God could not be everywhere and therefore he made mothers.
- Jewish proverb

And on the third day, he decreed that moms would be so special that nothing would take their place in all the universe. And, later on, God did something else. He made Betty Schildroth extra special, knowing she'd surely have her hands full with husband Rudy and sons Chris and Keith and daughter Mary. But she didn't let God down. She nourished her children, rooted them in values and now they honor her in ways she would have never thought possible. They've become the caretakers of her memory with a golf tournament.

Betty cared little about golf. She did care about the joy she could bring to others. She did this in her job at the Missouri Division of Employment Security. Who knows how many down-and-out people for whom she found jobs?

For one, there was the middle-aged woman who is disabled. Betty placed her in a job, helped her buy a home and taught her how to pay her utility bills.

"My mom was big on helping people," Keith Schildroth said. "She cared."

To her family and friends, Betty was the embodiment of everything that's good. What better way to give lasting significance to her life - even before the cancer maliciously had its way - than by doing something that would lend a helping hand to others?

First donation: $500

Betty's boys liked the idea of a benefit golf event. The first one was in 1991 in Lebanon, Mo., where the Schildroth kids - Keith, Chris and Mary - once spent a memorable vacation at Bennett Spring State Park with their parents.

Forty-four golfers drove to Lebanon for the Saturday tournament. They included friends from the neighborhood in Dellwood and Good Shepherd parish, where Keith and Chris Schildroth grew up, and co-workers, even people whose jobs Betty had found for them. The event raised $500. Afterward, everybody ate hot dogs, and prizes were given out in the rain.

Days later, with $500 check in hand, Keith Schildroth walked unannounced into the development office at St. John's Mercy Medical Center in Creve Coeur and asked to speak to someone in charge. Her name was Marlene Shelton.

Schildroth said, "Listen, I've got this check. I want it to go to in-home hospice care. It's the only thing I ask."

Betty was getting cancer treatments at St. John's. The Schildroths reasoned that cancer patients with financial needs would be best served by the money. Betty and Rudy had insurance. The boys had heard stories of how cancer patients without insurance could be devastated by weighty financial burdens.

By 1992, there had been a groundswell of interest in the tournament. Brothers Tony and Mike Lombardo of the restaurant family got involved. They were pals with Betty's boys in Dellwood. Bob Mayhall, former sports announcer at KMOX radio, came aboard. Keith Schildroth met another restaurateur, Charlie Gitto. Schildroth said, "He could make things happen."

The tournament sold out. Golfers arrived in Lebanon on Friday, played a practice round and then repaired to the hotel for card games. Prizes were better. Schildroth took a check for $1,500 to Shelton.

"Such a sweet lady"

Betty's cancer was discovered in the late 1970s. Over the long course of the illness, the hopes of Rudy and the kids were cruely crushed, then lifted. Crushed again. Lifted again. But the family stood shoulder to shoulder. Betty spent her last year at the house in Dellwood, which was the family home for 33 years, receiving care from the St. John's hospice group.

Betty fought hard. Keith Schildroth said, "The last two weeks of her life, she survived on the strength of her heart alone. Mom was tough. She didn't want to go. The nurses were great. They were concerned about the rest of us, too. They could see what it was doing to us. It took a toll."

Betty died April 23, 1993. She was 60.

"I remember her smile ... that smile ... such a sweet lady," said George Csolak, whose parents were longtime friends of Betty and Rudy.

Betty's death put the future of the tournament in jeopardy. On the day after the funeral, Keith Schildroth was home alone, his grief overwhelming.

"I was probably at the lowest point of my life," he said.

The doorbell rang. It was UPS with an array of items for the tournament from Charlie Hodges at Anheuser-Busch.

"I broke down," Schildroth said. "I signed the ticket in tears."

In the face of such a powerful message, how could a tournament not be held in 1993? It sold out. The event stayed in Lebanon until last year, when it moved to The Rail in Springfield, Ill., a regular stop on the Ladies Professional Golf Association tour.

In the Schildroth tournament's 10 years, it has raised $70,000, all going to St. John's Mercy Hospice, now known as United Health Hospice.

10th consecutive sellout

When 152 golfers gather at The Rail on July 14 for the Friends of Betty Schildroth tournament, it will mark the 10th consecutive sellout. The hot dogs of 1991 have morphed into a fancy steak dinner and awards ceremony Saturday night.

The tournament has taken on a life of its own. It has a waiting list of players, a board of directors, oral and silent auctions and Web site (www.bettysboys.com). The entry fee is $500 for each foursome.

Denny Walters, impresario at Bogey Hills Country Club in St. Charles, donates rounds of golf at five different courses to the cause. Norwood Hills Country Club donates one foursome. The Blues and Rams participate in prizes.

The event has prospered because of the many donors like Gitto, who make things happen. More angels:

Pasta House Co.'s Kim Tucci; soccer's Bill McDermott; Paul Pointer, whose family owns the Lemp Mansion Restaurant & Inn; Todd Hejna, who coordinates the auctions; Gus Torregrossa, who gives apparel; Mike Ebert, who gives golf balls; Mike Kiely, who sells hole sponsorships; Rich Sauget, who donates beer; Jim Thiel, who coordinates entertainment; and brothers Pete and Anthony Tocco, who provide food.

The fun always begins on the day before the tournament. At Lebanon, it was poker. This year at The Rail, there will be a putting contest, a pig roast and gambling.

Keith Schildroth, 41, and Chris Schildroth, 40, deliver a touching tribute to their mom every year, speaking from the heart. Rudy Schildroth, 70, is on hand, too, the memories flooding him.

"It's everything Keith has to get through it," said Csolak, 44. "It's emotional for everyone there. You'd think as you get older you'd get stronger, but you get more sentimental. It's like Betty is there with us every year."

New entrants - in particular those who never knew Betty - learn what her unsinkable spirit meant by the time the weekend is done.

"It's nice, isn't it, how people have come together to keep this thing going," Keith Schildroth said.

In the fullness of time, hundreds of terminally ill cancer victims and their families will be the beneficiaries of this love story. The ripples will grow. And grow. And, in the end, this may well be the greatest measure of Betty Schildroth's influence.

By Dave Dorr\Of The St. Charles County Post  


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Betty's Boys

* What: Friends of Betty Schildroth golf tournament.
* When: July 12, 2008 at the Golf Club of Florissant
* Benefactor: St. John's Mercy Hospice, now known as United Health Hospice
* Web site: http://www.bettysboys.com