“When life hands you lemons, make pickles,” my friend Arthur Cohen says. He is CPO (Chief Pickle Officer) at PickALS, a nonprofit he and his wife, Janet, started to raise money for ALS research and patient care.
Friends, family, and neighbors already loved Arthur’s flavorful, garlicky pickles that he made from the cucumbers in his backyard. So when he was diagnosed with ALS in 2014, they decided it was “crunch time for a cure.”
With his “brine trust” (the pun possibilities are endless) of friends and neighbors, PickALS has expanded way beyond its humble roots (see?). No really, they have a chalkboard full of them:
What started as a hobby in the kitchen soon demanded an army of volunteers and eventually a manufacturing partner.
I just adore Arthur’s take on their success:
“This is only a tiny bit about me. It’s more about friends, family and community. People getting together in a fun atmosphere to try to make a difference and not giving up hope. Equal parts therapy, altruism and capitalism.”
Like, well, everybody, I immediately became a fan the first time I met Arthur and Janet last year at ALS.net’s gala in Boston. Here is what I wrote then:
Even though ALS has taken his voice completely, we carried on like old friends as he typed with one thumb on his iPhone. When he wasn’t “talking,” his hand was over his mouth, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. We discovered our tuxedo cats, Charlie and Lizzie, must have been separated at birth because they’re practically twins. Tomorrow was his 29th anniversary with Janet. He was genuinely happy – no, he was brimming with joy – just as caught up as I was in the enchanted energy of the evening, watching the beautiful souls swirling around us who’d endured so much heartache that could have stolen their spirit. And still, there they were: laughing, hugging, taking photos, connecting.
Since Arthur & Janet live the next town over from the Hebrons, I got to see them on our road trip too. I had some trouble finding their house at first and messaged Arthur from the spot where I’d pulled over.
“Hang on! I’m coming to get you,” he messaged back. Huh? Arthur doesn’t drive, I thought.
As I turned the corner, I saw Arthur, flying down the middle of the neighborhood street in his scooter, waving and smiling like crazy.
THIS is why Artie is an inspiration to me. He can’t speak, types with his thumb, endures all the daily frustrations that go along with ALS, and yet he is overflowing with happiness. He gives me hope that it’s possible. He is proof that it is possible.
This time, I got to meet his daughter Tess, who just turned 21 and her friend from film school – together they’re shooting a documentary about Arthur. His sister from Baltimore was also visiting. And a neighbor stopped by to measure a pickle jar so she can work on a label. Janet chatted with us between work calls for her job as a copy editor. Oh, and the powerchair repairman came (said it was the first time a customer had offered him a jar of pickles as a tip).
Tess said it was always like that around the house. A rotating cast of friends and family coming and going, helping out with PickALS or stuff around the house or just visiting. I hope that’s our house one day.
Of course, Arthur wasn’t always a pickle tycoon. He was a professional photographer in New York City. Peruse his portfolios and I bet you’ll recognize someone famous or see a cover of a magazine you’ve read. Here are two of my favorites:
But when I asked him what he misses most about his pre-ALS life, it’s not photography. It’s speaking — to his wife in particular. “I can handle the rest,” he said in an email, “but not being able to talk to Janet kills me.”
I can and can’t imagine. But in the few conversations we’ve had, I’ve never had trouble understanding him. Between the iPhone around his neck and his expressions, it’s pretty easy to tell what he’s trying to convey. It’s not the same as being able to say whatever you want when you want, but it gives me hope.
He also shared with me the greatest advice ever – the mantra of his friend with ALS, Dave Adox, who passed away a few months ago: Until further notice, celebrate everything.
Up Next
Recap of Race #7, the Blueberry Cove 13.1, that DP and I did last weekend in Arthur’s honor.
In the meantime, why not order your own ½ case of PickALS and share them with friends? (the holidays are coming!) As the website says, they’re so good ALS might really stand for “Addictive Little Suckers.”