A Life Cut Short by Leukemia
By Alicia Gallegos
Dressed in his dark green baseball jersey, with the number 12 stamped in white on the back, the 11-year-old peers through the chain-link fence of the baseball field, fingers stuck through the metal gaps, watching the men play ball. His straight brown hair falls just below his eyes and sticks to his forehead in the heat.
Normally the boy would be on the other side of the fence. Behind him the parents in the bleachers would normally be cheering for children not adults. And normally, his biggest fan would be in the stands rooting him on.
But his mom, Beth Yacso, died suddenly last month at 35.
Yacso was a woman who took the role of Little League mom to another level. She drove hordes of children to practices, juggled ice chests of soda with bat bags, and lived to rant and scream for players on any Little League team. She treasured being a Little League mom.
"She was at every practice, every game, even if her son wasn't playing," Little League parent Mary Corry said.
On June 27, the Gulf Beaches Little League held a fund-raiser in memory of Yacso, with all proceeds going to an education trust fund set up for her son, Jonathan. Players, families and even opposing team members came together at Gulf Beaches Little League field in Madeira Beach for the event. Rival coaches played a benefit softball game, volunteers sold watermelon and everything from haircuts to Tim McGraw posters was given away in raffles. More than $3,500 was raised. Parents of Little Leaguers laughed, recalling Yacso's intense cheering and competitive spirit during baseball games.
"She could be very loud," Little League mother Darlene McLean said. "You could hear her yelling from the bleachers."
Yacso was admitted to the hospital May 1 because she had trouble breathing. Doctors found she had Myelogenous Leukemia. She died May 7.
"To have someone like Beth pass away is a deep hole for everyone," McLean said. "'What about Jon?' pops up right away."
Born into Baseball
Patricia Yacso, Jonathan's grandmother, remembered that the day Jonathan was born, his mother cradled him in her arms and whispered, "Ah, Little League." An avid softball player in middle and high school, Yacso couldn't wait for her son to pick up a bat, Patricia said.
And Jonathan, going on 12 next month, has been playing the game for almost half his life. His tanned skin reveals long sunny afternoons on the baseball field, and he grins mischievously when he talks about why he loves the sport.
"I'm just so good at it," he says.
Jonathan says when it came to baseball his mother could do anything a dad could do.
"She's a mommy and a dad," he says. "She'd play catch with me all the time."
Yacso was a teacher's assistant at the Paul B. Stephens Exceptional Student Education Center. She balanced the position with being a Little League board member, organizing teams, ordering T-shirts and working concession stands.
Yacso and Jonathan would often be on the field an hour before practice, playing catch, Jonathan's coach, Edward McLean said.
His wife, Darlene, said when other parents couldn't attend games; Yacso would call them from the bleachers if their child made a home run.
At the fund-raiser, Jonathan talked about trips with his mom to batting cages and the special way she felt about baseball.
"She loved it," he says and then points to a fence above the dugout.
"She could hit it out of this field."
A Life of Love
Unlike her mother and sister's shock of red hair and freckles, Yacso had short brown hair that framed her face and piercing hazel eyes. Yacso stood 5-foot-11. She was a big woman with a booming voice.
She grew up in Columbus, Ohio, and moved with Jonathan and her parents to Seminole 10 years ago. Her sister Lisa, 30, said Yacso was passionate and stubborn just like their father and shared the "Yacso sense of humor."
"We find things funny that most people don't," Lisa said.
Patricia Yacso said her daughter loved to play the part of the clown. Literally. Yacso liked to dress up in a clown suit and entertain. In Columbus, she performed as a clown at the children's hospital, juggling and passing out a "hug coupon" that promised patients it was "redeemable from any participating human being."
"Beth was the most generous person I have ever known," Patricia said.
Yacso and Jonathan had lived with Yacso's parents since Jonathan was born. Elmer Yacso was a father figure for the boy because Jonathan's own father was never involved in his life, Patricia said. In 2001 Patricia and Elmer made the decision to adopt Jonathan.
Patricia said they were already helping to support him, and it was the best decision financially and emotionally for the family.
From Hospital to Tragedy
Beth Yacso took time off work when she got a cold in late April.
She had a persistent cough, and her breathing wasn't right, but she was used to dealing with asthma as the seasons changed, Patricia said.
Patricia kept nagging her daughter to go to the doctor for an asthma breathing treatment, and finally on the first Saturday in May, Beth gave in.
During treatment doctors noticed Yacso's blood count was abnormal. She was admitted to the hospital that night because of what family members thought was a bacterial infection.
But Beth's breathing rapidly got worse, and doctors began a series of tests to find out why.
Patricia, a former nurse, had noticed Yacso wasn't eating right or taking vitamins regularly, but she never had reason to believe her daughter was living with a fatal illness.
On Tuesday, Beth was diagnosed with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia, a disease marked by increased white blood cells that fail to fight infection.
Patricia said she made a call to Lisa, who lived in New Orleans and told her, "Beth is still alive, but you better come home.'"
The days seem to blend together for Patricia, as Yacso started chemotherapy and her family gathered at her hospital bed.
Thursday, Patricia sat with her sedated daughter, holding her hand and singing "Edelweiss," the lullaby Beth's father used to sing to her as a child.
"Thursday, we all thought she was going to be OK," Lisa remembered.
But that Friday, Beth's lungs shut down, and her body was too weak to fight back.
Jonathan was allowed in to see his mother that day. At first he stood outside the door, afraid to go near the woman who was connected to tubes and wires, Patricia said.
"I said, 'Jon, the nurses tell me sometimes it's good to see a person you love; it lets you understand and accept how sick they are.'"
Yacso's natural oxygen supply kept fluctuating, and doctors said she had probably suffered brain damage, Lisa said. Family members discussed it and decided it was best to stop the hospital oxygen supply.
"We just knew her spirit had gone," Lisa said.
It happened so quickly, Patricia said, in a blur of beeping machines and blinking hospital monitors. The oxygen supply was cut, and Yacso's heart stopped.
"I don't think you could ever prepare yourself for the death of a child," Patricia said. "It feels like a chunk of me is gone."
A Mother's Spirit
Jonathan said he misses having his mom there to watch his baseball games, even the times she was helping the other team. Jonathan remembers getting mad at her when she filled in for an umpire but said no, she would not call all pitches as balls when he was up at bat.
"Fairness is definitely her," he said.
Lisa has moved from New Orleans to Seminole to help care for Jonathan and will do her best to help soothe the pain of not having his baseball buddy, she said. But Beth Yacso will not soon be forgotten on the field. She's wrapped in the memories and anecdotes of Little League parents, friends and family. Her spirit lingers in the bleachers and as the 11-year-old stands near the field where his mother spent hours with him practicing, there she is, coaching him on.
Those interested in making donations to the Jonathan Trust Fund can call (727) 392-5524.
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