In the early 1990s Steve Orcutt and I took Frank Hemphill to Kansas City for dinner and a game at Royals Stadium. The occasion was a retirement party for a Humboldt High science teacher and coach we both loved dearly.
It was anything but a run of the mill event. Frank was suffering from terminal kidney disease and had been on dialysis for some time, with exchanges at home coming every few hours.
Just before we pulled away from the Hemphills’ home, wife Dorothy reminded Frank he’d be gone longer than he should. “That’s OK,” he announced. “I’ve been wondering how long I could go.” Dorothy frowned, shook her head as wives do when their husbands get stupid, and walked back into the house.
As far as I know, the night out didn’t have any adverse bearing on Frank’s health, and we had a whale of a time — the Royals even won.
Fast forward to today.
The Hemphills both have died. At age 35 their daughter, Jane Stout, was diagnosed with the same affliction that affected her dad, polycystic kidney disease. The disease is deadly because cysts grow within kidneys and over time consume the vital organs. In 2006, with the disease having a more prominent present, Jane, 54, retired from teaching business classes at Iola High. She moved to Wichita to work in accounting and IT for her brother, Rick, at his company, Mid Continent Controls, in Derby.
Nine years later the disease had progressed to the point that Jane was on the cusp of having to start dialysis. She announced a second retirement, knowing dialysis would make it difficult to follow a daily work schedule.
A transplant was the only hope, and none of her family members was eligible, some also being at risk for the disease, or otherwise not genetically compatible.
Jane always was an outgoing and friendly type, from her days at Humboldt High and in work at IHS and in Derby.
A story in Sunday’s Wichita Eagle tells how much she has touched others’ lives, to the point that a co-worker stepped forward. After a battery of physical and psychological tests found him a “one in a 100,000” match, Jason Jester, 38, didn’t bat an eye. Nor did his wife Stacie, a close friend of Jane’s,
The transplant occurred on Feb. 9 at KU Medical Center, and Jane’s future looks much brighter because of her “gift of life,” not just for herself but also for her children and grandchildren.
