Dawn's Gift - AIDS Education

Dawn's Triumph (by Dawn's brother, Chad Schwitters)

Dawn Beckhols, a vibrant person, died young. What a tragedy.

I'll always be upset that my sister was taken from us so soon. But after some consideration, I realize that there are a couple of problems with just calling the whole thing a tragedy.

The first problem is that Dawn wouldn't have liked it. She couldn't stand anything that smelled like pity. If she heard me talking about tragedy, she'd reach out and "KUH!" smack me upside the head. I never liked it when she did that.

The second problem is more complex. It largely boils down to a case of quality versus quantity, but I only fully understood it after going through her papers. Allow me to explain:

Through high school, college, and her years as a flight attendant, Dawn was an extremely personable, vivacious party girl who was well-liked by old friends and new acquaintances alike. She enjoyed herself immensely - going to parties, traveling around the world, enjoying time with friends, buying clothes.

In retrospect, I'm awfully glad that she had these years. But I think Dawn sensed that there was something missing from her life. This struck her hardest after the Pan Am Flight 103 disaster. Dawn had flown that route a lot, and knew all the members of the lost flight crew.

Despite all the fun she was having, she started changing her life. She quit the job that allowed her to see the world, finished college, and took an office job. She became engaged. I suspect these changes were partly to fill the void she felt; she had an enjoyable life, but she wanted a meaningful one as well.

Discovering her HIV status during this was a major blow. Many of the paths she'd been considering - career, family and the like - were closed to her now. She faced an early death. What meaningful thing could she possibly do?

It took a little time, but everybody who knew Dawn knows that she did indeed find something to do. Not just something to fill the time; and not just something that was good for her and for others. She found something that was perfect. She decided to speak about AIDS.

She spoke to classrooms, congregations, athletes, politicians, organizations and executives. She gave interviews for newspapers, magazines and television. She was featured in videos. She spoke clearly and effectively about a lot of things - AIDS statistics, AIDS avoidance, FDA policy, corporate policy, outreach efforts - but the thing that had the most impact wasn't really presentation of fact, or analysis. It was neither teaching nor preaching. It was simply telling her story.

Her story had a major impact. She asked me to handle her paperwork after her death; while doing so, I came across a few boxes labeled "reaction mail". These were speaker evaluation forms and unsolicited letters that came from people that she did not know, but that had heard her tell her story in person or on a video. These letters are amazing. People sent their addresses, pictures, poems, checks, and prayers. They praised Dawn for her attitude, courage, humor and insight. She had touched them, and changed their lives. They thanked her for this - for convincing them to protect themselves, to get tested, to talk to their loved ones, to reconsider their life priorities, and abandon their prejudices. They ordered extra videos to share with coworkers, parishioners and their children. There are hundreds of these letters.

Reading these letters has given me a new perspective. I now understand the purpose my sister found in life; how fulfilling it was to her, and how much of a difference she really made in this world. She said in her talks that she was happy with her life; I don't think I believed her before, but I do now.

Why was her story so effective? Mainly because she was so completely unlike her brother. She was female, attractive, personable, eloquent, and HIV+. Her honesty touched people. They weren't being bombarded with familiar facts about AIDS, being told how they should react to AIDS, or idly considering how AIDS affects remote people. They were forced to think, hard, about a major problem that suddenly seemed like it was theirs when Dawn was speaking to them.

And her attitude impressed them. "God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things which should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other." I never heard Dawn mention this quote, but she lived it completely. She didn't blame anybody, she didn't complain, she didn't feel sorry for herself - she calmly accepted things that could not be altered, and worked tirelessly to improve things that could. Such grace, courage and wisdom in the face of adversity forced her listeners to see, and want to change, their own shortcomings.

The best part is that it's not over. Her story is still being told. Dawn's videos are still out there - still being shown, still affecting people's lives.