Today we’d like to introduce you to Latanya Morrison.
Hi Latanya, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
I have always been intuitive and possessed an UNWANTED spiritual connection to the universe. I used to think this connection was some kind of cruel curse (well not anymore) and I ALWAYS tried to explain this bizarre foresight and its occurrences away. My life’s lessons were the ones I sought, ones that were taught to me, ones I stumbled upon, and the ones I received from the hard knocks life sometimes hands to all of us. Those lessons helped me to prepare for what I know to be the reason for my existence, my true purpose in life. My UNWAVERING DEVOTION to Superhero Kids battling cancer and other life-threatening childhood diseases. So please bear with me as I take you on a quick tour of my 54 years on earth.
As a young girl growing up in the inner city, one of my favorite pastimes was playing pinball and arcade games. There were convenience stores at opposite corners of my row home. I remember the first time I knew something was different with me. I was playing pinball against a childhood friend (Kevin), when suddenly something came over me. I got extremely nervous, scared, started shaking, and felt like crying. That’s when I heard a loud thump, I turned around and it was Kevin. He fell to the floor and started shaking. Mr. Fulton (store owner), called 911. When the ambulance came and I learned Kevin had an epileptic seizure.
I couldn’t stop crying as I ran home for comfort from my Mother. When I told her what happened and as she cradled me in her arms, she said, “Our body has a way sometimes of letting us know when something is not right”. People call it your gut feeling. So if that happens again, run away, come home, or go somewhere you feel safe”.
A few years later my mother’s words rang true, when something similar happened again. But this time at the corner store at the opposite end of Mr. Fulton’s, (when I was a kid we didn’t dare address an adult by their first name, we knew to put a respectful handle of Mr. or Mrs. in front of their names. So regardless of the actual names of the stores, the neighborhood kids nicknamed them after the owners). This corner store was Mr. Al’s. I would go there to challenge the owner’s son in a game of Asteroids. If I won, he would pay for the next game and if he won, I would. It was a good deal for me, because I was so much better than he was. I had to be, after all I only had 50 cents to lose. Well, one day while playing Asteroids against Mr. Al’s son, I started shaking uncontrollably again, I became scared and started crying. Mr. Al in his heavy Spanish-speaking accent said, “what’s wrong with you Tanya?”. I said I have to go home, something bad is going to happen! As I was running to and out of the door, I heard him say, “You crazy Tanya”.
Once again. I told my Mother what happened, and this time when she cradled me she said, “good job baby you listened to your gut”. A few hours passed by, and my mother asked if I felt better? I said yes. She then asked me, If I felt good enough to go to Mr. Al’s to get her some cigarettes? I know it’s not allowed now, but back then all kids went to get their parent’s cigarettes. I told my mom I was ok and proceeded to walk to Mr. Al’s (everyone in the neighborhood knew his prices were cheaper than Mr. Fulton’s) as I approached the store there were cops everywhere. When I went inside Mr. Al pulled me to the side and said, “ You tell your mommy you have a gift”. He went on to tell me about the home invasion that happened directly across the street from his store. He said about ten minutes after I left the police were all over the place. Mr. Al said, “You no crazy Tanya, you have a gift”. A gift???? I thought to myself, it seems more to me like a CURSE! Well, not anymore (I will explain that sentiment later in my story)! I ran home and told my Mother exactly what Mr. Al said, and she responded did he give you a discount? And started laughing after she questioned me like a detective about the home invasion and then wrote it off as a coincidence. But even at eight years old, I knew this was far from a coincidence.
I was always very responsible, I guess that’s the case with most of the oldest Children. At 8 years of age. I knew how to cook, clean, grocery shop, pay bills, go to the laundromat to wash my family’s clothes, and knew how to care for my brothers (that’s if I wanted to go anywhere with my friends). Yes, my mother’s favorite words when I asked to go ANYWHERE were, take your brothers. I was truly my mother’s household assistant (lol).
As a child, I always put everyone else’s needs before mine. I was the kid that went to the store for my elders, shoveled the snow from their pavement, fed stray animals, and my childhood mischief (we all had some) was done secretly. I guess I didn’t want the adults to know, at times I was a mischievous kid too. But even then, my mother’s rules were ALWAYS my conscience. So, I had the attitude that we should always help one another at an early age. I was always bold but shy, super confident but uncertain, and outspoken but quiet.
Let me explain. Because of the era I grew up in, I was not allowed to talk back, or shall I say express my views or opinion. My mother parented with an iron fist. When she told me to do something, I was to do it, and while doing what I was told, “I BET NOT” (short for better not) look at her sideways or even breathe heavier than usual (LOL). I knew better! Therefore, my attitude, my anger, my happiness, my goals, my dreams and my aspirations were all reduced to writing. I loved to write and draw. They were my favorite pastimes, my way of communicating and expressing myself, although I was the only one to see it, it was VERY therapeutic for me. Lucky for me, my brothers weren’t the snooping type, and my parents weren’t readers. So, my words were between me, my mind, and the pen and paper I confided in.
I became a mother at the early age of 18. So, I didn’t always listen to the wisdom my mother passed on to me. But I have no regrets when it comes to my children. Like most parents, you want to give your children a better life than the one you had. Cierra (Ahmad’s mother) was my firstborn. I vowed to never give her all of the responsibilities (or chores) that I had growing up. And, if I ever had other children, she would NEVER be their caretaker.
I wanted the best for my children (seven years later I had my second child Latasha) and I wanted them to have better than I did as a child. I vowed to give them everything they needed and some of what they wanted. Which led me to accept a job at the young age of 21 as a Correctional Officer, later and before the age of 30 being promoted to the position of sergeant. The lesson I learned while doing my time in jail (LOL), was that everyone in prison ain’t guilty, and everyone free ain’t innocent!
My primary job as a parent was to provide for my babies, to keep them safe, and to protect their innocence. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for me, at a very young age I was raped by a family member (but that’s another story). This made me very protective of my children. I kept them so close, that some would say I was overly protective.
As Cierra got older, she couldn’t wait to get away from me, her overbearing Mother. My girls were not allowed to date or talk to boys on the phone until they were 16. But, Cierra became smitten with Duane (my son in-love, that I refer to as my son) and they secretly started dating at the age of 13. I wanted Cierra to go away to college but she didn’t want to leave Duane, so Cierra opted to go to Community College. She asked if she could stay with our cousin Nija, because she lived closer to college and it would be easier for her to commute. Because Nija was older and very responsible, I agreed.
One day Cierra came home and told me she had a stomach virus. YOU CANNOT FOOL YOUR MOTHER! I repeat, you can’t fool MOM, EVER! I felt it and my recurring fish dreams confirmed it. I said, Cierra, that is not a stomach virus. So, I went to the store and bought a pregnancy test. They named Cierra’s stomach virus Ashae Marie Butler (my Shazzafraz) my first grandchild. Then there was Ashad (my Shyshy), and two years later Ahmad (my Poodas). Cierra and Duane called their children the A-team (since all of their names begin with the letter A).
I never knew love like the love I felt for my grands. It’s truly AMAZING! Both of my Children have that strong intuition too. Latasha embraces it, Cierra not so much. Well, except for the time when she sought help from a psychiatrist. She had anxiety so bad and she told her psychiatrist that she had a feeling something was going to happen to one of her children. They put her on medicine to treat her anxiety and tried to help her overcome her darkest premonition. Unfortunately, her HORRIBLE premonition proved to be true.
As I said to you before, my “whatever” name you wanna give it has ALWAYS seemed like a curse to me. I always knew something was going to happen before it happened, these occurrences were never exact but similar. Let me explain. When I dreamed my Uncle Keith died, a few days later my Uncle Butch died (both were my mom’s brothers). I have unexplained, uncontrolled daydreams where I kind of drift off.
One day while visiting my grandmother (Big Mom) in the hospital. I kept drifting off, imagining a long black car, a white car, a blue car and then a red car in a line. I kept looking at Big Mom and drifting off to this same vision. She finally snapped me out of it with her super sharp tongue, she said, stop staring at me you little hussie and burst out laughing. I laughed too but my stomach was in knots when I realized my vision was of a funeral procession. I smiled instead of crying and said, “I am sorry Big Mom you caught me daydreaming”.
I did what I always do when I have a premonition that my emotions confirm are true. I called my Mom, and then her siblings, and then my siblings to let them know that Big Mom, the matriarch of our family did not have long to live. And everyone with the exception of my brother brushed me off, because she just pulled through a major, but successful surgery. Three days later my cousin Kissy called me, I remember saying to her I don’t want to talk to you Kissy! She interrupted me and said Tanya! But I was adamant, I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU KISSY! Because I knew the news she was calling to tell me. She then went on to say, “Big Mom died”.
I have had a lot of tragedy, hardships, and pain in my life. I believe that if you are fortunate to live long enough, life prepares you to be able to accept life’s ONLY PROMISE to us all, which is DEATH. And that is something I have dealt with a lot in the natural form and in horrible human form of murder. It is never easy, but it’s easier when the deceased loved one has had the opportunity to live a full life. That was the case with Big Mom, so after the initial shock. I was able to comfort those in need of my comforting.
That was up until it was time to leave, I remember the funeral director lining up the cars behind the long black hearse. He waved at a white car to get in line, then a blue car, and then he waved at me to get in line. As I drove my red car into the procession line, I saw my vision and cried uncontrollably. So much that I couldn’t drive.
As I said to you earlier. This feeling or premonition I get (I’ve always called it a curse) from my dreams and visions or being close to danger is not the only foresight or spiritual experience I get. Let me explain. I can ALWAYS differentiate between a premonition and a normal nightmare or dream. I can tell because I am not able to shake the feelings and fears associated with these dreams when I wake up. I also have night terrors (so they’re called) in these dreams, a heavy shadow holds me down, and I can’t breathe or move. When I am finally able to scream, the terroristic shadow releases me. My husband dismisses my screams as bad dreams. I dream of relatives that have passed on giving me messages of death that prove to be true days later.
Why am I telling you this? Let me explain. One day, while I was laying next to my husband preparing to go to sleep (only he and I were in the house). I felt the bed behind me sink down as if someone sat on my bed. When I looked up and I saw this HUGE SHADOW come over me (something like the night terrors but not as dark), it was as if it were comforting me, telling me that it was going to be alright. I started screaming Keith, Keith, do you see that? Again, he said Tanya you’re dreaming! I said I’m not, did you see that, he said, “see what?”.
When I told him what happened (I always tell people of my premonitions prior to the actual occurrence, just so people will know I am NOT imagining things or making things up), he tried to console me, but to no avail. SOMETHING WAS WRONG and I don’t mean little wrong; I mean BIG WRONG! I told everyone I talked to that something was wrong. My stomach has never felt like this before, I was grieving badly and worried HORRIBLY, and I have NEVER felt a spirit comfort me before while I was awake. Only in my dreams and the creepy night terrors.
I remember talking to my mom a few days later and she asked me if I felt any better. I said no Mom, something is wrong. She said everything will be alright trying her best to give me reassurance. But I knew better.
The next day my daughter brought the kids over. I had another fish dream so you know what that meant? Yup, Cierra was pregnant with Grandbaby number four, whom she and Duane later let Ahmad name. When you let an imaginative child name their baby sibling. You end up with name choices such as Cinderella if it’s a girl or Prince Charming if it’s a boy (lol). So my fourth Grandson’s name is Amari Prince “Charming” Butler, and boy does he live up to his name.
Back to my premonition. Ahmad and his Brother were playing a video game. When Ahmad (whom we have to literally drag away from the game after ten one more minutes) stopped playing and layed on the couch. I said Poo (he was my Poodadoo) what’s wrong baby? He said, “Grandmom, MY BRAIN HURTS!”. I thought this was it! This was my premonition. I told my daughter to take him to the hospital, we’ll keep the kids. My nerves were all over the place, my husband tried to ease my tension but he couldn’t. The phone rang, it was Cierra, she spoke no words, just belted a screeching cry that let me know she needed me. I started to put on my sneakers so I could get to my baby, both of my babies. It wasn’t until I got into the car that the phone call registered and her voice echoed in my ear. Mom, they found a mass on Ahmad’s brain and they think it’s cancer. They think it’s cancer, THEY THINK IT’S CANCER! That was all I heard over and over and over again during the 20-minute car ride to the hospital.
Once we arrived, Duane met us at the hospital. We were told they had to remove the mass that was found in the top of his brain, and surgery was scheduled in the morning. I had to use all of the strength I had inside of me, to be what my daughter and son needed me to be for them during this HORRIBLE TIME.
We were told that because of the location of the tumor, they couldn’t remove it completely, if they went too deep that he could possibly lose his memory, his ability to walk or possibly not survive the surgery. But Ahmad did it! He survived the surgery, he had feeling in his legs and he remembered us. But why did that feeling not leave me? Why am I grieving? Although I knew why I was not ready to admit it.
Ahmad was partially paralyzed in his left side and needed therapy, leg braces and had to learn how to walk again. Ahmad was later diagnosed as having an Ependymoma of the brain. A rare form of brain cancer. Although the surgery left Ahmad partially paralyzed on his left side, what he lost in feeling he gained in spirit. Ahmad constantly encouraged everyone he encountered with kind words and a warm smile.
Since Cierra was a high-risk pregnancy and Duane was a longshoreman (worked long hours) my husband and I decided to care for Ahmad. We kept him Monday thru Friday and he went with his parents Saturday and returned Sunday. Ahmad, like any other kid, did not want to leave his grandparent’s home. Unfortunately, his health declined fast. Keith and I (with his parents’ blessings) decided to care for Ahmad completely and not send him back home.
When we shared our good news, Ahmad said Hooray!!! We (Keith, Ahmad, The Cheetah Ahmad’s best friend and stuffed animal and I) celebrated by singing karaoke, using the tv remote as our microphone. Keith and I were singing silly songs like the wheels on the bus. When Ahmad busted our groove and said, “It’s my turn, it’s my turn”. We gave him the remote and Ahmad with Cheetah tucked under his arm (that’s mostly where he stayed) stood up and sang All of Me Loves All of You by John Legend. We DID NOT KNOW Ahmad (at the time this 5-year-old kid) knew this song. Afterward, Ahmad said, “Grandmom, grandpop do you know why I sang that song? Because me and Cheetah are HAPPY TO BE HOME WITH YOU” NOTE: remember this quote. This melted our hearts, Keith a I both sunk into the couch as we looked at Ahmad and then each other in amazement.
Ahmad NEVER ceases to amaze us. To help my baby deal with all that lies ahead of him, I deemed Ahmad a Superhero Kid (his mom nicknamed him Poodas). I renamed him Captain Poodaman and told him he was now a Superhero Kid. He adapted to his alter ego and whoever he went he punched his right fist in the air as he introduced himself as “Captaaaaaaaain Poodaman”. He loved his new name and Superhero image.
Before Ahmad’s death, I learned he wanted to be a Police officer. That didn’t surprise me because Ahmad loved helping others. One day as I was racing Ahmad to the ER of St Christopher’s Hospital for Children. I thought that this was the last time I would have with Captain Poodaman in his human form, knowing my Superhero’s battle was close to being over. As blood trickled down his nose, Ahmad told me in a frail, barely above a whisper voice that he was going to be a Police officer when he became an adult. His statement caught me off guard because I knew he would forever be a kid and for him adulthood would never come. He then asked if I thought he would be a good Police Officer? With a follow-up question, asking me if I thought he was going to help a lot of people.
What do you say to your dying Grandchild when he asks a question about and shares with you his adulthood goals? What do you say as he looks at you for reassurance and praise for choosing such an honorable, selfless, heroic profession? Although, you know he would not make it to adulthood. You do what any grandparent would do when posed with such inspiring thoughts. You allow him to live out his dream at that moment and then continue to honor his wishes long after his life on earth ends. Well, I did EXACTLY THAT! I praised and encouraged him, as he looked at me with a smile that melted my heart and broke it at the same time. It was at that moment that I made a silent promise to my sweet Grandson that he would help a lot of people. It was at that very moment that Forever Captain Poodaman! The Ahmad Butler Foundation was born.
The last weekend in October 2015, I treated my husband to a Cleveland Cavaliers game in Ohio (we stayed overnight) for his birthday. Keith is a big-time Lebron James fan. At this point, Ahmad was paralyzed from his waist down and I only felt comfortable leaving him at the hospital because no one could change his catheter but me.
That Sunday, the night we returned. I had a dream of my deceased biological father. Whenever I dream of dead relatives in my dream, I know they are dead throughout the dream. I remembered saying to my brothers (in my dream) after I found out they went to Atlantic City with my dad without me. Why didn’t y’all tell me dad came to visit (again, I knew he was dead). It was at that time I saw my dad wearing a white turban and a white robe, floating away from me and he was carrying something in his arms. I couldn’t make it out at first. But when I said, dad why didn’t you come to see me? He stopped and turned to look at me and it was at that moment I saw what he was carrying in his arms. It was my limp grandchild (I couldn’t make out which one though). He then said, I am not here for you Tanya and floated away.
The loss of breath woke me up, I couldn’t breathe. I remember going into the kitchen so I wouldn’t wake Keith up and crying and cursing my father and telling my deceased father out loud that he couldn’t have my baby. The anger and grief I felt at that moment was unexplainable. Keith tried to tell me later that it was a dream, but I knew better! Keith then called Duane (it was his turn to stay at the hospital with Ahmad) and once he got off the phone with Duane he told me, Duane said Ahmad was doing better. I still couldn’t shake this feeling. Our plan was for Cierra and Duane (they rotated spending the night in the hospital whenever Ahmad had to stay) to pick up Ahmad and bring him home on Monday. But I got another one of those chilling calls from my daughter. She said Mom Poo is not doing well, he can’t even talk.
Again we rushed to the hospital where we met with a team of doctors that said he had 24-48 hours left on earth. They asked if we wanted him to go home or stay at the hospital. I said WE are taking him home and sternly said “AHORA” which means now in Spanish, at that time I went into Captain Poodaman’s room (my Superhero Kid) and I said Poo you are going home, he punched his fist in the air and tried to say hooray, although no words came out I knew what he meant.
I don’t think the doctors thought he would survive the ambulance ride. Because Ahmad’s doctor rode with Duane in the Ambulance. The Physician Assistant and hospice nurse followed the ambulance to our home.
Once they got Ahmad settled and stable, everyone left except for family and the hospice nurse. At this point, he was being kept comfortable and was heavily sedated. Family members were in and out of our home, saying their goodbyes to Captain Poodaman. Latasha and her best friend Keisha came home from Penn State’s main campus and slept in the living room. Cierra, Duane, Ashae and Ashad slept in the room with Ahmad. Prince Charming (3 months old) slept with Keith and I. The last person left at around 2am. I gave Ahmad his 3 o’clock dose of morphine and told the hospice nurse that I was going to lay down.
Around 20 minutes after 3 there was a knock on my bedroom door. It was Latasha and she said the nurse wanted me. I learned that my Poodadoo stopped breathing. I woke everyone up and we gathered around his bed as the nurse listened through her stethoscope for his heart to stop beating. About 30 seconds later my POODADOO was gone.
I didn’t know what to do. My daughter lost it! I had to be strong for all of them. But how do I do that with a broken heart??? All I could think to do was wash my baby up one last time. And that’s what I did, I washed him up, lotioned him and put on his favorite batman pajamas with the cape attached. I remember Duane crying and wiping Captain Poodaman’s nose. His body started to return to the earth and was getting rid of its fluids, so his nose kept running.
It seemed like the coroner took forever to come but then left too fast. I dreaded having to get my daughter (who was sobbing while lying in the bed next to her son) out of the bed so the coroner could do his job. Although it took all of us to get Cierra to let Ahmad go, somehow we did. Cierra sobbed loudly as we all watched the coroner put our PRICELESS baby in a trash bag. I know they call it a body bag but it looked like a trash bag to me. I remember removing The Cheetah from Ahmad’s cold arm and saying I got him Poo, I’ll take good care of him for you. Everyone stayed in the house but I couldn’t. I walked behind the hearse for as long as I could see it. I remember thinking he didn’t know them. Where are they taking him? He’s going to be alone, I need to be with him. Why, why, WHY MY BABY??????
Ahmad used to always hug and kiss me and his grandfather. One day he had both of us in a headlock after he summoned us to come closer to him. I guess this was his way of giving us a hug. He said, “Grandmom, grandpop I love you more than anything, and I am going to love you more than anything even when I die!” My heart dropped to my feet. I gasped and said, “Poo you’re not going to die! Please don’t say that baby”. He said, “I mean it” and gave us both a sloppy kiss that left us wiping off our cheeks.
Now, remember earlier when I told you to remember the song All of Me? Well, Ahmad’s urn and The Cheetah have stayed with us since Ahmad’s Death. I have a debilitating bone degenerative disease. I had to have three bones in my neck replaced with donor bones and tissue fused together by a titanium plate with screws. This disease that has spread to my spine and feet makes it hard for me to walk. I have medical procedures I have to have at least 8 times a year to help me lead a somewhat normal life.
About two years ago my daughter was having a hard time and I asked if she wanted Poo (Ahmad’s urn), she said yes. Cierra came and picked up the urn, the picture of Ahmad I had alongside it and The Cheetah (Ahmad’s stuffed animal) and took them home. I immediately felt his absence as soon as she left. Let me explain. Every morning when I come downstairs, “I say goodmorning Poo” I turn on his light (we keep it on throughout the day), kiss his urn, rub and kiss the Cheetah and kiss his picture. That is how I have started my day since Ahmad’s death.
One day we kept Prince Charming and we planned to take him home before we went on our date night. When we got to my daughter’s house, the first thing I looked for was Ahmad’s urn. When I didn’t see it I asked Cierra, “Where is Poo” she said, “Oh, he’s in the closet”. I didn’t realize I was yelling until after I yelled, “IN THE CLOSET?” Cierra said, “Yes, mom I didn’t want Prince to knock him over and get hurt”. I said to Cierra, can I take him home? She said yes.
Keith secured Ahmad’s urn in the seatbelt and put The Cheetah in a seatbelt too, and I held his picture. We went out to eat and then afterward went home. Now my block is very quiet. There are mostly seniors that live on my block, so at 12am it is pin-drop quiet outside. Keith helped me in the house and sat me down in my favorite seat. Under my watchful eyes, he put Ahmad, The Cheetah, and Ahmad’s picture on his table. Asking me if it was right? I said, “Yes baby, thank you!”. I was so happy to have him back home, Keith said, I’ll get the rest of your stuff out of the car after I come from the bathroom. That was fine by me because I had my Poodadoo back. All of the sudden I hear this noise and say what a weird coincidence. Where is that coming from? I stumble to the door and look outside, it’s pitch black and pin drop quiet out there.
I remember thinking to myself, this is no coincidence. At that time Keith was scared because he didn’t know why I had gotten up by myself. He comes running down the stairs. What are you doing up he said in a raised voice? By then I already closed the door and said, Do you hear that? (my husband, although I have proven it to him over and over again, does not believe in stuff that he can’t see) He said, hear what? What are you talking about? I said stop talking and listen, he stopped talking immediately. He did EXACTLY what I did and ran to the door for a logical explanation for this occurrence.
Once he realized no one was outside of our home, his eyes grew LARGE and he stared at me and I stared at him as he plopped down onto the couch. And for at least 30 seconds all we both could hear was Ahmad’s voice singing All of me loves all of you, All of me loves all of you, All of me loves all of you, over and over again until just like that it was gone. It was at that moment that I realized that this was truly a gift and not a curse. I remember saying to him I can’t wait to tell EVERYBODY, he responded as only he would with, well I’m not telling anybody. They are not gonna think I’m crazy like they think you are (LOL).
Captain Poodaman was letting us know that he and The Cheetah were happy to be home with us again. I know you asked for a brief story. But I wanted to let everyone know my inspirations for starting this Foundation. I remember the devastation of this HORRID storm these families are going through. Had it not been for the kindness of Beautiful Strangers, that reached into our families storm and guided us through it and beyond it. I would not be here now. The death of a child is so unnatural and taboo that people don’t talk about it. The ones that do talk about it are the unfortunate ones that have experienced this TREMENDOUS LOSS!
I remember my daughter and son wanted to create a nonprofit in honor of their son prior to his death. One that supported Children with cancer. My daughter had AMAZING ideas for the would be Foundation. But when she set out to bring the Foundation and her ideas to fruition, the devastation of losing Ahmad was just too much for her. I promised my Cierra and Duane that I would take over and carry out their wishes. So, when I feel depleted, overwhelmed, and incompetent. I let my promise to my Grandson, my daughter and son become my helium, my tenacity, my confidence, and my guiding light.
A seed was planted in me during the last eight months of my Grandson’s life and death and then beyond. By my grandson, my daughter and son and the unbelievable gift of humanity and love that was showered upon my family during our life’s most DEVASTATING STORM from complete strangers. This storm is everlasting and does not go away. But, it has subsided long enough for me to gain strength and learn how to use its liquid to nurture the seed that was planted.
After years of grieving, growing, pondering, planning and more nurturing that seed grew into a fruitful tree named Forever Captain Poodaman! The Ahmad Butler Foundation, and nicknamed ABF. This tree’s main purpose is to provide shelter for the unfortunate families, in the midst of the storm childhood cancer and other childhood life threatening diseases relentlessly spew on earth’s most innocent inhabitants. OUR CHILDREN!
The act of supporting the needs of the children we serve is one that is unforgettable to coping families. And although I NEVER need a reminder I got one. I couldn’t shake this feeling again when I looked at my husband (also my right-hand man at ABF). He tried to get me to stop worrying about him. I couldn’t shake that feeling and scheduled a visit to his PC Physician and made him promise me he would go. In September 2021 my husband was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. Although his surgery was considered a success then, we later learned in January 2022 that Keith’s cancer metastasized and he needed radiation treatment. Keith never wallowed in self-pity and continued to support the Superhero Kids we serve throughout his fight. Saying that he gains strength from the love he has for Ahmad and the commitment to the Superhero Kids we serve.
The mission of Forever Captain Poodaman! The Ahmad Butler Foundation (ABF) gives birth to kinships and friendships between the supporters and those needing support. And creates familial relationships between ABF’s devoted Volunteers.
Ninety five percent of ABF’s Volunteers and Leaders are teachers, and most are from Ann Frank Elementary School, Ahmad’s former school. They have become my family. A family that was both born to me and brought to me, they are: Keith Morrison, Gina Conallen, Regina Banks, Marlena Benson, Mike Tenney, Kristin Tenney, Giovanna Bailey, Ramona Butler, Susan Yerkes, Precious Davis, Collette Clark-Stelmach, and Chrissy Del Rossi, Cierra Butler, Duane Butler, Ashae Butler, Ashad butler, Amari Prince Charming Butler and Latasha stephenson.
There are PLENTY of times when I feel depleted, and inadequate. During these times when I feel my best is not good enough and I feel I can’t stand on my own, I fall back into the LOVING, RELIABLE ARMS of the pillars of The Ahmad Butler Foundation. And not only do they catch me, but they push me upright and hold me there until I can stand on my own again. Not only do I SHOUT OUT all of the aforementioned individuals but I LOVE THEM FOR MAKING ME A BETTER PERSON!
They hide in my shadow and do the work of our Foundation, not caring about recognition but about carrying out our Foundation’s mission. They are truly the wind beneath the wings of The Ahmad Butler Foundation. The Foundation’s accomplishments are due to their hard work. They are true HUMANITARIANS, motivated by our Foundation’s promise to the Superhero Kids we serve and their families.
In closing on behalf of ABF and my family, I thank you for giving your time to bring awareness to our Foundation and its worthy cause.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
No, it has not been a smooth road at all. ABF was awarded our 501C3 (nonprofit status) in January 2020 right before the global pandemic and shutdown. Therefore all of the planning of fundraisers and events to get ABF out there and jump-start our mission went up in smoke. We had to go back to the drawing board and find virtual ways to carry out our mission and we did EXACTLY THAT! We launched our COVID-19 Relief Program. Reaching out to Children’s Hospital Of Philadelphia (CHOP), St Christopher’s Hospital for Children, Nemours Dupont, Ronald McDonald House, and Shriners to find out what each hospital needed for themselves as well as needs the families we serve had.
We were able to provide groceries and scarce toiletries to over 400 families and completely stocked the inpatient pantries of St Christopher’s Hospital For Children and Both of Philadelphia Ronald McDonald Houses.
We partnered with the Philadelphia Police Department, The Mummers String Band Association, PA National Guard, Snow White, The Black Panther, and Ironman and performed a social distance parade for the Children hospitalized in St. Christopher’s Hospital for Children and Ronald McDonald House.
Shipped and delivered over 400 Captain Poodaman Care Packages filled with snacks, toys, superhero capes, and Chick Fil-A gift cards to hospitals and homes of Superhero kids we serve.
Every year we host our annual National Ahmad “Captain Poodaman” Butler Day aka Pooday. A day to honor, encourage, and celebrate the children we serve. Because of the threat to life these diseases pose, some In 2021 we had a silly hat virtual pizza party for over 600 participants. On Pooday we honored the children we serve (we call them Superheroes) in the presence of their family, medical caretakers, and ABF donors.
We partnered with pizzerias throughout 5 states (Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Delaware, Minnesota, and Vermont) who donated over 300 pizza pies to hospitals and the homes of Pooday participants. We mailed and delivered snacks, party favors, silly hats, medals of bravery for the Superhero Kids we serve, beverages, interactive games, and prizes. Throughout Pooday EVERYONE wore their silly hats even the doctors and nurses. The global pandemic strengthened ABF by teaching us the need for an emergency preparedness plan.
The second challenge was my youngest daughter Latasha Stephenson’s dying love for acting. I always told her she had a knack for crying at the drop of a dime (lol), and encouraged her to go after her dream of becoming an actor. Although it was not an easy move Latasha decided to relocate to California in pursuit of her dream. My children have always been within a car ride away from me just in case they needed me. Having a child, my baby moving so far away was heartbreaking and worrisome. But I had no choice but to accept and support her. Although she’s far away, she still volunteers with ABF remotely whenever I need her help.
The Third Challenge was when my husband (Keith) was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer, that the treatment did not cure.
And lastly, the vehicle that was donated to our Foundation to make deliveries to hospitals and the families we serve was recently stolen. I was asked if this theft will stop my mission. My response is NOTHING will stop me from carrying out our mission. This is a dilemma or shall I say an obstacle, another hurdle for our Foundation to PROUDLY LEAP over to continue to serve these AWESOME SUPERHERO KIDS!!
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar, what can you tell them about what you do?
We understand that some of the Superhero Kids will not win their battles and like my grandson will succumb to their diseases. Therefore, in addition to carrying out our mission, Forever Captain Poodaman! The Ahmad Butler Foundation prides ourselves in creating “WONDERFUL DISTRACTIONS” for the families we serve.
We solicit various donations, some of them being once in a lifetime occurrences, that Superhero Kids and their families can participate in together. When the families we serve are enjoying themselves during ABF’s Wonderful Distractions, and although it’s only for a moment, they are not thinking about these deadly diseases. They are smiling, laughing, and sharing precious moments together as a family. These “Wonderful Distractions” become EVERLASTING priceless memories for the families we serve to cherish FOREVER!
ABF’s recently launched our Digital Learning Program (DLP). The DLP was developed to help address Chronic Absenteeism for the children we serve who attend schools throughout the United States. Our Foundation believes that in order to effectively address this problem, children battling life threatening illnesses should not be deprived of a QUALITY EDUCATION just because they are sick. Having personal computers at home and at their treating hospitals will afford them the ability to continue receiving a QUALITY EDUCATION remotely.
ABF will donate 154 Captain Poodaman Computer Carts stocked with a total of 30,800 Chromebooks or laptops to hospitals in the USA. Children’s hospitals in California that will benefit from this program are Children’s Hospital Los Angeles (CHLA), UCSF Benioff Children’s Hospital Oakland, Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital, Miller Children’s Hospital, Mission Hospital (Mission Viejo, California), Pacific Dispensary for Women and Children, Rady Children’s Hospital, UC Davis Medical Center, UCLA Mattel Children’s Hospital, UCSF Benioff Children’s Hospital, Valley Children’s Hospital, and Children’s Health of Orange County. In addition, we will give 1,200 personal computers to children we serve in need, that are being treated at said hospitals.
Next to sick child’s families their school and classmates become their biggest supporters when they are hospitalized. In their abnormal lives, every last one of these Superhero Kids craves a sense of normalcy. Believe it or not, participating in their schooling and being able to see their teachers and classmates fills that void. These AMAZING children stand a better chance of not falling behind when they are able to learn remotely while hospitalized or during at home recovery. Please help our Foundation wipe out Chronic Absenteeism in the United States of America with a donation by visiting www.ahmadbutler.foundation and selecting donate.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story. In closing I would leave you with our Foundations motto. Which is, “In order for humanity to exist, we must care for one another”. -ABF
