Ronnie Polaneczky: Kim Hill's legacy is a world of grateful families

FOUR DECADES ago, when Kim Hill was 5, doctors told her parents that she had just six months to live. In those days, unless a series of medical marvels unfolded in perfect sequence, Kim's diagnosis - acute lymphatic leukemia - was a death sentence.

So as heartbreaking as it is that Kim died March 5 at age 44 - too young by any standard - it's a gift that she made it to middle age at all.

More miraculous is that Kim's illness became the catalyst for the creation of the very first Ronald McDonald House, established here in Philadelphia for families of children needing pediatric treatment far from home.

Its "home-away-from-home" concept has forever altered our understanding of what families need to manage illness away from all that is familiar: a shoulder to cry on, a hot meal, people who understand the shock of an unexpected diagnosis or the joy of remission, a safe place to bed down without going broke.

Since that first haven was founded in West Philly in 1974, 301 more Ronald McDonald houses have been established in 30 countries.

And those houses inspired the creation of Fisher Houses, which provide similar services to families of soldiers receiving care at U.S. military hospitals. And the creation of similar facilities - like the Gift of Life Family House here in Philly - for those dealing with organ transplant.

This astounding legacy of hospitality gives solace to Kim's family in San Juan Capistrano, Calif. That's where her funeral service will be held today - at almost the exact same time that a preplanned telethon will get under way here in Philly to help benefit the very Ronald McDonald House that Kim's odyssey inspired.

While some might call the timing a coincidence, Kim's father, former Eagles tight end Fred Hill, thinks it is the final act of divine providence in a life that was guided by a force as big as his daughter's spirit.

"Kim's life was filled with good timing," Fred told me in a phone call over the weekend while his wife, Fran, hovered nearby.

"When it looked like she wouldn't pull through, she did. When she had a relapse, she rebounded. We are grateful we had her for so long.

"And when you look at what transpired because of her, you have to figure God wanted her to stick around for a reason."

The story of Ronald McDonald House is just so Philly.

Kim was diagnosed in 1969, a few years after Fred Hill started playing for the Eagles. Fred and Fran spent the better part of three years trekking from their home in South Jersey to St. Christopher's Hospital for Children in North Philly, where Kim received treatment.

During that time, Fred and a friend organized a leukemia fundraiser, and all of his teammates showed up. They loved Kim, having met her when Fran brought her to practice, and they were devastated by her prognosis.

So was team-owner Leonard Tose, who sponsored future fundraisers and eventually ordered his general manager, Jim Murray, to ask Kim's doctor what the Eagles could do to make life easier for patients and families.

The doctor referred Murray to oncologist Audrey Evans, who said out-of-town families needed an inexpensive place - "like a coed Y," she once told me in an interview - to stay while their children were being treated.

"You'd have mother and father sleeping in their cars, eating out of vending machines, trying to keep their heads above water at the most difficult time of their lives," said Murray, a rowhouse-Philly guy whose childhood neighborhood rallied around families when calamity struck.

He told Evans that she needed not an anonymous Y, but an intimate house where families could laugh and cry together.

To pay for the building, Murray asked local McDonald's franchise owners if they'd donate to the cause a percentage of sales of their "shamrock shakes." The owners said they'd donate all the proceeds if the house would be named after Ronald McDonald.

"I said, 'For all that money, you can call it the Hamburger House!' " recalled Murray.

And the rest - thanks to countless benefactors who have stepped forward ever since - is history.

As Kim Hill is laid to rest today, I'd like to offer thanks for all the amazing children whose actions transcend the illnesses that take them too soon.

Like Alex Scott, whose little Lemonade Stand now raises millions for cancer research.

And Ryan White, the AIDS patient who changed the way America sees those with HIV.

And all the other brave kids who are not as well-known but whose names we see printed on posters and T-shirts during walks and runs to raise funds for families still fighting for their children's lives.

They teach us, during the toughest of circumstances, that you're never too young to change the world.

To participate in today's "Change the Luck of a Child" phone bank benefiting local Ronald McDonald House Charities, call 1-877-KYW-3275 between 3 p.m. and 8 p.m. The telethon will air live during commercial breaks.

E-mail polaner@phillynews.com or call 215-854-2217. For recent columns:

www.philly.com/Ronnie. Read Ronnie's blog at www.philly.com/RonnieBlog.