ALS sufferer finds hope in construction of new home
By Lydia McCoy (Contact)
Sunday, June 17, 2007

For the last 19 months, Vicki and Kenny Kindred have been floating. On Nov. 6, 2005, the mobile home where they'd lived for nine years was destroyed when an F3 tornado roared through the Eastbrook Mobile Home Park in the early morning hours.

For the Kindreds, the storm came almost a year after Kenny was diagnosed with ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease.


For the last two weeks, the Kindreds have been descending back to earth as their new home has been built in Habitat for Humanity's New Haven subdivision.

On Saturday their home, sponsored by Best One Tire & Service, was dedicated.

Vicki Kindred, 58, said, "We're not floating anymore. This house is on the ground, and I'm here with my husband. I couldn't be more grounded. Period. Even though we may not get to move in until the end of August, it's ours. We know it; it's reality and it's here. We're together, and I'm not up there floating anymore."

As Vicki stood by his side, Kenny, 64, told the crowd outside of his home, how thankful he was for the home.

"You are all a great bunch of people," he said.

"If the rest of the world was like this bunch and Habitat, we wouldn't have any problems. You all are so special, and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart."

Surrounded by friends, family and volunteers, Vicki summed up the day with one phrase — "We're home."

HHH

The Kindreds' battles began in 2004.

Kenny, who was a truck driver, began having a pain in his back, and he began to drag his right leg when he walked. The Kindreds thought he had strained his back, but after seeing a neurosurgeon, they were told that wasn't the case.

A year of testing ensued, with each test eliminating another possibility of what was wrong.

In January 2005, the Kindreds got the news — Kenny was diagnosed with ALS, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or what's commonly called Lou Gehrig's disease. The disease affects a person's nervous system and causes his muscles to stop working.

"It was devastating. They told me how I was going to die, when I was going to die, what I would go through," Kenny said.

In between his breaths and pauses, the sound of his By-pap machine can be heard in the background.

"To have all that whooped on you in one day, it just boggles your mind," he said. "What scares me, I don't want to leave my family. My family's my life, my whole life."

The doctors told the Kindreds Kenny had two years to live, but he's surpassed that.

From day one, the Kindreds said, they decided to fight it. Kenny's famous phrase is he may have the disease, but it doesn't have him.

"I might have the disease, but I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing," he said.

"I'm not going to let it get me down. I'm not going to lay in that bed and get stiff that's the reason I move around."

HHH

Kenny and Vicki Kindred are one, connected by 38 years of marriage, a terminal illness and the lost of their home.

The couple moved to Evansville in January 1971, after living in Miami, Fla., for some time, where Kenny laid sewer piping underwater.

Kenny became a truck driver, and Vicki took care of their three children and the home.

They moved into the Eastbrook Mobile Home Park, where they were one of the first families there.

"When we moved there, the other end of the park didn't even exist yet," Vicki said. "There were no streetlights there or nothing, so we were kind of isolated out there for a while."

Over the next nine years, they watched the neighborhood grow. Because Kenny was on the road most of the week, he loved it when more neighbors began moving into the park.

What they didn't know was one night would send their world spinning once again.

HHH

Nov. 6, 2005, was supposed to be a different day for Vicki and Kenny Kindred.

The couple had friends who were visiting and had plans to have dinner with them that evening, after attending church service at Christian Fellowship Church.

Waiting to make sure Kenny was OK before falling asleep, Vicki began working on a puzzle book.

She looked at the time on the clock — 1:22 a.m. — thinking she should get to sleep to be ready for church.

Shortly after she finally lay down, she recalled a "God awful sound."

"I remember asking Kenny, 'What was that?' and then I just remember being taken up ... just being sucked up," she said. "It's all in slow motion. I don't think I realized the room was gone."

Kenny said the next thing he remembered, he was laying on the floor and praying.

"And all of a sudden a blue light came over me, and it was just calm, like there never was a tornado there," he said.

"After that, it was over, I just worried that I didn't know what happened. I started hollering for her, and I looked over to where our bed was, that same blue light was just hovering over that spot. That had to be God protecting us."

The couple was separated when help arrived, and didn't see each other again until seven and a half hours later.

"And God knows I can remember every second that I couldn't find any of them. It was the longest seven and a half hours ever," Vicki said. "What was amazing was I didn't know my back was broken in two places until I found my family."

The Kindreds' daughter, Rhonda Ford, and her two children, Emily and Jacob, were staying with them. But they and Kenny only suffered minor injuries.

HHH

When the Kindreds heard that Habitat was building homes for families affected by the tornado, they thought they wouldn't be eligible.

But they found out the nonprofit organization built homes that were wheelchair accessible. The Kindreds' home has wider doors and will also include a ramp.

"Boy was that a day," Vicki said. "When we got a chance, and they told us we were going to get a home ... I thoroughly believe it's helped me have my husband today. I know it has. It got a new hope in him. It really gave him something to strive for."

Over the first two weeks of their home being built, Kenny was able to go the site for short periods of time to see work taking place on his home. On days he was unable to go to the site, Vicki would go and work. On the day their siding began going on, Vicki took a piece home to Kenny.

To watch their home being built has been an overwhelming experience for the couple. They can't say thank you enough to all those who made it possible, they said.

"It just feels like you're heart is going to blow open. There's no way in the world that you can repay them," she said. "(Habitat and its volunteers) have a special place in heaven, because the legacy they are leaving, it's profound. It can't even be put into words."

And, she said, her neighbors who lost their lives join them in the subdivision, too.

"They were my neighbors. Maybe I didn't know them personally, but I know them in my heart," Vicki said. "They're there, all the time, right here," she said as she pointed to her chest.

"And they'll be in New Haven. They're with me. Those people are going to the subdivision right along with us."
http://www.courierpress.com:80/news/.../17/new-haven/