[BobbyB]

Basu: Scholarship a fitting legacy
Rekha Basu • January 20, 2008


Rob Borsellino


I've been thinking about how much Rob would have loved writing his column these days. This political season has been loaded with the adrenaline-pumping stuff my late husband lived for: the scoop, the gossip, the proximity to key players.

He'd have scoped out where the candidates hung out and schmoozed with them. He'd probably have gotten in Giuliani's face for not campaigning in Iowa. He'd be chronicling a restaurant worker's or hotel housekeeper's brushes with celebrities.


Rob had a passion for telling people's stories. But long before he did that for his Register column, he was an editor, inspiring legions of young reporters to do the same. I was one of those he influenced.

After Rob died of Lou Gehrig's Disease in May 2006, I thought the most meaningful way to memorialize him would be to help nurture the potential of an aspiring journalist who had also faced some personal challenge. So we created the Rob Borsellino Journalism Scholarship at Des Moines Area Community College. It's a $1,000 grant awarded each year to a DMACC student interested in journalism and social change. It's funded by all the generous memorial contributions made in Rob's name.

The first scholarship was awarded last month, to Molly Lumley. She's 19 and writes for the DMACC student newspaper, Banner News. It has helped her find her niche in journalism. After getting her associate's degree in liberal arts this spring, she plans to transfer to Waldorf College to major in communications, specializing in print.

The instructor who recommended Molly wrote, "After she wrote a feature obituary following the death of one of our students, I told her that I hoped that she was still writing obituaries when I die because she did such a thoughtful job."

Like Rob, Molly hasn't had it easy financially. He had to put himself through college, working as a bank teller, cab driver and other jobs. She's also paying for her tuition and books herself.

"I currently live in a household with my parents, my three younger brothers and myself. We survive off an income staggeringly below the poverty line," she wrote in her application. ".... My father is retired and disabled from an accident... My mother has been in and out of hospitals with various illnesses for as long as I can remember and has also been unable to work. "

Rob also started out at community college.

In background, upbringing and political orientation, Molly and Rob would be miles apart. He grew up in The Bronx. She grew up in Boone. He went to public school; she was home-schooled. He leaned left politically; she leans right, but is just as opinionated.

But Molly says she draws her inspiration from people who start out having it rough, but through hard work and perseverance are able to overcome their circumstances. Maybe they're not so different.

People leave their mark in different ways, through their words, their work, their children. Rob lives on in his columns, and in his sons, the younger of whom will also go to college this fall. Now Rob's legacy will also endure with every aspiring journalist the scholarship helps to find a voice.

REKHA BASU can be reached at rbasu@dmreg.com or (515) 284-8584.

http://www.desmoinesregister.com/app...0323/-1/NEWS04

[BobbyB]

The Private Battle of Robert Borsellino
by Stephen M. Delgado

One can hardly watch a newscast without hearing about some battle being fought in some part of the world, but there’s also another kind of battle being fought by more than 30,000 Americans who have ALS.

A journalist in Des Moines, Iowa, is engaged in such a battle. Meet Robert Borsellino, a columnist for the Des Moines Register. Although his body has been weakened by the disease, his pen still has the might of a howitzer.

Borsellino grew up in a tough Bronx, N.Y., neighborhood in the 1950s and 60s. He graduated from Bronx Community College and the State University of New York at New Paltz.

Borsellino, 56, is married to Rekha Basu, who is also a columnist for the Des Moines Register. They have two sons, Raj, 19, and Romen, 16.

Borsellino has a resume rich in newspaper background, peppered with some years in radio and television. His newspaper experience includes stints with Newsday, the Albany Times Union, the Kingston Daily Freeman, the South Florida Sun-Sentinel and the Des Moines Register.

The Register hired Borsellino in 1994 as the metro editor, and he became a columnist in 1998. He’s written scores of articles about everything from homeless youth to his meeting with Ronald Reagan.


No matter what or whom he writes about, his common denominator is putting a human face on his subject and taking the reader inside the person. Borsellino is currently working part-time for the Register.

Declaration of War

In the autumn of 2004, Borsellino’s world completely changed, when a dreaded disease declared war on his body. A few months later an article he wrote would become profoundly personal. He’d take the reader inside Rob Borsellino.

The article was titled, “I Can Kick the Denial, Not the Disease.” It ran in the Des Moines Register Feb. 23, 2005, and is one of the collection of articles penned by Borsellino in his recent book So I’m Talking to This Guy… (Des Moines Register).

“I was slurring my words; I was tired, and I felt weak,” Borsellino wrote. “Finally, I went to see a doctor,” he recalled. “But, the doctor ran some tests and was spooked by what he saw. He sent me to a second doctor — a nerve specialist.

“That guy ran more tests and at the end of the session, he’s telling me I have some fatal, incurable, exotic-sounding disease called amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), also called Lou Gehrig’s disease. Then he told me that most people only live a few years with this disease.”

What’s more, Borsellino recounts seeing several other doctors around the country and being told the same thing. He said that each time he heard it, he was in denial. The recurring thoughts that he wouldn’t be there for his sons’ weddings, and that he wouldn’t see his grandchildren, kept haunting him.

Fighting Back

Twelve-step programs such as Alcoholics Anonymous stress to their members the idea of living “one day at a time.” When a person’s future is in a precarious position because of a disease, one day at a time may be the best way to cope.

If a good attitude is vital in coping with a catastrophic disease, Borsellino has one. He isn’t going to quit or do a gloomy Gus act. His tough upbringing tempered his psyche.

“It has been tough, but my attitude is to keep having fun as long as we can.”

Borsellino is still walking, but not talking. He is attending MDA clinic, is receiving assistance from the MDA loan closet, and a network of friends helps every day with various tasks, such as “helping me to dress and make breakfast. My son, Raj, has taken the semester off from college to be at home to help me, too.”

In all, Borsellino’s gift of empathy is matched by his sense of humor. In light of what he’s going through, he found something to smile about and to bring a smile to us when he was trying to think of a positive angle.

“I’m toying with the name. At least it’s called Lou Gehrig’s disease and not Steinbrenner Syndrome or Dizzy Dean Disorder.”

For a Yankee fan who grew up in the Bronx, it’s an ironic connection to one of the greatest Yankee players ever.

Rob Borsellino has agreed to contribute an article to a future issue of the MDA/ALS Newsmagazine. Borsellino has been named the recipient MDA’s 2006 Personal Achievement Award for Iowa.

[BobbyB]

April 11, 2006

Dylan-Haggard Concert
Will Help Iowa Chapter
By Gary Wosk, ALSA Staff Writer


Bob Dylan
ALSA Iowa Chapter Executive Director Jason Lee was surprised, very surprised, last month when the general manager of a concert venue told him that all the proceeds, up to $100,000, from a Bob Dylan-Merle Haggard concert to be given in honor of a journalist with ALS would be donated to the chapter’s programs.

Since that heads-up phone call and the subsequent publication of a story in the Des Moines Register about the April 21 concert for nationally known columnist Rob Borsellino, diagnosed with the disease in the spring of 2005, interest in the 3-year-old chapter has been on the steady rise.

“There has been a buzz generated that we did not have before, mainly in regard to the concert, but we’ve also had additional donations, inquiries and multiple volunteers sign up at the chapter,” Lee said. “The word is out on the street about the concert and ALS. This is great timing. We’ll be able to take some big steps for providing needed services in Iowa.”

Lee said the chapter has been very busy promoting the concert through press releases and on its website. The chapter has also participated in interviews with print and electronic media. Lee and others from the chapter are scheduled to appear on a live, local early morning television show several days before the concert.


Though it may be a long shot, Lee would tell the following to Dylan and Haggard if given the opportunity: “Thank you for being so willing to support the cause of ALS, The ALS Association and specifically the tribute to Rob Borsellino who is helping us put a face on this cruel and tragic disease. Thank you for being very generous and taking the time out of your schedule to support this cause.”



ALSA Iowa Chapter Executive Director Jason Lee has been busy promoting the Bob Dylan-Merle Haggard concert to local media.


It was Borsellino’s close friend Bob Knapp, a well-known area real estate developer who first thought of the concert. Borsellino wrote a touching column eight years ago about Knapp and his Nashville-based music publishing business named after his son, Brian. Brian Knapp was a gifted musician who regularly played alongside Johnny Cash. He passed away from leukemia when he was only 14 years old. Knapp then contacted his close friend, music producer Chris Cardani, general manager of the Val Air Ballroom in West Des Moines, where the concert will be held. They teamed up to make the event a reality.

The makings of the concert began in late February when Knapp asked Borsellino who his favorite artist was. Knapp did not have to think twice when he heard the answer and the request to shake this artist’s hand.

“We were sitting, having lunch, reminiscing. The time was going quick, and we were talking about the music business, and I said, ‘Rob, who is your favorite artist? I’ve never really asked you.’ And he said, ‘Dylan.’ I said, ‘Really? He was just in town last summer with Willie Nelson.’ I thought, ‘that’s a 'helluva' of an idea.’ I never said anything to him until I called Dylan and his people. He didn’t have a clue.”


“The concert is exciting. It will raise money for a good cause, which you don’t hear a lot about,” Knapp continued. “It’s bringing a lot of the people from the community’s corporations together, and it’s going to be a great night. Dylan is a legend. It’s great for Rob’s family. He has a kid who is a sophomore in college who has come home to help out his dad. This will help bring some peace to the family.”

The Dylan-Haggard entourage includes six semi-trucks, seven buses and crew of 100 people. Nearly 3,000 people are expected to attend the concert, and Cardani said “the $2,500 checks (for the highest priced tickets) are rolling in.”



Des Moines Register columnist Rob Borsellino with
his wife, Rekha Basu, and the couple’s two sons, Romen, 16 and Raj, 19.

Borsellino spoke before a Senate subcommittee about the need for more ALS research funding.
This is the second time Borsellino will have the chance to shake Dylan’s hand. The late Rick Danko, a bassist in the Dylan band, The Band, a neighbor and friend of Borsellino in Woodstock, New York, arranged a brief encounter with Dylan; however, the hand shake he had hoped for did not happen.

“Rob would have been happy meeting Bob Dylan in the bar again,” Cardani said. “I told Bob we can do better. Lets throw one up for charity. I used my contacts to land the show, and we’re on the way.”

Borsellino’s wife, Rekha Basu, an opinion section columnist for the Register, said Knapp and Cardani are among the many people who have reached out to the couple and their sons, Romen, 16, and Raj, 19.

“People from throughout the country, especially here in Iowa, have been so good to him and to us,” Basu said. ‘People have been doing all kinds of things, from organizing prayer chants, sending us knit blankets and bringing food over. People we do not even know. It’s part of this incredible outpouring of support that he has received.”

In his high school yearbook, Borsellino said his ambition in life was to meet Dylan. There is even a framed picture of Dylan in the hallway of Borsellino’s home.



Merle Haggard
“I looked at the guy in the long coat drinking a Beck’s,” Borsellino would later write about his first encounter with Dylan. “Under the wool hat and three-day growth was Bob Dylan. I mumbled something inane and stuck out my hand for a shake. Dylan just stared at it. I dropped my hand to my side. Rick (Danko) looked and me and said, ‘You just said you wanted to meet him. You didn’t say anything about a handshake.’ Dylan drank his beer and stared straight ahead.”

Jeff Snyder, ALSA’s vice president of Communications, met Borsellino last May in Washington, D.C., during National ALS Advocacy Day when Borsellino testified before a Senate subcommittee about the need for more ALS research funding.

“Rob Borsellino sets the example for how a public figure can be an effective advocate for The ALS Association in our quest to find a cure for Lou Gehrig’s disease,” Snyder told Des Moines Register music critic Kyle Munson last month.
http://www.alsa.org/news/article.cfm?id=929

[BobbyB]

Borsellino: I can kick the denial, not the disease
ROB BORSELLINO • REGISTER COLUMNIST • February 23, 2005


I was slurring my words, I was tired and I felt weak. Friends kept asking if I was drinking again. Finally, I went to see a doctor.

I figured I'd give him my $20 co-pay, get a scrip for some useless pills, then go home and wait until I felt better.

But the doctor ran some tests and was spooked by what he saw. He sent me to a second doctor — a nerve specialist.

That guy ran more tests and at the end of the session he's telling me I have some fatal, incurable, exotic-sounding disease — amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.


Also called Lou Gehrig's Disease.

Then he's telling me most people only live a few years with this.

It's been a few months, and since that day I've had several other doctors around the country tell me pretty much the same thing.

Each time I hear it I'm in denial. I find myself sitting there avoiding the important stuff:

I won't be there for my sons' weddings, and I won't see the grandkids.

What about a will and life insurance?

Do I want to live strapped up to some breathing machine and a voice box?

Instead, I'm listening to the doctor and thinking about what a lousy year I'm having.

First my hair is getting thinner, and I have these bags under my eyes. My 29-inch waist is up to 30 and growing. The Yankees lost, and the Republicans won.

Or I'm sitting there trying to think of some positive angle, trying to find some lines to lighten things up.

I'm toying with the name. At least it's called Lou Gehrig's Disease and not Steinbrenner Syndrome or Dizzy Dean Disorder.

And once the word gets out, folks I run into will be asking about my health instead of getting in my face about the Register's liberal bias.

Sometimes it works, it takes my mind off what's really going on.

But then I try to button a shirt or make a phone call sounding sober, and I'm slapped back down to reality.

It happens when I look at my night table and see the little glass angel Laurie Gallo sent me from the Bronx, the angel blessed by Father Grippo at St. Theresa's.

It happens when I wake up in the middle of the night and my wife's lying there awake, thinking about how we went from planning our life as empty nesters to worrying about survival.

Or I hear that I'm being remembered in a Sikh temple in New Delhi at a prayer service put together by my in-laws.

Or a friend of a friend e-mails about a miracle-worker, a shaman in Brazil who might be worth seeing.

A half-dozen people are net surfing every day, checking out stem-cell research in Beijing and hearing about those rare cases of folks who live with this for as long as 30 years.

The phone rings, and it's Neal in San Francisco, Joey in Jersey or D.J. down in Kansas, old friends, guys I haven't talked with in years. They heard, and show up in Des Moines a few days later.

I find myself talking with St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes.

In the newsroom a guy I hardly know says: "If you or your family need anything, please tell me. I'm serious. Anything I can do."

Word has started getting around, and I'm hearing that from dozens of people. It's humbling.

I've gotten get-well cards from strangers, lunch and dinner invites from business types, and teary-eyed hugs from politicians.

Several folks asked when I was going to go public, when was I going to write about this.

I kept thinking: "When I have something to say."

Then the other night I was looking back over the past few months and realized there was a lot to be said.

And I was ready to say it.

*

To read about amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, see www.alsa.org/