diagnosis. Dunn, meanwhile, lost her mother, Rosemary McGrath, at 51.

Unlike breast cancer, lung cancer and colon cancer, there is no early screening test for pancreatic cancer.

Even worse, by the time symptoms manifest and a diagnosis is made, it’s often too late. According to the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network, the five-year survival rate for pancreatic cancer patients is 6 percent.

That’s the thing about pancreatic cancer, you see. Its quiet evil is surpassed only by its enormous cruelty.

In 2009, Rowe, Klaus and Dunn — and a groundswell of local volunteers and survivors — came together to organize an annual walk in Greater Danbury to raise money and awareness in the fight against pancreatic cancer.

After two years of walking laps around Danbury Fair mall, the walk’s organizers have relocated, and renamed, the 2011 event.

This year, the Fairfield County Pancreatic Cancer Research Walk will be held Oct. 30 at the Bethel High track. Registration will start at 8:30 a.m. and the walk will begin at 10 a.m.

A $50 donation, from fundraising or from your checkbook, is all you need, although purple clothing is also strongly encouraged.

“The best part is that 100 percent of the proceeds will go to the Lustgarten Foundation,” said Klaus, whose husband was a longtime volunteer firefighter with the Newtown Hook & Ladder Co.

The Lustgarten Foundation, according to its website, was founded in 1998. It is the largest private foundation in the nation devoted exclusively to funding pancreatic cancer research.

Steve Morda, a pancreatic cancer survivor from Middletown, will be among the 400 people expected to take part in this year’s walk at Bethel High.

Morda, a three-sport referee — he officiates high school football, basketball and baseball — was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in September 2009.

Even as Morda was rolling through a hospital hallway on a gurney a few weeks later, soon to be under the lights and under the knife, he insisted everything was OK.

“I felt fine. I couldn’t believe I was as sick as they were telling me,” Morda said Wednesday in Newtown. “But guess what? I was that sick.”

Two years later, Morda is here to tell the world that pancreatic cancer can be beaten.

“I’ve officiated baseball games and played tennis with my (chemo bag) on my hip,” Morda said. “Your attitude is so important. I have my bad days, of course. But I’m generally a pretty positive person.”

Morda is one of the lucky ones, he’ll tell you.

The others who came before him — actors Patrick Swayze and Michael Landon, famed tenor Luciano Pavarotti, thousands of other men and women like Morda’s buddy, Woody, who passed away recently — are the ones he won’t forget.

Pancreatic cancer doesn’t care how much money you have. It doesn’t care if you have a wife and kids. It doesn’t care if you have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

If you really want to honor Steve Jobs, or Steve Morda, or anyone taken much too soon, come to the inaugural Fairfield County Pancreatic Cancer Research Walk and visit www.lustgarten.org.

While you’re at it, don’t forget to bring your iPod.

I bet Steve Jobs would like that.

Hi everyone,

George Korres quietly rubbed his hand across his face Thursday, but it was no use. There are no words to soften the fangs of childhood cancer.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t try.

Korres, the owner of Nico’s Pizza and Pasta at 175 Main St. in Danbury, has spent the last three years hoisting a Greater Danbury child on his shoulders for a cancer fundraiser.

On Sunday afternoon, 17-year-old Kendall Schmidt, of New Fairfield, will be the beneficiary of Karing for Kelly, the benefit Korres started in 2009. The Schmidt family will get 100 percent of the proceeds to help Kendall’s battle against stage 3 non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.

Korres cooks trays and trays of food each October — pizza and baked ziti pulled from a steamy oven, chicken francese scooped from a saucepan on the back burner.

The front burner at Nico’s — at least, on this particular day — was reserved for making all the last-minute decisions for the third annual Karing for Kelly benefit.

“We have such a great community in Danbury,” said Korres, 57. “I love this city. People really come out and support each other at times when they need it most.”

This year’s Karing for Kelly event will be held from noon to 4 p.m. at the Palace Theatre, just a few doors down from Nico’s, where the pizza comes out just as fresh as the prosciutto.

For a $20 donation — $10 for kids — you get admission to an all-you-can-eat buffet, music from a DJ, a chance to see 70 classic cars and hot rods, and other entertainment.

And yet, none of this happens without extraordinary planning, months in the making, from Korres and his staff at Nico’s, to his family, to his partners in Karing for Kelly, including South Street’s Nejame & Sons, Joseph DaSilva Jr. and the Palace Theatre, Cartech LLC and Ultimate Restoration LLC.

As always, the phone call came right on schedule a while back from the Connecticut Children’s Medical Center in Hartford, the hospital that’s helped so many of these kids with cancer.

But unlike the past two years, when Korres saw babies with cancer, this time he saw a teenager fighting for his life against this disease.

“He’s a great kid. He’s really something else,” Korres said, adding that Kendall will run the fundraiser’s live slideshow Sunday from his own computer.

“Ahhh,” Korres exhaled, picturing Kendall at the controls. “It’s a beautiful thing.”

Indeed it is.

For Lew Lombardo of Ultimate Restoration, Karing for Kelly isn’t just a chance to give back to the community. It’s a chance to give back to Kendall.

“I’ve got a son the same age as this young man,” said Lombardo, 45, a father of five. “This hits home for me.”

To read more about Karing for Kelly, check out my “Take on Life” column Friday.

Exclusively in the print edition of The News-Times.

Hi everyone,

He didn’t invent it, but Ralph DeLuca was playing “Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader?” long before it became a popular game show.

“I’ve always enjoyed working with fifth-graders,” said DeLuca, a 31-year veteran of the Bethel Police Department. “They’re my favorites because you can really engage them.

“I always used to tell them, ‘You guys are the smartest ones of all. You already know that it’s wrong to take drugs, or to bully people, or to do something that might hurt you or someone else.’ I always felt like I could reach them.”

And, for a long time, he did.

After spending 26 years as the town’s youth officer — and 21 as its DARE officer — Detective Cpl. Ralph DeLuca hung up his cap and uniform for the last time Friday.

Bethel’s DARE program, the one DeLuca built with his own hands in 1989, beat him to retirement by a year after the Police Commission pulled the plug on it last September.

For many in town, including two generations of DARE students in some families, the gasp was audible.

The pamphlets and the pencils explained that DARE stood for Drug Abuse Resistance Education, an anti-drug platform for kids, usually those impressionable, unfiltered fifth-graders.

But to DeLuca, the “D” in DARE was so much bigger than drugs. The “D” was more about decisions — helping kids make the good ones and avoid the bad ones.

“Stop and think before you do something,” repeated the 53-year-old DeLuca, gently rapping his knuckles on the table, a cadence for the cause that carried him all these years.

There’s no scientific method, of course, to measure DeLuca’s impact on Bethel’s children. The critics will tell you DeLuca had little or no impact on those fifth-graders in town.

I would suggest the critics are wrong.

If critics need graphs and charts to prove their point about DARE, why do families instill values and a sense of purpose in their children?

Did a miss a scorecard on the refrigerator? Did I miss the behavior spreadsheet?

I always thought that it was a good idea for children to have positive role models in their lives — most importantly, their parents, but also teachers, coaches, clergy and other key community members.

Think about it: How do you measure a late-night phone call from your teenager asking for a ride home from a party suddenly gone bad?

You weren’t sleeping anyway, right?

There is nothing controversial about putting the safety of Bethel’s children first, about giving these kids the tools — or at least, the frame of reference from role playing — to beat peer pressure.

Do DARE classes work every time, especially beyond the walls of a controlled classroom in fifth grade?

Of course not.

Do DARE classes give children a chance to turn their backs on alcohol, marijuana and other drugs — when no one is looking but them?

Absolutely.

To read more about Ralph DeLuca and Bethel’s former DARE program, check out my “Take on Life” column Sunday.

Exclusively in the print edition of The News-Times.