After several years of making the pilgrimage to the annual largest Komen fundraiser here in the Midwest with our literature and meeting runners at the end of the race, and marching down Market street with our, Why Are Not Women being Told? banner, public awareness and national exposure has paid off.       

In year’s past, we would stand neck deep in a sea of pink, packed in like sardines at this largest fundraising event. This year , however,  it was quite noticeable that the numbers of attendees and participants in the race were down. Could it be the truth regarding the relationship between Planned Parenthood and Susan Komen?  Or the fact that women are not receiving mammograms at  Planned Parenthood abortion facilities, and that much of the money allotted from Susan Komen foundation is going towards abortions.. the biggest proven risk factor of breast cancer?

Maybe former donors and participants saw through the lies when Susan Komen rescinded on her promise to cut ties and financial funding to Planned Parenthood earlier this year. It’s a shame , because women are dying as the Komen foundation pours so much energy in racing to find a cure when they should be racing to find the cause, all causes.

www.Abortion BreastCancer.com

Breast cancer survivors, supporters come together "as one" for Komen race

Laurie Skrivan

ST. LOUIS • In the Middle Ages, the sound of church bells summoned people to experience the supernatural.

On Saturday morning, the ringing of Christ Church Cathedral’s bells downtown signaled the start of a race to fund research that will supersede nature.

About 51,000 people took off from the pink starting line on Olive Street , below the cathedral’s pealing bells, for the Susan G. Komen St. Louis Race for the Cure. The charity funds breast cancer research and care.

Yvonne Cross, 72, of Berkeley , was at her 11th Race for the Cure, supporting her daughter, a two-time breast cancer survivor.

“When you see the amount of people that are all going through the same thing, it really helps,” she said.

Her friend Bernice Davis, 59, also of Berkeley, said she had been cancer-free for 18 months. “It’s about coming together as one,” Davis said.

While there was a definite sense of unity in the multitudes, fewer people came together for the race this year. The number of registered participants, which organizers say could still rise, was down from 64,000 last year and nearly 72,000 — the record — in 2010.

In recent years, the St. Louis event has been the largest Komen race in the nation, and organizers said they believed it still was, but with half the year still to go, they were not sure St. Louis would retain that title. According to fundraising totals on Komen’s website, this year’s St. Louis race generated $2.4 million, though organizers say that number will grow. Last year the race brought in $3 million, and in 2010, $3.4 million.

In February, Komen announced that it was excluding Planned Parenthood from future grants for breast cancer screenings and education programs.

A nationwide furor fueled by social media such as Twitter and Facebook led Democrats and liberals to say the move was part of a broad campaign against Planned Parenthood for its position on abortion. Komen’s vice president of public policy resigned, and the charity ultimately decided to continue the Planned Parenthood grants.

The local Planned Parenthood provides breast exams to 7,000 women each year but has never received funding from the St. Louis Komen affiliate. Some race organizers believed that distance would protect the St. Louis race from lower participation rates seen in other parts of the country.

Dede Hoffmann, president of the board of directors for Komen’s St. Louis affiliate, said she didn’t know why participation numbers were down this year.

“We’re not making a judgment call on that,” she said. “Who knows what makes things tick?”

She said the board would not rule out making changes next year to try to increase participation to previous years’ levels.

“We always want to make things better, even when we’re at the top of our game,” Hoffmann said.

The 51,000 participants-in-pink and the thousands more who came to cheer them on (also mostly in pink) were more apt to be marveling at one another’s T-shirts than discussing political controversy. Among the messages: “Brook’s Brigade: Can’t Knocker Down.” “Guard the Melons.” “Fight Like a Girl for Sherry.” “G’ma Pam’s Rack Pack.”

Richard Harms, 37, of Roxana, dyed his hair pink for the race. He had come downtown with his wife and friend to support Anita Napier, a 65-year-old breast cancer survivor from Collinsville . .

“We’ve come down for three years to support our friend and anyone who’s gone through this,” Harms said. “You never know — cure one cancer, you may cure them all.”

Dogs sported pink as well as people. Every shape of dog wore a pink lei or pink bandana around its neck. Hundreds of runners wore pink tutus. A block east on Market Street , a pink firetruck idled near City Hall.

Nearby, through a massive pink balloon Arch, a woman sang Mariah Carey’s “Hero” on the Komen stage, as TV anchors broadcast the festivities from a raised platform in Poelker Park .

Sitting under the shade of a tree, Shirley Long, 74, of Granite City , said she had been coming to the race for the last seven years. She has been a survivor four times longer, beating breast cancer in 1984.

“Everyone here is either a survivor or someone who loves a survivor,” Long said. “It’s moving to be here with all these people. We’re all in the same boat.”

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