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The following story appeared in the
September 1, 1993, edition of the New York Times. Accompanying the text were a
photograph of Craig Shergold and a photograph showing "some of the 300,000 cards sent
weekly to Craig Shergold ... at the Childrens Wish Foundation International in
Atlanta."
A LESSON IN BE CAREFUL WHAT
YOU WISH
By Charisse Jones
There once was a boy named Craig,
who in the midst of his fight against cancer asked strangers to grant a simple request:
Send get-well cards, lots of them, enough to lift a sick childs spirits and break a
world record.
Craig Shergold got his wish.
Ordinary people and heads of state alike responded to the 7-year-old British boys
plea, sending more than 16 million greeting cards in a years time and breaking the
standing record within months. Now, 4 years later, Craig Shergold has his record and his
health. Doctors removed most of a cancerous brain tumor in 1991 and say the disease has
not returned.
But Craigs request lives on
through a flurry of chain letters making the rounds of offices around the country. And as
thousands of cards continue to pour in, those who first publicized the boys appeal
have replaced the words "thank you" with two others. Enough already.
No Way to Stop It
"Weve got a
10,000-square-foot warehouse that is stacked to the ceiling with mail that still
hasnt been opened," said Arthur Stein, president of the Atlanta-based
Childrens Wish Foundation International, which began the initial card campaign in
1989. "Theres no way to stop it. Everyone keeps saying quit, and people ignore
the pleas."
In a latter-day version of the
childrens game called telephone, Craigs plight continues to be resurrected in
letters delivered via mail carrier and fax machine, with facts so different from the
original story, the tale is at times almost unrecognizable.
The letters now ask for business
cards instead of get-well cards. Depending on which letter you get, Craigs last name
may be Schergold, or Sherfold. And the letters either switch the names of two foundations
that grant wishes to seriously ill children, or name a foundation that does not exist at
all.
To complicate matters further, many
of the cards are mailed to an Atlanta address that does not exist and are eventually
re-routed to the Childrens Wish Foundation headquarters. Some of the envelopes
simply say "Wish Foundation," with no address or zip code. And Mr. Stein said
his staff has put on display one envelope that cryptically read "To The Boy Who Is
Sick In The Hospital, In Arizona, Or Colorado . . . "
One thing remains the same: While
the drive has been going on for years, the boy in the appeal has not aged--he is still 7
and still terminally ill.
The Childrens Wish Foundation
uses a donated warehouse and staff of 40 volunteers to handle the nearly 300,000 cards
sent in every week, Mr. Stein said. The Phoenix-based Make-A-Wish Foundation of America,
which never dealt with the Shergold boy or his request, has established a telephone line
to tell the public the current card appeal is not legitimate, nor are they involved.
And there has been a concerted
effort to spread the word that cards -- business or otherwise -- are no longer wanted.
Newspaper writers from Dallas to Manhattan have written articles and columns stating that
the boy broke the record long ago. His mother has appealed through the BBC and other media
outlets that no more cards be sent. Even Ann Landers, in a column printed last year,
begged the public to stop.
In fact, the Guinness Book of
World Records has retired the category for the most get-well cards, leaving
Craigs 1992 record of 33 million cards unchallenged.
But no amount of publicity has been
strong enough to stem the torrent of faxes and phone calls. "I would suspect we have
surpassed 100 million" cards, Mr. Stein said, adding that the foundation stopped
counting once the number topped 60 million. At the request of the Shergold family, he
said, the cards are being recycled.
At the Make-A-Wish Foundation, the
number of calls to a special phone line has recently risen from about 800 a month to more
than 1,400, indicating the chain-letter appeal has intensified, said Diana Whittle, a
spokeswoman.
"I cant think of any
other appeals that have generated so many phone calls," Ms. Whittle said, adding that
she has a three-inch file stuffed with chain letters in her office. "The people who
are calling are the ones who are obviously suspicious. Theyre saying, I think
I heard about this two years ago, and I just want to make sure this is still not
true. "
Charity and Superstition
Hazel Hammond was one who
didnt check. Two weeks ago, the picture editor at American Expresss Travel
& Leisure Magazine in Manhattan received a letter asking her to help fulfill the
dying wish of a sick boy. "It was an innocuous request," said Ms. Hammond, who
immediately sent off her business card. "I didnt have to give blood or
anything."
It was a combination of charity and
superstition that encouraged Ms. Hammond to heed the instructions in the letter and not
invite bad luck by breaking the chain. So she dutifully printed 10 copies, as the letter
requested, and forwarded them to friends throughout New York City.
"I thought Id do it and
get it over with," Ms. Hammond said. After all, "I believe in astrology,
too."
One of her acquaintances had already
received the letter from someone else. "It seems like something you want to do for
someone, but you dont want to waste your time," said Pam Older, vice president
and director of marketing for The New Yorker, who checked the story before
redistributing the letter. "We called the Make-A-Wish Foundation and found out the
boys appeal had already been fulfilled. So I stopped the chain right there. Then I
got Hazels letter."
Just Exploded From
There
The Governors Office of
Consumer Affairs in Georgia, following several inquiries from the media, investigated to
make sure that the chain letter was not a scheme to assemble a mailing list or solicit
money and found no wrongdoing on the part of the Childrens Wish Foundation, said a
spokeswoman for the office, Carolyn Mills.
Most feel the chain-letter campaign
is simply a good-natured effort gone awry.
"I think its
amusing," Ms. Hammond said. "Im sure the origin of it was quite honest and
sincere."
In 1989, Craig, the son of a
waitress and truck driver living in Carshalton, England, was suffering from a brain tumor
and not expected to survive. The British media began to publicize the boys desire to
break the world record for receiving the most get-well cards, and eventually, Mr. Stein
said, the Childrens Wish organization was enlisted in the effort.
The day after the foundation was
asked to assist in the appeal, a board member asked if he could fax the request to his
companys offices around the nation, Mr. Stein said.
"It just exploded from
there," he said. "It seemed his employees got so enthused they sent it to all
their suppliers and customers. And fax-o-mania took hold."
Boys Tumor Removed
Because of the card campaign, John
W. Kluge, the billionaire who is the chairman of the Metromedia Company, learned of
Craigs illness and paid for him to see a neurosurgeon at the University of Virginia
Health Sciences Center. In March 1991, more than 90 percent of Craigs brain tumor
was removed, and he is believed to be cured, said a hospital spokesman, Tom Doran.
The boy still lives in England with
his parents, said Mr. Stein, who stays in touch with the family. T-shirts, caps and other
gifts sent to Craig are distributed to other sick children at the request of Craigs
mother, Marion. And the approximately $6,000 sent to the foundation in Craigs name
is being set aside to offset any expenses incurred in trips to the United States for
follow-up treatment.
In the meantime, Ms. Hammond ponders
her good deed and admits there is one thing she has left undone -- getting back to those
friends she made the latest links in the chain.
"Thats what Im
feeling guilty about," Ms. Hammond said. "I need to call them and say dont
bother."
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