Perhaps I should start with a story.
I first met Michael J. Fox in 2006, not long after Rush Limbaugh had mocked his involuntary movements caused by Parkinson’s disease. Michael was in Ohio for a rally in support of stem cell research that could save countless lives.
This is how I described our encounter in a book about my husband’s Senate campaign:
“It is heartbreaking to watch this gracious, talented actor and father of four struggle to perform the simplest of tasks like sitting still, for example, or completing a sentence. He has made it clear, time and again, that he does not expect to live long enough to benefit from the research he is championing and yet there he was, sitting onstage with Sherrod along with a number of other people afflicted with diseases that stem cell research might cure.
Connie Schultz
Perhaps I should start with a story.
I first met Michael J. Fox in 2006, not long after Rush Limbaugh had mocked his involuntary movements caused by Parkinson’s disease. Michael was in Ohio for a rally in support of stem cell research that could save countless lives.
This is how I described our encounter in a book about my husband’s Senate campaign:
“It is heartbreaking to watch this gracious, talented actor and father of four struggle to perform the simplest of tasks like sitting still, for example, or completing a sentence. He has made it clear, time and again, that he does not expect to live long enough to benefit from the research he is championing and yet there he was, sitting onstage with Sherrod along with a number of other people afflicted with diseases that stem cell research might cure.
As we work to defeat and recover from this pandemic, we must avoid the mistakes of past economic recoveries, and build back better for all families, in all comm
Connie Schultz
WASHINGTON It was around 8 o’clock on a recent Monday night, and my husband was yelling at the neighbors.
“Jackie! Kate! Jackie! Kate!”
“The lights are on.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Because it’s only 8 o’clock, and they aren’t 90. But they’re likely watching TV.”
This was the last leg of our walk in a gentle but persistent snowstorm. A half-hour earlier, Sherrod had looked out the front window and began lobbying.
“Look, it’s not bad at all.”
“It’s been snowing for hours,” I said.
“You like snow,” he said.
Fact.
Fact, again.
“Franklin and Walter need this walk,” he said. “Look at them.”