Doesn’t everyone have a friend they want to spend more time with? That’s how I feel about Colleen. So when she asked if I would participate in a walk for Alzheimer’s and go to a barbecue afterward, I immediately agreed. And it wasn’t just for the food, or even the chance to be with Colleen. Alzheimer’s disease, for some inexplicable reason, is one of the few ailments I haven’t worried about getting.

I figured the walk would be like every other one I’d been to, but instead, it started inside Scottrade Center with remarks from the Alzheimer’s Association and sponsoring organizations. I’m not complaining. I am always willing to listen to people’s comments because a lifetime ago, people had to listen to mine; it’s payback. Anyhow, as we were making our way to our seats, I noticed some people had these large plastic spinning flowers in varying colors.

It was during the comments that I learned what the flowers meant: each represented the different impact of Alzheimer’s. One color was for a caretaker, one for a person with the disease and one for a family who had lost a loved one to the disease. I was happy to be flower-free. We walked, we ate, I ran into some old work colleagues, and that should have been the end of the story. But it wasn’t. You see, the walk was co-sponsored by Edward Jones, the investment firm from which I retired. That may surprise you, as I’ve always been a little vague about my past career. Mostly because I don’t want the crazy things I say held against an innocent company.

I was in the marketing division, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why they decided to become the national sponsor for a disease that, how can I say this tactfully, doesn’t have a happy ending. I sat down with John Beuerlein and Joan Fernandez, partners at the firm, and asked them. Why would Jones spend millions of dollars increasing awareness and funding research (at Washington University) to find a cure? They said it was driven by the desire to make a difference. To pick a cause that is often overlooked and where the firm’s contribution would be meaningful. No other motive, it
was just the right thing to do. And then John reminded me of Ted Jones, the founder’s son, who spent much of his life building the Katy Trail, the hiking and biking trail along the Missouri River. He just wanted to do something for conservation and the people of Missouri—no strings attached. Huh.

I must admit if I were still at Jones, I would have been one of the naysayers, thinking the sponsorship was a bad idea. I can actually picture myself in a
conference room, arguing that we should at least pick a ‘happy’ cause to support. Yes, I was ‘that’ person. Fortunately, John and Joan and the current Edward Jones employees looked beyond what was happy to what was necessary. So you see, there is a happy ending in there somewhere.

Contact Patty at phannum@townandstyle.com.