Charlie Bear is still raising cash
Sep 29 2009 by Avril Deane
The Journal is backing the Charlie Bear for Cancer Care charity, which has raised millions for those suffering the condition. Former reporter Avril Deane has played a pivotal role in the charity and she takes a fond look back at her time with the charity
Daisy was a battler, in much the same mould as our beloved and lamented Sir Bobby Robson. The whole body scanner on the shopping list was a miracle worker, allowing specialists the opportunity to see cancer cells in minute, life-saving detail.
And the fund with its teddy bear figurehead gave us our collective voice, a permission to fight back, to lean on others for support, to act selflessly and stretch the boundaries of achievement while at the same time providing the perfect vehicle to honour those whose fight had been lost.
When The Journal adopted the appeal and the money started flooding in, every day became an event. Opening the post was thrilling, as cheques and coins tumbled out of carefully written envelopes. There were sad and grateful tributes, tales of courage and faith, details of fundraising genius or merely well-supported bring-and-buy sales. Money came from all ages, all denominations, in all denominations. And there were anonymous donations too, from those who wanted no receipt or acknowledgment of their generosity.
Every Friday I would take a bag of money from The Journal offices to the White House near the General Hospital and hover on my side of the Treasurer’s grille to hear the new total. I like to think they enjoyed counting the money as much as I did taking it to them.
Then there were the trips with or without Daisy to receive money on Charlie Bear’s behalf.
It was like being in a giant crossword puzzle, travelling four up, six down and 27 across to make an appearance at a grand ‘do’ somewhere or other, to say thank you in person (though it was nearly always best if she didn’t drive!).
If Daisy was like the queen, then I felt like a princess, riding on her coat tails and basking in her unsolicited but brightly reflected glory, then going back to the office to write about it so that you, dear readers, could see exactly what we’d been up to.
And as we’re friends, I’ll just share one favourite story with you. One summer evening, when Daisy was just too ill and too weak to come out, I went to a packed social club in Newcastle to a cheque presentation for Charlie Bear.
The man in charge took me onto the stage and stopped the game of bingo by blowing into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced in his best and poshest Geordie accent. “I’m sorry to interrupt your housey-housey but I have a very pleasant duty to perform.
“As ye aal know, Daisy Clark is a very sick woman and cannot be here the neet (sic). Howeva, we have here a charming young lady who has come to jeopardise for her…”
I guess you could say I have been jeopardising for Daisy Clark and Charlie Bear ever since. And long may I be blessed to do so.
