SAM and Donna Collins looked like any other couple failing to negotiate a baby stroller through the crowded midway of a state fair. Collins gave us
a glimpse of
faith, courageOn this early summer afternoon in 1997, the couple already knew their lives were about to change forever. She had been diagnosed with a particularly aggressive form of breast cancer and would eventually be told she had a survival rate of five-in-one-hundred.
The public announcement came later that summer. It put into motion a swift ball of aloha spirit that not only produced $70,000 to help cover the mounting medical bills, but instilled in the Collins' family the belief that a community working together can make a difference.
At that moment on the monstrous midway, Sam would have settled for a third hand as the Hawaii defensive end tried to make it to a distant kiddie ride without dumping little Sam on his 2-year-old head.
Cotton candy in one hand and a baby bag every mother has packed at one time or another strapped over his other shoulder, Big Sam wasn't doing a particularly smooth job of pushing the stroller over the myriad miles of cables needed to energize Hawaii's 50th State Fair.
BUT instead of throwing the cotton candy to the ground and angrily handing the baby bag to Donna in a fit of frustration, Big Sam stopped a second, looked over at his wife, shook his head and began to laugh out loud.
She checked on little Sam, gave Big Sam a much-needed hug and took the cotton candy away in order to lend her husband a hand he so desperately needed.
Now, that hand is gone.
Donna Collins died Wednesday morning from a disease that has probably touched the lives, in one way or another, of every person on this planet. According to family and friends, she passed quietly.
Had she not had the expensive bone marrow transplant that many people here in Hawaii and on the mainland helped make happen with their donations of time and money, it's unlikely Donna would have lived as long and as well as she did.
Last April, Sam attended his final spring practices as a student coach. He would earn his degree in May and was close to moving his family to Wichita, Kan.
Sam landed a coaching job at Independence (Kan.) Community College, about 90 miles to the east. He knew there would be a lot of driving involved each day, but after what he and Donna had been through, it would be easy.
"Donna is fine, all the cancer is gone, but she's not out of the woods yet," a happy Sam Collins said seven months ago. "She's in remission, but these next few months are critical for us.
"I know I've said this before, but we couldn't have done it without all the support of everyone in Hawaii. Donna talks about that all the time. She has told everyone in Kansas about the aloha spirit.
"I could have gone to some other schools after junior college, but I chose here. I didn't know why then, but now I do. I'm thankful."
IN actuality, we should be thanking them for showing us what faith and courage can do when matched against real adversity. Granted, UH head coach Fred vonAppen, his staff and players are mired in a crisis of their own. But Sam Collins would trade with all of them in a heartbeat for just one more day with Donna.
No, it doesn't mean we shouldn't be concerned with the plight of the program. It does say, however, that we should keep everything in perspective and realize life won't end because of an 0-and-12 season.
Tomorrow night, Hawaii will try to avoid that possible reality by beating San Jose State. It's Homecoming. It should be a festive evening for all involved.
But before the Rainbows and Spartans do battle, perhaps a moment of silence is in order to remember a wife and mother of a family far away. Her helping hand may be gone, so let's extend ours and be thankful Sam and Donna Collins were a part of our lives.
Paul Arnett has been covering sports
for the Star-Bulletin since 1990.