Walking into The Venetian is an experience in itself. The ballroom’s high ceilings, breathtaking chandeliers and high-class ambiance is befitting of royalty. And that’s exactly what the Garfield, New Jersey, venue saw March 15 when it hosted the final Jillian Fund Gala—the kings and queens of the office technology industry.
At every turn during the “Save the Last Dance for Me” event stood the biggest names in our dealer community. I bumped into Bob Madaio of Sharp, BTA Executive Director Brent Hoskins, retiring BTA counsel Bob Goldberg, GreatAmerica’s Jennie Fisher and the omnipresent Mike Stramaglio. Larry Weiss, president of Atlantic Tomorrow’s Office, set a new world’s record for handshakes in his role as dealer maverick and Jillian Fund benefactor. Raj Thadani of Mars International graciously hosted me at his table. At one point, I spotted IA honcho Andy Slawetsky and Marco’s Trevor Akervik engrossed in conversation. In all, there were more than 500 people in attendance.
As you probably read previously, The Jillian Fund—as a revenue generator—will now fall under the auspices of Hackensack Meridian Health Foundation, which will continue efforts to assist juvenile patients being cared for at Hackensack Meridian Children’s Health at Joseph M. Sanzari Children’s Hospital. After all, families should not have to choose between being bedside with their seriously stricken children and dealing with household finances. What’s more, the $750,000 pledge made by TJF will go toward securing a social worker to assist patients in their post-care.
Many of the folks I chatted with expressed sadness in seeing the Jillian Fund Gala come to an end. They loved how it unified the industry, and for one night, manufacturers and dealers lay down their swords and shields to support the cause in the name of Jillian Gorman, daughter of Ricoh’s George Gorman, who was stricken with acute myeloid leukemia and passed away in 2013.
It would be heartening to see another industry-generated organization take the torch and create another cause in the same vein, supporting health-challenged children and their families, perhaps on a broader scale. Certainly, it’s easy for me to sit here and suggest industry members donate their time and resources to a new cause. The planning and coordination level needed to pull off an event such as this is immense. Instead, I offer deep appreciation to those members of TJF’s board, who poured their hearts and souls into relieving some of the financial burden that accompanies life-altering health afflictions.
The buffet-style dinner was unprecedented in variety, as was the vast selection of desserts. Emcee, Chairman (and George’s longtime friend) Bill McLaughlin spoke of the 300-plus families that benefited from The Jillian Fund. He got choked up in introducing Stephanie Cisne, a Fund beneficiary (and TJF board member) whose ongoing health battle is an inspiration to all who learn her story.
The Patriots Pack, whose cross-country motorcycle rides have generated proceeds for TJF, announced it was pivoting its efforts to back a BTA scholarship supporting the children of current military members as well as veterans. The rides, much like the Gala, bring many caring and like-minded industry friends together.
Sad as we may have been last week to watch the final Gala become a cherished memory, it reminded us of endings and new beginnings. As a father of three, I’ve long viewed George Gorman through that lens, and have been humbled by the strength he’s shown in relating his story of loss and hope. During his speech, he described how his son Zachary not only volunteered to provide his stem cells in a bone marrow transplant, but insisted on being in the hospital bed next to Jillian when she recovered. They were, George gently related, each other’s best friend. That the sorrow of her eventual passing was too deep to dissuade Zachary from taking his own life is gut-wrenching. It is, as songwriter Sarah McLachlan penned in the song “Angel,” a “glorious sadness” that is impossible to reconcile.
George is a man of deep faith, which I’m sure carried him through some excruciatingly difficult times. During her fight, Jillian endured three bone marrow transplants and a kidney transplant, and one can only envision the optimism that preceded each, and the feelings of despair when the interventions did not produce the desired outcome. Or the feeling of dread when subsequent relapses brought new challenges.
While death offers peace to the person suffering, it creates an unfillable void for loved ones. “I was told once, that to manage overwhelming grief, that you have to ground yourself in something bigger than you,” he told the crowd. “The Jillian Fund has filled that purpose for me, by grounding me in something much bigger than me, before my challenges.”
That includes George’s involvement with the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. “I know that Zachary and Jillian would want me to fully live my life again,” he added. Through his work with the causes, he believes he has “finally touched normality” once again.
As a dad, I wanted closure for George. Strange though it may sound, I needed to know that he is OK. His friends are heartened that there is a second act for him. George happily reported that he and wife Marcia Awobuluyi are celebrating their third wedding anniversary this year.
“I wake up every day with gratitude, appreciation and the desire to enjoy life,” he told the crowd.
The melding of the organization with Hackensack Meridian Health Foundation allows George to keep his promise to Jillian in a more expansive way. Her legacy continues, and more families will experience a level of relief in their darkest hours—all born from the compassion, kindness and empathy she showed for those experiencing plights similar to her own, a selfless love shared by her dad.
Perhaps the evening wasn’t so much about endings and new beginnings as it was about continuations. Moving forward not only sustains her memory, but also the loving gesture of charity and support. And that is worth celebrating.
