The Friends4Michael Foundation

Every day, 13 children and teens are diagnosed with a brain tumor, the deadliest and most common form of cancer in kids under 15. Every day after, they are in a fight for their life.

March 12, 2002 Michael Johnny was one of those 13. Please take the time to read about that day from Michael's father, Mike Kwinn. If you feel moved, please consider going to https://friends4michael.org/donate/ and helping us to continue to Michael's mission to make sure that one day, no family will be one of the 13.

I know this is long, but we'll repost it every year, because it matters:

The 12th of March to me is “The Hollow Day” and it always will be. On that day in 2002, I was asked by the Chief Radiologist at Keller Army Hospital to come to his office and saw my son’s brain MRI for the first time. Even though I didn’t know much about the brain at that time, I knew immediately that it didn’t look right. At that moment, everything left me. I suddenly felt nothing. Everything that had filled my life for so many years – worries, fears, joy, pain – completely left me…hollow.

The doctors spoke to me, and I could barely hear them as my mind screamed “OH MY GOD. PLEASE SAVE MY SON!” I remember telling myself to breathe, but don’t remember being able to do so. I must have seemed oddly calm but was so hollow that I didn’t know if I could stand to go to my son. I tried to think of what to tell him, but I had no thoughts other than the screaming prayers racing in my mind and fear.

I took Michael outside and turned to him. Even though he was only 13, he was 6’2” already and looked me in the eye. I made a decision immediately to tell him everything – though I have known many parents in this situation who do the opposite. I am not sure what is right, but I can tell you that you don’t have long to make that decision. I told him that he had a brain tumor and that he had to know that he might die from this. I told him that I loved him and that I would be there for him forever. I also told him that his mother (who was serving in Korea at the time) would be coming home soon to take care of him, too. He had tears in his eyes but later he would say that was only because I did. And I hugged him.

I made phone calls to my boss Mike, then to John and Chris. I told them that I needed but couldn’t explain all that I needed. I didn’t have to. They all knew, and they jumped to action without guidance. Within seconds they raised the forces of good against this evil. Caroline, Debbie, Ron, Mike, Bonnie, Ed, Betty, Dan and so many more stopped what they were doing, quit their jobs for the day and jumped to fill the need. Their friendship at that time is something that I will never forget and can never match.

Michael wanted to go back to studying his homework. He told me he had a test that day. We walked through the rest of the appointments to setup the appointments and then it was time to leave. We started the drive home and I still could not feel anything. Michael shook me out of it. He said, “You know, this is actually a good thing.” Stunned, I turned to him and said, “How on earth can anything about this be a good thing?” He smiled and said, “Well, at least now we know what it is and now we can focus on fighting it.” For 13 ½ years, I tried to show my son how to be a man. For the next 14 ½ months, he would show me.

He wanted to go to school so I dropped him off, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to go home and hold him. I wanted to never let him go. But I dropped him off and went home alone to make the most difficult phone call of my life. I had to call Brigitte and tell her that she had to come home and take care of her son because his daddy couldn’t protect him and care for him. That was the first time I really cried that day.

Today, I remember the day when God made me hollow only to refill me during the next months with my son and during the years without him. In that time, I was filled with hope, with sorrow, with pain and with joy, with friendship, with loneliness, with courage and with despair. All that I knew that day left me only to learn new lessons from my son, my wife, my daughter, and my friends. I will never be the same person I was on March 11th, 2002, because the next day I became hollow and on this day each year I become hollow again only to be filled with the lessons of strength and love from those around me.

Donate Donate to our cause and help families today! All donations make a difference and are tax deductible!  Thank you for your support!

At the rising sun and at its going down; We remember them.
At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter; We remember them.
At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring; We remember them.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer; We remember them.
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of the autumn; We remember them.
At the beginning of the year and when it ends; We remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us as We remember them.
When we are weary and in need of strength; We remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart; We remember them.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make; We remember them.
When we have joy we crave to share; We remember them.
When we have achievements that are based on theirs; We remember them.
For as long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us as, We remember them.
—- ‘We Remember Them’ by Sylvan Kamens & Rabbi Jack Riemer

Thank you National Brain Tumor Society for sharing this beautiful poem at this morning’s rememberance ceremony.

Brigitte Kwinn and Cheryl Kwarriott representing the The Friends4Michael Foundation at the National Brain Tumor Society 5K in Boston this morning.

Today is “The Day.” Anniversaries of loss hurt like hell.

Twenty years ago, at 7:36AM, Michael passed away. Today, 20 years later, we continue to honor his legacy. Your donations save lives and families. Your contributions help us make sure that one day, no family wakes up to a world without their brain tumor warrior.

Here is one of the ways The Friends4Michael Foundation puts our donations to work - thank you to our friends at the National Brain Tumor Society for helping us support the mission of the Friends4Michael Foundation.

Michael mattered, and his legacy is more than most - because of you. Thank you.

This is what your donations support! We committed from the beginning to helping families with children with brain tumors, and with your support - we can.

Thank you to The Friends4Michael Foundation for supporting our Head to the Hill scholarship program this year! Because of their generosity, more advocates across the country could attend yesterday’s event to advocate for change and share their stories on Capitol Hill.

Great turnout in person at the Race for Hope-DC - Curebraintumors.org in DC! Many thanks to our friends for representing The Friends4Michael Foundation at Michael’s Run🧡💚 there’s still time to donate at this post (directly to F4M) or to our friends at the National Brain Tumor Society for the race here: https://bndfr.com/2f5Cp

Checking in from my little family to yours - this is Cheryl, Michael’s sister and the president of The Friends4Michael Foundation. Today I was honored to share this years Race for Hope-DC - Curebraintumors.org virtually with my family, especially my wife and kids here in Boston and my parents (Brigitte Kwinn and Mike Kwinn) virtually in Arizona.

We did end our “5k” with ice cream, because, of course, toddlers 🍨

Please help us show up for pediatric brain tumors and the National Brain Tumor Society, and show up to honor and remember Michael who passed away 20 years ago… your donations help fund research and advocacy for pediatric brain tumors. Please donote directly to the Friends4Michael Foundation through this post or at my Race for Hope Fundraiser here! https://bndfr.com/2f5Cp

Coast to Coast, we’re showing up for the Race For Hope (National Brain Tumor Society) to commemorate the 20th anniversary of Michael’s passing. It was at this race that Michael started The Friends4Michael Foundation, and it’s humbling to see his legacy continue! Please continue to support with a donation from this post, or donate to Cheryl’s Race for Hope Fundraiser here! https://bndfr.com/2f5Cp

We miss you, Michael Johnny. Thank you for all the goodness you brought into the world and into us.

Remember to Go Gray in May with the The Friends4Michael Foundation!!! 🧠 You can support us directly at the link below, join our team at the Race For Hope, or just like / share this page!

Thank you for all you do to support Michael's angels 🫂

National Brain Tumor Society is excited to partner with Road Runner Sports for a multi-week fundraising campaign. Visit your local store and mention NBTS at the time of purchase to receive a special in store discount and 10% donation back to National Brain Tumor Society. Participating store locations listed below:

Road Runner Sports Arlington, VA
Road Runner Sports Falls Church, VA
Road Runner Sports Sterling, VA
Road Runner Sports Rockville, MD
Road Runner Sports Elkridge, MD

Offer is available from April 17-30 and again May 8-21. Discounts will also be available at Road Runner Sports Arlington during our Race for Hope DC packet pickups on May 5 and 6.

This year will be 20 years since Michael passed away. Help us show up (virtually) at what we affectionately refer to as Michael's Run.

I cannot believe that it was 20 years ago that we first formed as a team to support our son Michael as he raised money and participated in the Race for Hope DC. Yes, the Friends4Michael team was started at this event. Our friend, Debbie Edelen came up with the name when we were about to launch our Race for Hope team page. What a name and what a legacy. We were the first team to have over 100 participants and the first team to raise over $50,000 in the race! We have donated over $300K in total over the years. Thank you to all who have been with us along the way.

We are doing it again this year - though somewhat differently. Our immediate family will be participating virtually from Tucson and from Boston. We want to encourage as many of you as possible to join us. You can sign up for the in-person event if you are near DC or you can sign up virtually and participate at home.(or just say you did! :-) ) Either way, we hope that you will sign up and join us in celebrating the 20th year of our wonderful Friends4Michael team - it is only $40 and it all goes to a good cause. It has been so wonderful honoring Michael John and all he has done to Fight for a Cure.

Join our team here:

Race For Hope DC: Friends4Michael - National Brain Tumor Society We do this race for our son, Michael III. Michael so loved this race and being able to participate in it. Back in 2002, I remember him on stage making a presentation to a small crowd in the old race location. He donated more than they had ever seen before - $15,000!

For our family, May 31st is "The Day". More precisely, it is the anniversary of "The Day". On 31 May 2003, Michael Johnny, our brave and beautiful son and brother, passed away from a brain stem tumor. It might seem odd to you but even after all this time, I say passed away - just cannot say died. I guess because that seems so sudden and it wasn't. The brain tumor slowly took away his ability to walk, then use his arms, then speak and even breath on his own.

In early April we brought him home for the last time and cared for him and our living room turned into a hospital ward. We eventually had nurse support but often it was just Brigitte and I. I would often come down stairs when Brigitte was with Michael and watch her just hold his hand while he slept while she tried not to wake him up while she cried.

You try with all your might at this stage to not let your brain go there, but you cannot help but think of “The Day”. When will be the day you will remember forever – the cay you cannot forget? I will admit that I was greatly relieved when Michael lived past Mother’s Day and Brigitte’s birthday in May. Finally, the day came.

Rich and Christy Morales were at our house that evening and Christy spent hours with Michael just talking to him as he could hardly communicate. Brigitte was very sick and upstairs sleeping. After they left, I gave Michael his treatments and noticed his heart rate was super high which previously meant that he was in pain though now he had no sensation in his body. I woke Brigitte to help. We thought that maybe he just needed to sleep. We convinced him that he should rest, told him that we loved him, asked him for one more “Michael Johnny smile” and he closed his eyes. He never opened them again.

Brigitte and I rushed him to the hospital and though we hoped that they could stabilize him, we both thought that this would be “The Day”. At Keller Army Hospital at West Point, we found nurses and doctors who were friends. They worked furiously to get a line into Michael but the steroids and other drugs had destroyed his veins. Eventually, he started to go into cardiac arrest. Suddenly, there were people everywhere – including all the hospital administration and leadership. They asked us to go to the waiting room.

I found myself in the waiting room but thought, “I have been with my son for all 14 months of this. I have held his hand every day and as often as I could. I cannot be the Daddy that makes it all better, but I can be the Daddy that is there to hold his hand and I will be damned if I don’t hold his hand through this.” So we went back into the room. I held my son’s hand so tight. I prayed the Rosary with the other hand as the doctor doing chest massage kept Michael alive until the priest came to give Last Rites. And then he was gone.

I thought I would be the strong one when it happened. I wasn’t. It all came down on me and I cried like I have never cried before nor will again. Brigitte cried, too while they left us alone with our son. Eventually, Brigitte turned to me and said, “It is time to go. He is not here.” I immediately thought of Mary at the tomb – what a thought – and I let go of Michael’s hand. I can still feel it in mine.

Some years ago, a friend told me that I was “not over Michael’s passing”. I wonder what that means. That I don’t feel the pain? That I don’t remember him in this 14 years of life or that I just don’t remember his 14 months of death? I don’t want to get over this pain. I want to keep him with me forever. It does not go away. He is my son.

In the years since Michael has passed, we have built his Foundation to help families who are wondering about “The Day” for their family. There is not parent that should have to struggle this way and we can do something about this. You can help. There are a lot of causes out there. They are all good. But when you lose a child, there is but one cause. You want to make sure that others don’t have to. No one wants to go through this as a parent. The question is when are you going to step up and make a difference? I know that Michael would ask that for you, that this is “The Day”.

A note from Michaels father. I’m sure this may resonate with so many of you.

“The 12th of March to me is “The Hollow Day” and it always will be. 20 years ago today I was asked by the Chief Radiologist at Keller Army Hospital to come to his office and saw my son’s brain MRI for the first time. Even though I didn’t know much about the brain at that time, I knew immediately that it didn’t look right. At that moment, everything left me. I suddenly felt nothing. Everything that had filled my life for so many years – worries, fears, joy, pain – completely left me…hollow.

The doctors spoke to me and I could barely hear them as my mind screamed “OH MY GOD. PLEASE SAVE MY SON!” I remember telling myself to breathe, but don’t remember being able to do so. I must have seemed oddly calm but was so hollow that I didn’t know if I could stand to go to my son. I tried to think of what to tell him, but I had no thoughts other than the screaming prayers racing in my mind and fear.

I took Michael outside and turned to him. Even though he was only 13, he was 6’2” already and looked me in the eye. I made a decision immediately to tell him everything – though I have known many parents in this situation who do the opposite. I am not sure what is right, but I can tell you that you don’t have long to make that decision. I told him that he had a brain tumor and that he had to know that he might die from this. I told him that I loved him and that I would be there for him forever. I also told him that his mother (who was serving in Korea at the time) would be coming home soon to take care of him, too. He had tears in his eyes but later he would say that was only because I did. And I hugged him.

I made phone calls to my boss Mike, then to John and Chris. I told them that I needed but couldn’t explain all that I needed. I didn’t have to. They all knew and they jumped to action without guidance. Within seconds they raised the forces of good against this evil. Caroline, Debbie, Ron, Mike, Bonnie, Ed, Betty, Dan and so many more stopped what they were doing, quit their jobs for the day and jumped to fill the need. Their friendship at that time is something that I will never forget and can never match.

Michael wanted to go back to studying his homework. He told me he had a test that day. We walked through the rest of the appointments to setup the appointments and then it was time to leave. We started the drive home and I still could not feel anything. Michael shook me out of it. He said, “You know, this is actually a good thing.” Stunned, I turned to him and said, “How on earth can anything about this be a good thing?” He smiled and said, “Well, at least now we know what it is and now we can focus on fighting it.” For 13 ½ years, I tried to show my son how to be a man. For the next 14 ½ months, he would show me.

He wanted to go to school so I dropped him off but I didn’t want to. I wanted to go home and hold him. I wanted to never let him go. But I dropped him off and went home alone to make the most difficult phone call of my life. I had to call Brigitte and tell her that she had to come home and take care of her son because his daddy couldn’t protect him and care for him. That was the first time I really cried that day.

Today, I remember the day when God made me hollow only to refill me during the next months with my son and during the years without him. In that time, I was filled with hope, with sorrow, with pain and with joy; with friendship, with loneliness, with courage and with despair. All that I knew that day left me only to learn new lessons from my son, my wife, my daughter and my friends. I will never be the same person I was on March 11th, 2002 because the next day I became hollow and on this day each year I become hollow again only to be filled with the lessons of strength and love from those around me.”

The Friends4Michael Foundation Send a message to learn more

Today is a day of thanks in the United States, a day for family and feasting and gratitude. For many of our families, however, it’s a reminder of the empty seat at the table… a seat for a child that is fighting for their life at the hospital when they should be home, a seat for the baby that was taken too soon from a brain tumor. When my brother, Michael, passed away in 2003, it was the last time for a long time that my family ate Thanksgiving dinner at the table… that empty seat was too hard for us to look at. It’s been years, and our family has grown and changed. But we will always remember to leave a space for Michael. Today, on Thanksgiving, please remember to leave space in your heart for the children who aren’t able to be home with their families today. We love you all. Be safe.

The Friends4Michael Foundation Send a message to learn more

We’re honored to share with you what we’ve been able to accomplish with your help and donations!

We have used your generous donations to provide a $25K charitable contribution to MSK Kids, Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center’s pediatric program, where Michael was treated. This donation was split across three funds:
* The Pediatric Neuro-Oncology Fund, led by Michael’s doctor, Dr. Yasmin Khakoo: Supports research targeting cancers of the central nervous system in children, with a focus on developing treatments that can outsmart cancer while preserving neurologic and cognitive function.
* The Pediatric Fast Track Fund: Provides funding and resources to swiftly and safely adapt new cancer therapies for pediatrics. The fund will allow Dr. Andrew Kung, Chair of the Department of Pediatrics, to initiate a clinical trial as soon as solid evidence emerges that an adult therapy could work just as well in children.
* The Joy Fund: Provides funding to MSK Kids’ Child Life Services Program. Per Michael’s request when he was a patient, we asked that this donation be used for programming for teenagers like him.

We want to continue to give to the community that needs us so much - the pandemic did not slow down pediatric brain tumor diagnoses, but the foundation was inundated with requests for help for those impacted by the pandemic while struggling to care for their sick child. Your donations help us to Fight For a Cure through charitable donations to research organizations, and help us improve these children’s quality of life through contributions to organizations like Make-A-Wish and the Joy Fund at MSK Kids.

I am pleased to share that the Friends4Michael Foundation’s plaque has been installed in Memorial Hall II of Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center's main campus! Here is a video of the plaque’s virtual unveiling:

A virtual plaque unveiling prepared for the Friends4Michael Foundation Until the time we can gather together again in person, it is our honor to share this virtual plaque unveiling prepared for the Friends4Michael Foundation. Thank…

I am excited to share with everyone that in celebration of Make-A-Wish Hudson Valley’s 35th Anniversary, Michael’s dad, Mike Kwinn, was a guest on the . Join me and our family in supporting and listen to the episode by visiting hudson.wish.org/podcast

The Wish House Podcast Since 1986, we have been surrounded by passionate, caring and inspiring people - join us as we explore their stories. This podcast will give you a behind the scenes look at how wishes are granted and the people helping us fulfill them every single day. Serving the eight counties of Delaware, Dutches...

All, while Michael’s dad may be off Facebook he still is able to speak for many of us and to our hearts. Please see below from Michael’s dad:



For us today is The Day. Fitting on this Memorial Day as son many other families remember The Day for their fallen soldiers. Something to reflect on for today. I am headed out on a ride on my Harley with daughter Emerald and my friend Greg and thinking about Michael. We are headed to the Veteran’s Cemetery to honor those there. Hope you find a way to commemorate someone today.

The Day

For our family, May 31st is "The Day". More precisely, it is the anniversary of "The Day". On 31 May 2003, Michael Johnny, our brave and beautiful son and brother, passed away from a brain stem tumor. It might seem odd to you but even after all this time, I say passed away - just cannot say died. I guess because that seems so sudden and it wasn't. The brain tumor slowly took away his ability to walk, then use his arms, then speak and even breath on his own.

In early April we brought him home for the last time and cared for him and our living room turned into a hospital ward. We eventually had nurse support but often it was just Brigitte and I. I would often come down stairs when Brigitte was with Michael and watch her just hold his hand while he slept while she tried not to wake him up while she cried.

You try with all your might at this stage to not let your brain go there, but you cannot help but think of “The Day”. When will be the day you will remember forever – the cay you cannot forget? I will admit that I was greatly relieved when Michael lived past Mother’s Day and Brigitte’s birthday in May. Finally, the day came.

Rich and Christy Morales were at our house that evening and Christy spent hours with Michael just talking to him as he could hardly communicate. Brigitte was very sick and upstairs sleeping. After they left, I gave Michael his treatments and noticed his heart rate was super high which previously meant that he was in pain though now he had no sensation in his body. I woke Brigitte to help. We thought that maybe he just needed to sleep. We convinced him that he should rest, told him that we loved him, asked him for one more “Michael Johnny smile” and he closed his eyes. He never opened them again.

Brigitte and I rushed him to the hospital and though we hoped that they could stabilize him, we both thought that this would be “The Day”. At Keller Army Hospital at West Point, we found nurses and doctors who were friends. They worked furiously to get a line into Michael but the steroids and other drugs had destroyed his veins. Eventually, he started to go into cardiac arrest. Suddenly, there were people everywhere – including all the hospital administration and leadership. They asked us to go to the waiting room.

I found myself in the waiting room but thought, “I have been with my son for all 14 months of this. I have held his hand every day and as often as I could. I cannot be the Daddy that makes it all better, but I can be the Daddy that is there to hold his hand and I will be damned if I don’t hold his hand through this.” So we went back into the room. I held my son’s hand so tight. I prayed the Rosary with the other hand as the doctor doing chest massage kept Michael alive until the priest came to give Last Rites. And then he was gone.

I thought I would be the strong one when it happened. I wasn’t. It all came down on me and I cried like I have never cried before nor will again. Brigitte cried, too while they left us alone with our son. Eventually, Brigitte turned to me and said, “It is time to go. He is not here.” I immediately thought of Mary at the tomb – what a thought – and I let go of Michael’s hand. I can still feel it in mine.

Some years ago, a friend told me that I was “not over Michael’s passing”. I wonder what that means. That I don’t feel the pain? That I don’t remember him in this 14 years of life or that I just don’t remember his 14 months of death? I don’t want to get over this pain. I want to keep him with me forever. It does not go away. He is my son.

In the years since Michael has passed, we have built his Foundation to help families who are wondering about “The Day” for their family. There is not parent that should have to struggle this way and we can do something about this. You can help. There are a lot of causes out there. They are all good. But when you lose a child, there is but one cause. You want to make sure that others don’t have to. No one wants to go through this as a parent. The question is when are you going to step up and make a difference? I know that Michael would ask that for you, that this is “The Day”.

Hi all, I want to re-share a post that Michael's dad wrote a few years ago - and an experience that many of our families understand deeply.

Please keep this experience, and that this is unfortunately the reality for so many. Despite the pandemic, children are still being diagnosed with brain tumors and need our help. While our impact has pivoted to contributing to research and hospitals, we honor our commitment to Fight for a Cure... and we need your help.

This is his experience, on the anniversary of the Hollow Day:

The 12th of March to me is “The Hollow Day” and it always will be. Thirteen years ago today I was asked by the Chief Radiologist at Keller Army Hospital to come to his office and saw my son’s brain MRI for the first time. Even though I didn’t know much about the brain at that time, I knew immediately that it didn’t look right. At that moment, everything left me. I suddenly felt nothing. Everything that had filled my life for so many years – worries, fears, joy, pain – completely left me…hollow.
The doctors spoke to me and I could barely hear them as my mind screamed “OH MY GOD. PLEASE SAVE MY SON!” I remember telling myself to breathe, but don’t remember being able to do so. I must have seemed oddly calm but was so hollow that I didn’t know if I could stand to go to my son. I tried to think of what to tell him, but I had no thoughts other than the screaming prayers racing in my mind and fear. I took Michael outside and turned to him. Even though he was only 13, he was 6’2” already and looked me in the eye. I made a decision immediately to tell him everything – though I have known many parents in this situation who do the opposite. I am not sure what is right, but I can tell you that you don’t have long to make that decision. I told him that he had a brain tumor and that he had to know that he might die from this. I told him that I loved him and that I would be there for him forever. I also told him that his mother (who was serving in Korea at the time) would be coming home soon to take care of him, too. He had tears in his eyes but later he would say that was only because I did. And I hugged him. I made phone calls to my boss Mike, then to John and Chris. I told them that I needed but couldn’t explain all that I needed. I didn’t have to. They all knew and they jumped to action without guidance.
Within seconds they raised the forces of good against this evil. Caroline, Debbie, Ron, Mike, Bonnie, Ed, Betty, Dan and so many more stopped what they were doing, quit their jobs for the day and jumped to fill the need. Their friendship at that time is something that I will never forget and can never match. Michael wanted to go back to studying his homework. He told me he had a test that day. We walked through the rest of the appointments to setup the appointments and then it was time to leave. We started the drive home and I still could not feel anything. Michael shook me out of it. He said, “You know, this is actually a good thing.” Stunned, I turned to him and said, “How on earth can anything about this be a good thing?” He smiled and said, “Well, at least now we know what it is and now we can focus on fighting it.” For 13 ½ years, I tried to show my son how to be a man. For the next 14 ½ months, he would show me.
He wanted to go to school so I dropped him off but I didn’t want to. I wanted to go home and hold him. I wanted to never let him go. But I dropped him off and went home alone to make the most difficult phone call of my life. I had to call Brigitte and tell her that she had to come home and take care of her son because his daddy couldn’t protect him and care for him. That was the first time I really cried that day.
Today, I remember the day when God made me hollow only to refill me during the next months with my son and during the years without him. In that time, I was filled with hope, with sorrow, with pain and with joy; with friendship, with loneliness, with courage and with despair. All that I knew that day left me only to learn new lessons from my son, my wife, my daughter and my friends. I will never be the same person I was on March 11th, 2002 because the next day I became hollow and on this day each year I become hollow again only to be filled with the lessons of strength and love from those around me.