| Before he knew it, according to Fuchs,
Steinbrenner was not only asking him about the practical steps for
setting up a foundation and pledging his own full cooperation for
such an initiative, but also insisting that his luncheon partner
act as point man. “At first, I kept saying things like, ‘But
George, I have my business and I’m on so many boards already
that I don’t know if I’d have the time needed for such
an undertaking.’ But he wasn’t going to be discouraged.
And I guess the fact that I’ve been president, chairman, and/or
executive director since the beginning tells you what my decision
was.”
The foundation’s original mission was to help with the high
school or college tuitions for the children of fallen New York City
police officers and firefighters. In contrast to other charities,
the Silver Shield has never given money directly to those in need,
but only to the institutions where the money is required. Cases
are brought to the attention of the foundation by liaison people
in the police and fire departments, which assume all the preliminary
application work.
The very first beneficiaries of the aid were the families of NYPD
officers James Whittington, shot off-duty on October 29, 1982, and
James Rowley, an aviation unit officer who died in a helicopter
accident on July 22, 1983. By Fuchs’s estimate, the Whittington
and Rowley children were the first of more than 200 helped by Silver
Shield between 1982 and 2001. Then, with the September 2001 attacks
on the World Trade Center, what had been a steady stream of assistance
cases predictably turned into a flood. “In the immediate aftermath
of 9/11,” Fuchs notes, “we added 700 children and students
in a single day — more than triple what we had been doing
in all the years up till then.”
Along the way, there have been expansions both geographically
and in the content of the assistance program. By 2004, aid applications
were being received not only for the widows and children of New
York City police officers and firefighters, but also for those surviving
the deaths of Port Authority police officers; state troopers in
New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut; members every police department
within a (more or less) 75-mile radius of New York City; members
of every police department in Connecticut; and emergency medical
technicians.
And while education needs have accounted for most of the Silver
Shield interventions, they have hardly been alone. In listing the
organization’s top seven priorities, for example, Fuchs notes
that three of them go well beyond schooling considerations. He names
the seven as:
Tuition assistance.
Payments have been made to prep schools, colleges, graduate schools,
vocational schools and technical schools.
Tutoring.
Because of the emotional traumas suffered by children who have lost
fathers or mothers on duty, there is frequent need for special tutoring
to keep them on track academically. Here, as in other areas, the
foundation insists on rigorous standards and oversight procedures,
insuring, for instance, that the tutor selected is not just some
crony of the student eager for extracurricular cash.
College
prep. The foundation sponsors guidance counseling
services and courses for College Board exam preparations.
Counseling
and bereavement services. Through the New York University
Child Study Center and a number of independent psychologists, the
foundation pays bills for trauma counseling.
Health
care. The foundation underwrites thorough physical
examinations at New York Presbyterian’s Iris Cantor Women’s
Health Center for widows and widowers.
Outreach.
The foundation tries to assure survivors that their loss does not
get forgotten with the passing of the years through such initiatives
as regular holiday gift baskets and the sponsorship of an annual
luncheon for widows.
Programs
for widows. The spouses of fallen police officers
and firefighters are helped in tuition for their own schooling as
well as for that of their children.
Fuchs is particularly proud of the program underwriting the medical
exams for widows. When the idea was first broached, he says, Vina
Drennan, an advisory board member whose firefighter husband was
killed in the line of duty, volunteered to go to the Cantor Center
to see first-hand exactly how thorough the examination would be.
As Drennan related the experience: “You can ask any and every
question and you get full answers from professional, sensitive doctors.
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"My doctor called me with test results within
two days and was openly available to any further questions I had.
When my husband died, my children needed constant reassurance that
I would be there for them. The greatest gift I could give them was
to be able to tell them that the doctor said I was fine.”
The foundation president also cautions against “timetable
traumas.” “When a parent is lost,” he notes, “there
is a tendency to think that, okay, the kids are going to have a
real bad time for this many months, but after that, they’ll
begin getting their lives back on track. It doesn’t always
work out that neatly. Some traumas can almost be like time-capsule
pills — breaking out years later. When we take on a case,
we automatically set aside $20,000 for tuitions, tutoring fees and
the like.”
As for the source of the foundation’s funding, much of that
is indicated by its letterhead and organizational chart. Steinbrenner
remains the first name under Board of Trustees, with most of the
other board members representatives of New York financial houses
and advertising agencies. “When we were getting started,”
Fuchs says, “George set aside the net proceeds from a Yankee
Stadium game for the foundation. It came to something like $157,000.
Recently, though, we haven’t really needed that. So what he’s
done instead is to reward the foundation backers with special evenings
at the stadium, giving them his box or something of the sort.”
The Silver Shield has capped a busy career for Fuchs in athletics
and business. His first splash was as an Illinois high school track
star. A knee injury that curtailed that activity also proved to
be the door to greater athletic achievements. “When I was
convalescing, I started doing shot-put exercises. One of the first
things I realized was that the shot-putters of the day were practically
undermining their own spring because of a swing-stop-sweep approach.
Because I couldn’t afford to make that stop with my knee,
I developed a much more fluid catapult motion that completely eliminated
that cocking mechanism.”
One result of this new approach was a slew of medals in international
competitions. In both the 1948 London Olympics and the 1952 Helsinki
games, Fuchs captured bronze medals for the United States. In the
first Pan-American games, in 1951, he took home the gold for both
the shot-put and the discus. For one stretch between the late forties
and early fifties, he won a then-record 88 consecutive shot-put
competitions. Almost as gratifying, he says, was the realization
that his technique of eliminating the cock motion was soon being
emulated by other shot-putters around the world. “The first
time I noticed it was in Lisbon, when I went down on the field and
saw all these Europeans — Portuguese, French, Belgians —
doing what I had been doing mainly as physical therapy for my knee!
They started calling it a revolutionary technique, but all I’d
been concerned with had been keeping undue pressure off my leg!”
Fuchs’s business odyssey has included significant stop-offs
with the National Broadcasting Company, the Curtis Publishing Company,
the Mutual Broadcasting Company and Culligan Communications. Between
1971 and 1994, he was chairman and chief executive officer of Fuchs,
Cuthrell & Co., an international human resource consulting firm
specializing in corporate executive placement, post-career planning
and executive consulting. Through it all, the Yale graduate has
also been a familiar board presence — for the U.S. Olympic
Overview Commission, the International Sports Committee of the United
States Information Agency, the Madison Square Garden Boys and Girls
Club, the President’s Council on Physical Fitness, the National
Art Museum of Sports and the People to People Sports Committee.
In more recent years, however, the father of five daughters and
two sons and six-time grandfather has centered his activities on
the Silver Shield Foundation. “Put it this way,” he
says. “Before 9/11, I’d spend about a day a week on
the foundation. Now it’s more like seven days a week.”
His most satisfying moment?
“Well, there have been many. But how are you going to top
the fact that the daughter of one of the first fallen policemen
brought to our attention recently graduated from law school?”
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