New kidney, new hope, new life

Culver Academy boys and girls golf coach Fred Haase is able to smile after going through a kidney transplant six months ago. Tribune Photo/JIM RIDER

CULVER -- No news is good news in Fred Haase's world.

When the phone rings, there's always the chance it's doctors from Indianapolis calling to say there's a problem with the new kidney he's had for the last six months.

Tuesday afternoon, he got one of those calls. Suddenly, Wednesday's plan included a trip south.

"(The doctors) say they didn't like the numbers (that indicated the start of the rejection process) they saw from the tests I just had done,'' Haase said about the phone call that interrupted the interview. "Hopefully they can adjust the medications and get it taken care of.''

Uncertainty really bothers Haase.

A native of South Bend, graduate of Washington High (1967) and Wabash College (1971), the 55-year-old Haase has enjoyed the certainty of his job of 33 years as a Latin and advanced placement economics teacher at Culver Academy. Since 1980, he's been the golf coach at the academy -- handling both the girls and boys teams.

Uncertainty crept into Haase's life in 1996 when a congenital kidney disease was diagnosed. For eight years he lived with the dread that some day he would be doomed to dialysis or in need of a transplant.

While on a national transplant waiting list that numbered 50,000 and armed with a beeper (for a cadaver transplant) that was always silent, Haase's condition worsened last winter. With his kidney function at less than 10 percent of normal, dialysis was the only option left.

"Three days a week, in the worst part of the snow season, I drove to LaPorte for dialysis,'' the Culver resident said. "I'd leave after school at 3 and I wouldn't get home until 10.''

The life-saving procedure extended the time Haase had to find a suitable living donor, matching his Type B blood. Because it was a congenital condition, his family members were ruled out as possible donors. His wife, Nancy, was not compatible.

Fate took hold of the situation at this point. Steve Brown of Columbus, Ind., whose son Scott was the roommate of Fred's son David at the academy about six years ago, volunteered to be tested as a possible donor.

It was a match.

"I don't believe in (fate),'' said Steve, who was an Air Force pilot in southeast Asia during the Vietnam war. "But if you ask my wife (Linda), she'll say that this whole thing was meant to be. I went through a lot of hairy things (in the war). I'd say I used up my nine lives. I had to have made it through for a reason.''

"Steve's the hero in this whole thing,'' said Haase, who has become good friends with Steve. "He was losing something and I was gaining. Initially, he had a harder recovery than I did.''

The successful transplant happened in March. He missed his boys golf team's journey to a ninth-place finish in the state tournament, but was back on the course in six weeks trying to regain the form that made him a 2-handicap golfer before the illness took hold.

"The uncertainty of everything is what bothered me the most,'' Haase said. "So many things were out of my control. But when you look at other people waiting for transplants, for livers or pancreas, I was much better off needing a kidney. My faith never let me ask, 'why me?' I count my blessings and don't feel sorry for myself.''

"It's like I've become part of the family,'' said Steve, who's always able to make Fred smile. "They refer to me as their kidney cousin, once removed.''

He's joined Haase as a staunch advocate for the need for living donors. The astronomical numbers in need of organs can only be satisfied through sacrifice.

"For most people, just like me, you have to be right next to it before it gets your attention,'' Brown said. "I can't say I ever thought twice about it before I heard about Fred's situation. It's something I'd do again, though. I've seen what it can do.''

"This whole experience has had an impact on our family,'' Haase said. "We bought a condo in Florida; we took our family on some vacations. We've seized the moment. We're not putting things off until later.''

And answering the phone isn't as easy as it used to be.