This is a coffee story that our friends at Roast Magazine recently shared. Good people doing good things. We like that.
Check it out here or the link below: http://www.fayobserver.com/articles/2011/11/21/1138269?sac=Life
By Cassandra Spratling
Detroit Free Press
DETROIT - At 10 a.m. every Thursday - the same day he usually took his dad for chemotherapy treatment - Dan Dewey is at the cancer unit of St. Joseph Mercy Oakland hospital in Pontiac, Mich., taking coffee orders.
By about 10:30 a.m., he's at the Starbucks down the street.
Everyone knows to expect him: the staff and patients at the hospital, as well as the folks at Starbucks, where workers have come to fill Dewey's orders so efficiently, they rarely get complaints from customers anymore.
But every now and then, someone wonders why that guy in white shorts and a grey sweatshirt is holding up the line buying so many lattes, cappuccinos, espressos, strawberry smoothies, and, oh yeah, somebody wanted hot chocolate.
But the regulars know.
And when the complainers find out, well, they fall silent. And some of them put money down to help cover the cost.
Dewey buys the coffee for cancer patients every Thursday because his dad, Edgar Dewey, told him to.
Dan Dewey started his weekly runs when his dad was a patient in the center in 2007, and he continues even though his dad died at age 87 in 2008.
His dad had cancer, but the cancer didn't kill him. He conquered cancer twice. Dewey swears he died of a broken heart, just a few months after the passing of his wife of 62 years, Mary Jane Dandison Dewey. He simply lost the will to fight a third bout with cancer after his high school sweetheart died.
But the sweet essence of his heart lives on in Dan's Coffee Run.
Dan Dewey, 65, a retired educational broadcasting operator for Birmingham Public Schools, used to pay for the drinks - averaging about $50 a trip - out of his own pocket before a Starbucks staffer stepped in.
One of the baristas, Valerie Edgington, 46, decided last year to create a special debit-like card through which people could donate money for coffee runs. People can put money on the card in person at the Starbucks where Dan buys the drinks, or via a website (danscoffeerun.net) and Facebook page she set up. She also made T-shirts that sell for $20 and stickers ($5) to help spread the word and encourage contributions.
"He never asked for anything special," Edgington said. "He just came in every Thursday ordering all these different drinks. Finally, I asked him what he was doing, and I wanted to help."
Now there's usually enough money on the card to cover the costs, but when there isn't, Dewey goes back into his own pockets.
He has to.
See, when his dad was dying, he told him to keep getting drinks for the chemo patients. The coffee warmed his body and his soul.
He wanted that for others.
So does his son.
The doctors and nurses say there may be something therapeutic about Dewey's visits.
"It's definitely a mood-lifter, and a positive attitude is beneficial for any patient going through cancer treatment," said Kathy Courtney, oncology nurse and unit manager.
Oncologist Rajan Krishnan, the doctor who treated Dewey's dad, said the visits remind him of times gone by in his native India, when people stopped by simply to share a cup of tea or coffee. Doing so showed people they mattered.
Krishnan's mom in India misses those days; she recently lamented their loss in a telephone conversation with her doctor-son.
"She said no one just stops by to drink tea. They stop by to get my blood pressure, to check the electricity meter. But no one just stops by to share a cup of tea or coffee," he recalled her saying. "Sharing a beverage is a way to say I care about you. And that's what Dan's visit reminds me of."
Patients such as Mechelle Burdette, 45, of Eastpointe, Mich., appreciate that.
Burdette was at the center on a recent Thursday with her aunt, Sharon Ralston, 68, who was in from Palm Coast, Fla., helping to care for her. She has Stage 4 cancer - five brain tumors and a spot on her lung. She was diagnosed in July.
Burdette ordered a hazelnut cappuccino; her aunt ordered a plain latte.
"It's my favorite drink," Burdette said. "I love it."
"It's so special, it brings tears to your eyes," Burdette said of the coffee visits. "This is so sweet. It really picks you up. It gives you to the strength to make it through, just knowing the kind of people who are out there. It warms your heart."
Her aunt, a cancer survivor, said she offered to tip or pay Dewey, but he refused. "He said, 'Oh, no. No money touches my hands.' I don't think he's a man. I think he's an angel."
Sharon Donley, 68, of Port Huron was at the center getting treatment for a recurrence of ovarian cancer. She remembers Dewey from when she was treated in the past and was pleased to see he's still making his weekly rounds at the unit. She ordered a plain decaf latte.
"He just brings a smile to your face," Donley said. "It's such a wonderful thing to do for the patients. He brings you coffee, and he makes you laugh. It's such a wonderful thing to know that there's someone who doesn't even know you who cares. It makes a difference because when you're here, you're always a little nervous. And then you have this pleasant, familiar experience."
Dewey said bringing coffee isn't just about honoring his dad's wishes. It makes him feel good, too.
"If anyone doubts why anybody would do something like this, all you have to do is see these people smile," he said.
Besides, what else would he do with his time and money?
"I don't smoke or drink or gamble," said Dewey, who is single and has no children. "All I do is run marathons and this." He recently ran the Detroit Free Press/Talmer Bank Marathon, his 27th marathon.
Earlier this year, he also added periodic trips to Beaumont Hospital's Rose Cancer Center in Royal Oak because a patient there heard of his visits to St. Joseph and asked him to visit there, too.
"Well, the whole point of Starbucks is that it is special. I could get coffee any place, even out of the machines. But when you're stuck in a chair getting chemo, it's not fun. I want to add a little - what's the word? - panache. It's not just, 'Here's the coffee.' It's a little bit extra. The whole idea is to make them feel special."
And that he does.
It started with one cup of coffee.
Dan Dewey's dad, Edgar Dewey, sat in a chair with tubes pumping chemotherapy into his veins in the cancer treatment center of St. Joseph Mercy Oakland hospital in Pontiac.
His son was with him. As always.
But one Thursday morning in 2007, he told his son he'd like a cup of coffee. Before Dan Dewey left for the Starbucks down the street, they asked other patients in the room whether they'd like a cup, too.
"He's treating. I've got his wallet, and the nurse is holding him down," Dewey recalled saying at the time.
One cup became several. And now, Dewey's weekly order consists of 20 or more drinks, depending on how many patients are at the cancer center when he arrives.
"We love Dan," said oncology nurse and unit manager Kathy Courtney. "He's here rain or shine, blizzard or tornado. No matter what's going on out there, we know at 10 o'clock, he's going to be here."