This is a printer friendly version from the Democrat and Chronicle: May 17, 2005
She was just 11 at the time and more than a little frightened. Told by doctors that she had this mysterious-sounding disease called polio, Chris Wagner looked up from her hospital bed and asked her ashen-faced parents if she would ever walk again.
"They couldn't answer me," Chris said from the dining room of her Webster home the other day, more than a half-century after that terrifying diagnosis. "I was just a young girl with my whole life ahead of me. Nobody knew what to expect."
Chris spent a year in Rochester hospitals and convalescent homes. Her treatments often were excruciating. Therapy sessions included everything from stretching atrophied muscles until they felt as if they would snap to placing boiling-hot towels on her uncooperative legs. There were times when the pain was so torturous she screamed.
But somehow, through it all, she kept the faith. Her persistence eventually paid off. Chris wound up walking again. Her father, former Times-Union sportswriter Charlie Wagner, was so grateful to the Infantile Paralysis Foundation for taking care of Chris' huge medical expenses that he searched for a meaningful way to say thanks.
With the help of his boss, Matt Jackson, he formed the Press-Radio Club and launched the Day of Champions Charity Dinner in 1950. A tradition was born one that has raised more than $1.5 million for local charities and will continue tonight at the Riverside Convention Center.
Among those in attendance will be Chris Wagner Welch, a 67-year-old married mother of four whose spirit remains indomitable despite the daunting challenges of post-polio syndrome.
"It's going to be an honor to be there," she said. "I'm sure I'm going to be bursting with pride." "It's kind of neat that it's falling on dad's birthday," she said. "He shied away from taking the credit he deserved, but this dinner and what it's done for people was very special to him, and it's very special to me."
Chris will be accompanied by her husband, John Welch, and their four grown children Marty, Kathleen, Eileen and Joanna. Her mom, Petie Wagner, a spunky octogenarian who volunteers twice a week at Rochester General Hospital, also will be there.
"I know Charlie would be proud to see the way our daughter continues to battle and to see the way people in Rochester still respond to this dinner," Petie said. "We never imagined it taking off the way it has, but we are so happy it has."
Chris attended many of the dinners in the 1950s and early 1960s. Those were the days when the Hickok Belt was presented to the top professional athlete in America, and a cavalcade of sports celebrities paraded through Rochester. She remembers seeing the likes of Phil Rizzuto, Rocky Marciano, Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle, Jim Brown and tonight's headliner Arnold Palmer.
In the early years of the banquet, one of the highlights would be an acknowledgment of her by master of ceremonies Jerry Flynn. Chris would be asked to stand and would receive flowers.
Among her highlights was meeting Bills quarterback Jim Kelly at the 1989 dinner and seeing Muhammad Ali at the 50th-anniversary banquet six years ago.
Although she was the source of inspiration for the dinner, she believes her father is more deserving of praise. So, too, has his daughter. Chris wound up graduating from Our Lady of Mercy High School and landed a job logging programs and commercials for radio and television station WVET.
She and Jack Welch, a classmate of Don Holleder's at Aquinas, will celebrate their 46th wedding anniversary later this month. In addition to four children, they have eight grandchildren.
In recent years, Chris has had to deal with post-polio syndrome. Overworked leg muscles that survived the ravages of polio as a child no longer can support her. She has fallen and broken a leg three times in the past five years alone. A walker and wheelchair have become her main modes of transportation.
But her deteriorating health hasn't been able to rob her of that infectious smile.
Doctors, nurses, therapists and visitors marveled at her determination. Chris was always upbeat, always smiling, always looking forward to a future without crutches, leg braces and supportive corsets.
She didn't realize it at the time, but by picking herself up, she raised the spirits of an entire community.
And she'll no doubt be thinking of her late father, who would have turned 90 today.
"He was a great father who did a lot of good behind the scenes," she said. "He was a lot of fun to be around, a real people person. He had a great life."
It's still the smile of a hopeful 11-year-old the smile that inspired a bunch of sportswriters and sportscasters to launch a dinner that keeps on giving.