Bikers Bring Christmas miracles

Pint-sized patients well enough to leave their rooms waited in front of the hospital bundled in blankets.

Nothing would stop them. They came dragging IVs, pulled in wagons by mom, pushed in wheelchairs by nurses, and in masks covering their faces to protect them from germs.

Though it sounds like a disheartening scene, their eyes and smiles told a different story. In fact, the youngsters were so happy to see Santa, no one seemed to notice that something was missing.

Instead of arriving in a sleigh pulled by eight tiny reindeer, he hung on the outside of a white pickup truck, leading the way for more than 150 leather-clad elves on Harleys.

"I can't wait to see Santa," grinned 9-year-old Stephanie Campos.

Stephanie is fighting leukemia. With her weakened immune system, she was one of the youngsters who watched his arrival from the lobby's window. The thick pane of glass in no way hindered her enthusiasm.

Stephanie understood Santa would greet the children waiting outside before making his way inside and that was OK; this was someone worth the wait.

"I want Bratz for Christmas," she said, referring to a popular line of dolls.

Bratz were included in the mountains of toys, games and stuffed animals the bikers brought for the hospitalized children, for this, the 14th annual Loma Linda University Children's Hospital Toy Run.

The event, sponsored by the Motorcycle Riders Association and Chaparral Riders, was open to all riders, and many area groups participated.

Club members and individual riders met at Quaid Harley-Davidson in Loma Linda, where they registered for the run, dropped off a toy and participated in several fundraising activities. The event resulted in proceeds of more than $4,500 donated to the hospital.

For the past 13 years, the ride has been held in the memory of Ashton Van Ashley, an infant boy who died at the hospital on Aug. 5, 1993, while waiting for a heart transplant. He was 54 days old.

His parents, George and Terri Ashley, have memorialized their son through annual unselfishness.

"This is the most important day of the year for me," said Terri, speaking of the Toy Run, which this year was on Dec. 17.

Three years after Ashton's death, Terri gave birth to twin girls, Nicky and Lacy. The Ashleys participate in the toy distribution as a family.

"When Ashton first passed away, I didn't ever want to step foot in that hospital again," Terri said. "But when my sister-in-law wanted to dedicate the run to Ashton, I did want to go back; I wanted to go back for the children."

Each year, the Ashleys donate a rocking chair to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit with Ashton's name on a gold plate affixed to the back. Terri Ashley remembers the shortage of rockers when she was at the hospital wanting to hold her son and rock him to sleep.

This year, along with the rockers, Terri, with the help of many family and friends, donated more than 60 handmade fleece blankets.

"After I lost Ashton, I slept with his blanket for a year and a half," she said, beginning to cry. "Being in the hospital every day for days and days is awful. I couldn't even imagine being there for the holiday season."

Someone who can imagine that scenario all too well is Daniel Jirschefske and his family. This is the third year in a row Daniel, 18, has heard the roar of motorcycle engines zoom into Loma Linda.

"He just always seems to get sick during the holidays," said Daniel's mother, Susan.

The motorcycle Santa has visited Daniel each time he's been in the hospital, and this year was no different, bringing him a metal race car and a new CD player.

Daniel started life pretty much the same way Ashton had - needing a heart transplant. Unlike Ashton, when Daniel was 3 weeks old, he got his heart.

"We are so thankful for organ donations," Susan said.

A new heart gave Daniel a chance for life, but, as with all transplants, he takes several medications to keep that heart healthy. Some of the medications suppress his immune system, which makes him susceptible to illness and lands him in the hospital more than the average person.

This year, there's a good chance he's spending today in the hospital. But don't be sad for the Jirschefske family. For them, Christmas is anywhere they can be together.

If need be, they'll bring the tree, presents and holiday cheer to Daniel's hospital room.

"There's no way I would be anywhere else but here," said Daniel's sister, Jenny, 21. "He's my brother. I can't imagine having Christmas without him."

Many people express sympathy because the family must spend so much time at the hospital, but Susan Jirschefske has a different take on the situation.

"People think it's so sad that we have to be in the hospital for Christmas, but they don't understand," she said. "We are lucky to be in this hospital where there are all these people helping him. He's been so close to not making it so many times, we're so blessed he's still alive. So we don't care if we're here for Christmas.

"Being together is our Christmas miracle.