Inspirational Stories

Thank you on behalf of the Freeman Wilner Family for this Honored Hero Award in memory of my father, Dr. Freeman Wilner, he was a hero to many.

Dr. Wilner was a pioneer in the field of clinical oncology. When he began practicing, there weren’t many options for treatment ― he provided compassion and hope for his patients during those difficult years. Over time, thanks to organizations such as The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS), research resulted in significant treatment advancements that offered better chances of survival. During my Dad’s career as a physician, his compassion and concern for increasing life quality and expectancy for patients were always primary. He never gave up hope for a positive outcome, and his patients always were foremost in his mind.

I remember his dedication on one cold February morning many years ago after a major snowstorm, Dad got in his rear-wheel-drive car and made it about 100 yards down the street before he got stuck. A snowstorm was not going to keep him from the hospital to make his daily rounds. He trudged back home to get help pushing the car out of the way and then walked out to the major road near our home and proceeded to hitchhike to the hospital.

Dad was also an incredible teacher. I had the opportunity to witness him teach new groups of physicians. He always made sure that the residents were well-prepared and performed thorough exams. He would say, “Above all, do it with kindness and care.” When he would do something for a patient that required more time than necessary, someone might ask, “Why are you doing it that way?” He would always respond, “Because it is the right thing to do.”

Dr. Wilner touched people’s lives in many ways. Even those that had never met him have been inspired by him. As I ran the Country Music Half Marathon with Team In Training, I had a picture of my Dad pinned to my back, and at the end of the race, a woman approached me to ask about him. She said seeing his picture inspired her to keep her pace and endure until the finish. At the Bayshore Marathon, I was approached by someone that currently works at my Dad’s old office. He never met my Dad but reports all the wonderful memories that are still shared in the office each and every day. Dr. Wilner’s legacy lives on: My brother Jeff is a physician and works at Beaumont Hospital. Frequently a staff member or patient asks if he is related to “the” Dr. Wilner. He then gets to hear a great “Freeman Wilner” story from them and how much they miss him. Jeff has had patients ask if they can then hug him, to reconnect in a way to our loss of Freeman. Jeff is honored to have a “Dr. Wilner” continue on at Beaumont.

A room on the oncology floor at William Beaumont Hospital has been designated as the Freeman Wilner Family Room. It is a room that allows patients and physicians a private, comfortable area when dealing with the seriousness of their illness. A plaque outside the room reads, “The outstanding commitment to his patients, his guidance, and his support to the education of physicians and nurses will continue to influence the present and future of medical oncology and hematology. In further recognition of his lifelong efforts and inspiration to others, The Freeman Wilner Foundation is being established to perpetuate the integrity and compassionate care that Dr. Wilner has always shown.”

Dr. Wilner was born June 14, 1926, and sadly passed away from acute myelogenous leukemia (AML) on April 24, 2002. It is sadly ironic that the cancers he fought professionally for 46 years became his fate. During his personal struggle, giving up was not an option; he and my mom, Marjorie, were strong in the face of the inevitable. Their courage remains a most vivid memory of that time. Dad was fortunate to have such a supportive spouse, not only then but throughout his career.

His philosophy was to always fight back as one never knows how things will turn out. The dignity with which he conducted himself in the remaining months of his life was a lesson for the family, a lasting gift to us. Even as he spent his last week of life in the hospital, he continued to teach the various residents that came through his door. Nervously, they entered the room, and after a quick visit and exam along with some of those teachings, they left the room a little more knowledgeable.

I feel I was destined to become involved with Team In Training.

About a week before my father passed away, I received an invitation to join the Team. We all owe a debt of gratitude to George Cleland who was inspired to create Team In Training in honor of his daughter who was battling leukemia in 1988. You see, with tragedy in our lives, we grapple for meaning, as there is always a lesson to be learned. My lesson is this: George Cleland gave us two gifts ― one for those suffering from blood-borne cancers and another for those who have lost a beloved to the diseases and wish to make a difference. My involvement in Team In Training is my way of carrying on Dad’s legacy to fight these horrific diseases. I will be completing my 12th event in three weeks in Anchorage, Alaska.

As advertised in the promotional video, Team In Training is a life-changing event. I have met such incredible, unselfish people, many of who get involved just because they want to help. During the past six years, my involvement has been reaffirmed by what I call “signs.” For example, at the Virginia Beach Half Marathon, the honored hero was a 5-year-old girl named Lindsey Brooke Miller. My oldest daughter is named Lindsey and my younger daughter is named Brooke . . .  Race day in Nashville fell on the second anniversary of my Dad’s death, and the honored hero in Nashville was named Grace, which is my wife’s name. While these signs certainly reinforce my involvement, as long as I can put one foot in front of the other, I will continue this crusade in honor and memory of my Dad. My own personal mantra has become, “Until there is a cure, there is no finish line.”

Dr. Wilner was honored at this very event in 2000 as the Honored Guest. Being a humble man, not one to boast even to his family, we learned of the 2000 honor only after the fact.

Dad, we didn’t know of your award in 2000, but we sure know about the one you are receiving tonight. We are all here, and wow(!) are we proud of you. Your legacy lives on.