One special night
Published 9:00 pm Wednesday, May 18, 2005
MARYSVILLE – Kristi Korzan never imagined her daughter would wear a prom dress.
Julie Busch / The Herald From her wheelchair, Jesica Hill, 17, dances with Zach Strand during a prom for special-education students Saturday night at Marysville-Pilchuck High School.
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A year ago, doctors said Korzan might lose Jesica Hill, 17, who was born with cerebral palsy. Jesica’s weight had slipped to 39 pounds, and she drifted between life and death.
Then she met Zach Strand, 18, in the special education program at Marysville-Pilchuck High School. Love sparked.
Every day, Zach comes to her classroom for lunch. Jesica takes fluid food through a tube in her stomach.
Every day, Zach calls Jesica at home between 3 and 5 p.m., even though she can’t talk.
Zach does the talking. Jesica giggles in response.
“It makes her whole day,” Korzan said.
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Photo Gallery
Zach Strand, 18, and Jesica Hill, 17, dance the night away at the firs… [ The girl’s room is full of the boy’s photos, and he keeps her photo in his wallet.
Zach gave Jesica a reason to live, Korzan said. Jesica, who is 4 feet, 5 inches tall, has boosted her weight to 65 pounds.
On Saturday night, Jesica wore a lilac colored dress and sat in her wheelchair before Zach in the high school’s cafeteria at the first prom for about 50 special needs students. It was the night that Jesica’s eyes danced as Zach rhythmically turned her around and pushed her back and forth in her wheelchair.
It was a night of generosity, as many people in the community donated everything from tuxedoes to dinner settings.
It was a night of young love the students will remember forever.
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A prom was on a must-do list for Nick Jenkins, an 18-year-old senior at the high school, where older brothers Tim and Josh had taken dates to proms and graduated.
Nick, born with Down syndrome, bugged his mother, Loren Jenkins, about it.
As an experiment, Jenkins, 50, took Nick and a friend to a homecoming dance in October. Loud music and hundreds of students overwhelmed him, his mother said.
So she began thinking of creating a separate prom for Nick and other students with disabilities. She shared her idea with others, and offers of help poured in.
A tuxedo shop offered to donate 20 rentals, a hairdresser decided to do the girls’ hair for free, restaurants agreed to give food, a photographer said he would do photos at no charge, and the list of donors kept growing.
“They’ve been giving freely,” Jenkins said after picking up donated green beans and baked potatoes at a restaurant.
On Saturday night, Jenkins had been up since 5 a.m., running around to prepare for the prom with other volunteers.
“Love? I just love my kids,” she said of what drove her to do the work. “I just know how other parents feel. … It’s tough every day. They stand and watch their kids struggle.”
Those students deserve the same experiences as other students, Jenkins said. “Let’s do something fun for them.”
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At 6 p.m., daylight still lingered outside the cafeteria.
Escorted by mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers, students – boys in tuxedoes with bow ties and shiny black shoes and girls in colorful dresses – walked the red carpet into the building. Their disabilities ranged from autism to attention deficit disorder to unknown complications.
They spread out through the dimmed room, some running and others maneuvering in wheelchairs.
Chatter and laughter filled the air. Flashes from cameras lit up the room.
“Students, would you please take your seats?” Jenkins told the crowd.
Nick, wearing a black tuxedo and purple bow tie, sat at a table with his name card on it. A server delivered a glass of Mountain Dew, rolls, Caesar salad and a main dish of chicken, green beans and baked potato.
As Nick enjoyed his dinner, sophomore Keito Swan and other students in the school’s leadership program kept busy in the kitchen.
“Special-needs kids should have the full opportunities just like regular kids,” said Keito, 15, whose younger brother has autism.
After dinner, photographer Brady Costelow of Auburn captured their happy memories for free. “It’s nice to find kids once that really deserve help,” he said.
Nick and friend Ashley Rohde, 16, posed in front of a lit-up background of the Eiffel Tower.
“What a cute couple,” said Nick’s father, Darrell Jenkins.
“Dad, be quiet,” Nick said as he smiled for the camera, which captured the moment.
“I can’t wait to dance tonight,” said Ashley, who was wearing a light blue dress.
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Paper stars with students’ names hung from the ceiling above the dance floor. Glow sticks attached to them shed green light.
It was time to dance.
As a disc jockey played songs with different tempos, students moved to the music.
Zach bent forward to reach Jesica’s wheelchair. Back and forth, Zach moved Jesica on wheels.
Their eyes met.
“Hi,” he said.
Jesica beamed with a smile.
In between dances, people sang karaoke. The party was in full swing when they sang “YMCA,” clapping their hands above their heads.
The time just flew by. The last song came too soon for Jesica.
Back and forth, Zach moved her wheelchair. At song’s end, he took her left hand and kissed it.
Near 10 p.m., Zach went to a school van in the parking lot, Jesica to a white Ford Explorer.
Jesica was lifted and seated on the passenger seat. Her mother looked at her and read her mind.
“Cinderella doesn’t want to go home,” Korzan said.
Reporter Yoshiaki Nohara: 425-339-3029 or ynohara@heraldnet.com.
