Skip Kuker and Nancy Rubino were, in modern parlance, influencers in our community. One was a champion of jobs, working tirelessly to woo fickle corporate executives. The other was a champion of a different sort, a tireless advocate for unwanted animals.
In the space of five days this month, we lost both of these community champions to cancer. The disease laid siege to one of them for five grueling years. It claimed the other one with seemingly astonishing speed.
Their deaths remind us that even after nearly half a century and billions spent on research, cures remain elusive for the broad spectrum of diseases cumulatively known as cancer. Breakthrough drugs are on the horizon, but they will be expensive. Innovative procedures are making treatment less brutal, but they aren’t perfect. And our understanding of cancer’s metabolism is growing, but we can’t fully explain how a person who never smoked gets throat cancer or how a person so dedicated to helping vulnerable creatures can be struck down so indiscriminately.
And so, we stare into two separate voids. Craters, really, left by the impact of two people who dedicated their lives to helping their communities.
Do you know that phenomenon in which we share details of our own experience with those who are grieving or suffering? Sociologists call it “conversational narcissism,” and I wonder how often Skip listened patiently to other people’s stories about their own experiences with cancer, whether it was themselves or a close friend or family member. In that way, his battle belonged to all of us, because his unfailing optimism — right up to the last days of his life — buoyed us. He put on a suit every day and helped us through those awkward small-talk moments with a wisecrack or a remark about what a great day it was. Because, of course, every day for him was a gift.
There he was, less than two months before his death, talking to the Leadership Hancock County class about his job as director of the Hancock Economic Development Council. He regaled the group with tales about clandestine meetings and complicated negotiations with site selectors that sounded like something out of a CIA debrief. His voice was wan and he surely was in discomfort, but the class members were rapt. They were talking last week about his presentation.
Nancy, of course, buoyed us in a different way. As the founder of Partners for Animal Welfare Society, she led a movement here on behalf of unwanted animals. A common thread ran through the online reaction to our story about her death (“Animal welfare expert dies at 68,” Page A1, weekend edition, Jan. 12-14):
“I wish I could share a photo of our Flash… He is a Pomeranian and pug mix,” wrote Cindy Brooks. “He was saved from being euthanized… by PAWS. Because of (Rubino), we have our Flash.”
“I adopted my kitty Jack from PAWS last year,” said Beth Worley-Engle. “I had the pleasure of meeting Nancy then. She was a sweet lady…”
“My furry friend curled up in my lap was introduced to me by Nancy. RIP,” wrote Judith Shepherd.
Nancy probably did more for the spay/neuter movement in Hancock County than anyone else. At one time, she also gave hundreds of presentations a year in schools, introducing children to the wonder and beauty of animals. And, for course, she helped rescue untold thousands of unwanted pets, including our pretty snowshoe Siamese, Adeline.
Cancer cares about none of that. This year, according to the American Cancer Society, more than 1.76 million new cases will be diagnosed in the United States. More than 200 nonprofit organizations will spend billions on outreach, education and support. The government will spend $5 billion or so on cancer, most of it on research. And still, more than 606,000 people will die.
All this shows we still have a long way to go in the fight against cancer. There will be many more voids. More Skips and more Nancys. But here, at least, people will step up and continue their work in the community, drawing inspiration from the memory of two special people who left the world a little better than they found it.
David Hill welcomes comments on this or any other story in the Daily Reporter. You can write to him at [email protected].
