They're seemingly different families, bound by heartache and hope.
In May 1999, Annette Stidham was 9 years old and on the verge of death, awaiting a liver transplant.
In May 1999, Dalton Folwell was 7 years old. He died after being struck by a car whose driver passed a stopped school bus in Dalton's Winston-Salem neighborhood.
Stidham got Dalton's liver. The families had long wondered about each other's identity. This fall, Dalton's father, state Rep. Dale Folwell, got in touch with the Stidhams.
"Right now, I don't see black or white, I don't see Republican or Democrat," said Annette's mother, Toy Stidham of Augusta, Ga. "I see life, and that's what Dale represents for me."
She's a black Democrat. Folwell is a white Republican.
When I started writing this column Monday, the fact that a black family and a white family could come together seemed like a big deal. Maybe the political differences still are. But the election Tuesday of Barack Obama as the country's first black president was a major milestone in the long road toward leaving our national obsession with race behind.
Sure, many people probably voted against Obama or for him because of his race. But we're hearing that a lot of the young people voting for the first time in this race just aren't hardwired to constantly think of skin color, like so many of the rest of us are.
Race sure doesn't matter to the Stidhams and Folwells. "Just talking to her (Annette) was one of the largest blessings in my life, after my marriage and our children," Dale Folwell said.
He just won a third term in the state House Tuesday, where he's established himself as soft-spoken and effective. He sees a problem and gets legislation passed to fix it. He got a bill passed in the summer of 2007 that helped shorten the organ-donation process in this state, and lowered the minimum age for donating blood from 17 to 16. The law has already helped increase the number of organ transplants.
His son's death was among the untimely deaths Folwell had in mind as he worked on the legislation. Dalton's liver saved Annette Stidham, but Folwell knew that transplants should be saving more people.
Stidham, a high-school senior in Augusta who was living in the Raleigh area when she received the transplant, also keeps Dalton's memory alive. She treasures a photo of him. From his family, she's learned that he was good at math, just as she is. She also learned that he was kind-hearted, just as she aspires to be. "It's great to have somebody like that be a part of me," she said.
Toy Stidham said that the initial call from the Folwells was overwhelming for her and her daughter. "We cried a river," she said.
The call was overwhelming for the Folwells as well. "We were all just smiling and holding back tears all at the same time," said Dale Folwell's wife, Synthia.
The families have continued to correspond.
They plan a face-to-face meeting soon, perhaps over the Thanksgiving or Christmas holidays. Annette Stidham plans to attend the Folwell family reunion next year.
She thinks of the Folwells as family, and they feel the same way. "When we found Annette, in a kind of small way we gained a child. … Her picture's going on our family wall along with all our family members', for sure," Synthia Folwell said.
Annette Stidham talks about her future plans with the Folwells and their children. She wants to get a master's degree in mathematics and teach algebra. "I feel like I have a lot of people counting on me to succeed," she said.
"I'm just overwhelmed that I'm able to hear from them and be a part of their family. That's the biggest thing that I'm thrilled about -- that I know I have somebody like Dalton as a part of me."
Dale Folwell is happy that his son's liver went to good use. "In my job as an accountant and as a legislator, I'm just so focused on how we increase the return on something of value," he said. "And now we've taken Dalton's liver and placed it in someone who has incalculable possibility."
The Folwells and Stidhams have a bond that few black families and white ones share. But in the months ahead, I suspect more and more whites and blacks will realize we're more alike than different.
We need to learn from our shared history of slavery, civil war, Reconstruction and Jim Crow, but we can't forever argue about that history when we should be moving forward together.
Toy Stidham said, "People used to ask me: ‘I wonder if her donor is black or white.' I would say, ‘It really doesn't matter.'"
And it just may be that we've all started on the road to the point where race will be irrelevant.
■ John Railey writes local editorials for the Journal.
He can be reached at jrailey@wsjournal.com.
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