Institute in Monterey before they went
overseas. Jim told Doug and his other
comrades about his predicament.
“I asked him what his blood type is,
and he said, ‘O positive,’” says Doug,
an author who lives in Eugene, Or-
egon. “Well, that happens to be my
blood type. I was immediately think-
ing, Gosh, I might be able to help.”
Doug, then 70, knew from regular
visits to his doctor that he was healthy
and vigorous. He also felt a strong
bond with his band of brothers, even
though he hadn’t seen some of themin decades. Their connection went
beyond the battlefield in ways most
soldiers never experience.
After entering the Air Force in the
’60s and serving for three years, Doug
decided to register as a conscientious
objector, an unusual decision by an
active-duty military person. He contin-
ued to serve while waiting for his case
to be heard. In the meantime, a mem-
ber of his unit wrote a letter supporting
his petition to become a conscientious
objector. “I’ve always appreciated
that some of those fellows helped me
during my time of need,” says Doug,
who won his case after a few months
and was reassigned to noncombatant“The reason I was fatigued,” Jim says,
“was that my kidneys were gone.”
Jim, 69, immediately started dialysis
three days a week, but his long-term
prognosis wasn’t good. A person his
age on dialysis usually lives only about
four years. Transplants are a long-
shot alternative. The National Kidney
Foundation estimates that 13 people
die every day while waiting for a donor
with the right blood and tissue types.
Jim’s wife, Shirley McGee, was a
match, and his 37-year-old nephew,
a police detective in great shape, also
stepped up. But their kidney func-
tions weren’t strong enough. Four
family friends offered but weren’t a
match. Desperate, Shirley had T-shirts
made up that said “I’m in need of a
donor.” Her husband would wear one
whenever he went to downtown Sara-
sota. No luck. Jim was so discouraged
that, in early 2018, he was even con-
sidering not attending a reunion of
some Air Force buddies in Monterey,
California.
“I said, ‘Is this really worth going
out to Monterey to sit in dialysis for
two days?’” Jim recalls. “And my wife
said, ‘Yeah, come on. You really want
to see your friends.’ And boy, am I
glad I made that decision.”
At a bed-and-breakfast in California,
Jim reunited with six fellow airmen,
including one he hadn’t seen in nearly
50 years: Doug Coffman. The two had
met when they both were learning
Vietnamese in a nine-month immer-
sion course at the Defense Language
“I KNOW I’VE GOT
TWO REALLY GOOD
KIDNEYS, SO I’D LIKE
TO GIVE THIS A GO.”rd.com 55