Mr. Rogers was a friend to everyone. But to one sick little girl, he was a life saver

Beth’s con­di­tion caused her to have 100 seizures a day. Mirac­u­lous­ly, the only time she would­n’t seize was while watch­ing Mr. Rogers’ Neigh­bor­hood.

MARTHA’S VINEYARD, MA — As cool­er tem­per­a­tures mark the descent of fall upon Martha’s Vine­yard, Beth Ush­er tries to soak in the final moments of sum­mer. She spends her days relax­ing on the porch of her family’s home, sur­round­ed by friends.

Friends like Lady Elaine Fairchild, King Fri­day XIII, Queen Sara Sat­ur­day and Daniel Striped Tiger. Sound famil­iar? They’re the pup­pets Mis­ter Rogers brought to life in his neigh­bor­hood of make-believe.

While the pup­pets are friends to mil­lions, to 39-year-old Beth, they’re espe­cial­ly pre­cious. Since child­hood, they’ve always been there for her, in both sick­ness and in health.

Over 30 years ago, Beth was at school dur­ing her first week of kinder­garten when her moth­er, Kathy, received a call from the prin­ci­pal. Beth had a seizure. Kathy rushed her daugh­ter to the hos­pi­tal. After ample test­ing, doc­tors couldn’t find the prob­lem and sent Beth home.

A few days lat­er, Beth had anoth­er seizure. Then anoth­er. And anoth­er.

“With­in a short peri­od of time, we real­ized that the left hemi­sphere [of Beth’s brain] was slow­ly shrink­ing. [The doc­tors] had no idea what was going on,” said Kathy.

Beth began los­ing func­tion in the right side of her body. She could no longer go to school, eat with­out assis­tance or sim­ply be alone.

While dis­traught, their fam­i­ly was deter­mined to find answers – despite the doc­tors’ inabil­i­ty to give any. Kathy and Beth’s father, Bri­an, spent much of their time tak­ing Beth from doc­tor to doc­tor, but no one could fig­ure out what was going on.

“What was scary for all of us was that with each day, her brain cells were dying, and the longer we wait­ed… what was going to be left? We were pet­ri­fied,” said Kathy.

As the Ush­er family’s ter­ror wors­ened, so did Beth’s seizures. Even­tu­al­ly, she had around 100 seizures a day.

“It was like being on a roller­coast­er, and you can’t get off,” recalled Beth.

In the non-stop roller­coast­er of seiz­ing, there was a moment of relief in the form of Fred Rogers. Mirac­u­lous­ly, dur­ing the 30 min­utes when Mis­ter Rogers’ Neigh­bor­hood aired, Beth nev­er had a seizure.

“I found his voice com­fort­ing. I felt like he was talk­ing to me and nobody else,” said Beth.

Besides her broth­er, friends for Beth were few and far between due to her con­di­tion. Mr. Rogers not only pro­vid­ed alle­vi­a­tion, he also pro­vid­ed friend­ship. Beth would talk to the screen, say­ing she loved him at the end of each episode.

Mr. Rogers quick­ly became a sta­ple in the Usher’s home as they con­tin­ued their fran­tic research. After what felt like an eter­ni­ty, they final­ly got an answer.

“One doc­tor final­ly said there’s this one-in-ten-mil­lion brain dis­ease, it’s extreme­ly rare, there’s no cure for it,” said Kathy.

(Cour­tesy of the Ush­er fam­i­ly)

It was Rasmussen’s encephali­tis, a rare inflam­ma­to­ry neu­ro­log­i­cal dis­ease that only affects one hemi­sphere of the brain. While there’s still no known cure, Doc­tor Ben Car­son per­formed suc­cess­ful surg­eries on a few patients in the late 80s. In the surgery, doc­tors would remove half of the patient’s brain that was affect­ed by the dis­ease.

After much con­tem­pla­tion, Beth’s par­ents decid­ed the surgery, which would remove Beth’s brain’s left hemi­sphere, was the only way for their daugh­ter to get any relief.

But they were ter­ri­fied. So, Kathy decid­ed to con­tact the man who had pro­vid­ed her fam­i­ly some relief and hap­pi­ness dur­ing the dif­fi­cult time.

She called the Mis­ter Rogers Neigh­bor­hood stu­dio and spoke with the sec­re­tary, explain­ing the sit­u­a­tion and ask­ing if she could get a signed copy of Mr. Rogers’ pic­ture for Beth.

Less than an hour lat­er, the sec­re­tary called back with a spe­cial mes­sage.

“‘Will you be home this evening at 7? Fred would like to call and speak with Beth,’” the sec­re­tary told Kathy. “He called, and I said to Beth, ‘Beth… there’s a friend on the phone for you.’”

Beth was over the moon. Kathy and Bri­an left their daugh­ter in the kitchen, and hov­ered close­ly in the hall­way, cry­ing as they lis­tened to the con­ver­sa­tion.

“I told him things I hadn’t told my mom or dad. I told him about the surgery and how I thought I might die,” said Beth. “It was like talk­ing to an old friend.”

Beth spent over an hour on the phone with Mr. Rogers. But Beth didn’t just speak to Mr. Rogers. She also spoke with King Fri­day, Queen Sara and Lady Elaine, all the friends Mr. Rogers voiced on his show. Daniel Striped Tiger end­ed the con­ver­sa­tion, telling Beth that he loved her, and every­thing was going to be okay.

Before head­ing to the hos­pi­tal for the surgery, a giant box of cas­sette tapes and Mr. Rogers Neigh­bor­hood mem­o­ra­bil­ia arrived for Beth. The tapes calmed Beth as they made their way to the hos­pi­tal.

On Feb­ru­ary 4, 1987, Beth under­went a 12-hour pro­ce­dure to remove the left hemi­sphere of her brain. Ini­tial­ly after surgery, she was fine. But things took an unex­pect­ed turn, and she slipped into a coma.

As days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, con­cern grew – even with Beth’s newest and dear­est friend.

“Mr. Rogers would call the hos­pi­tal every day to check up on me,” said Beth. “When he found out I wasn’t improv­ing, he decid­ed to make a trip.”

Rogers’ only request was that the vis­it be between him and Beth. No press.

So, he flew from Pitts­burgh to Bal­ti­more. A friend picked him up from the air­port and drove him to John Hop­kins Hos­pi­tal where he sat beside Beth in her comatose state.

Beth’s fam­i­ly and nurs­es stood in the door­way watch­ing as Rogers removed his pup­pets from his case.

“He gave Beth her own pri­vate show,” said Kathy.

(Cour­tesy of the Ush­er fam­i­ly)

He also left all his pup­pets for Beth so she wouldn’t be alone when she awoke.

Short­ly after Mr. Rogers vis­it, Beth did wake, sur­round­ed by friends.

When Mr. Rogers called that day, Kathy told him the good news.

“He said, ‘Praise God.’”

Mr. Rogers and Beth’s friend­ship con­tin­ued through the years. They were pen pals, and Mr. Rogers always called Beth on her birth­day. When Beth’s grand­par­ents passed away, Mr. Rogers lis­tened to her mourn over the phone. Mr. Rogers even asked Beth to help write his com­mence­ment address for the Uni­ver­si­ty of Con­necti­cut.

“To Mr. Rogers, every­one was a friend,” said Beth. “He brought so much joy into my life.”

(Cour­tesy of the Ush­er fam­i­ly)

The world griev­ed the loss of Mr. Rogers when he passed away in 2003. The loss was espe­cial­ly painful to the Ush­ers. They lost a friend. Their fam­i­ly con­tin­ues to hon­or him and the lessons he taught them and the world.

“We def­i­nite­ly des­per­ate­ly need more peo­ple like him. So many times, we will say, ‘What would Fred do?’” said Kathy.

The answer is sim­ple: just be kind.

“Every­body is wor­thy and lov­able just the way they are,” said Beth.

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