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For Rosenbergs, Gasparilla Run Is About Honor, Survival

Tribune file photo by JAY NOLAN

Thousands of runners go down Bayshore Boulevard at the start of last year's Gasparilla 5K race.

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By JOE HENDERSON | The Tampa Tribune

Published: February 25, 2009

TAMPA - If you never got a chance to meet Ken Rosenberg, you missed on one of life's great treats. You could never forget him, that's for sure.

He was funny, smart, quick-witted, and had one of those personalities you couldn't help but like, even if you were mad at him. That happened a few times, to be completely honest, after he joined us at The Tampa Tribune's sports department about 32 years ago.

You only had to listen to him talk for a few seconds to know he came straight out of New York City, and he could be a little pushy and, um … he liked to argue, and he didn't like to lose.

Behind that brash mouth, though, beat a heart as caring as could be – especially when it came to his wife, Thelma. He called her Thel and loved her as much as anyone could. She loved him back just as deeply, and when Ken contracted leukemia – a disease that eventually took his life in October, 1983 – well, some things just break your heart because they aren't fair.

"He was fun-loving and loved what he did, he loved his children, and he gave everything 100 percent," Thelma said. "He was the love of my life."

That brings us to Saturday's Gasparilla Distance Classic run through the streets of Tampa. Thel will be there, along with their son and daughter and more than 20 other friends and relatives. Together, they'll walk the 5-kilometer distance in honor of a pledge they made 25 years ago in Ken's memory.

Gasparilla Was His Goal

Ken was undergoing treatment at the Hutchinson Cancer Clinic in Seattle when he told Thel that he would beat leukemia in time to run the 5K race at Gasparilla. The race was more than just a goal for him – it was a symbol of his toughness and perseverance.

Ken tried to run the 15K race a few years before with the idea of writing a first-person story on the feat. It was a warm day, though, and Ken wore his warm-up suit throughout the race. Not a good idea. He collapsed about 3/10 of a mile from the finish and was rushed by ambulance to Tampa General with severe dehydration.

"I remember waiting at the finish line for him, and waiting, and all these other runners finished and still no Ken," Thel said. "I thought he might have slipped through without me seeing him and gone back to the office to write his story, but he wasn't there, either. I finally called [former Tribune sports editor] Tom McEwen, who said he'd check on it and get back to me."

Ken was more embarrassed than hurt. He was also motivated. It was always a mistake to tell Ken he couldn't do something.

The next year, he finished the race and wrote his story. It was a good one, too.

After Ken died, Thel knew what she had to do. Since he couldn't make the race, she would run it for him. And so it was about four months after Ken passed that she completed the 5k in her husband's honor.

His son, Josh, was little more than a year old at the time. His daughter, Melissa, was 4 years old. They don't remember much about that first memorial run, but as the anniversary approached they told Thel that it was time to get back on the streets again. So if you see a group of 20 or more walkers laughing, telling stories, and looking maybe a little misty-eyed as they stroll down Bayshore, smile and wave. They're probably swapping tales about a gregarious big bear of a guy with a smile that could light up Manhattan.

Oh, and there is another purpose to the run as well.

Thel's Biggest Victory

In August 2007, Thelma Rosenberg – she has never remarried – was diagnosed with Stage 3 Ovarian cancer. She nearly died from an infection a few months later, but after a year of treatments, doctors told her she is cancer free.

"I was in the hospital for 21 days last January," she said. "I don't remember 10 of them. I was pretty far out there. That's why [Gasparilla] will be so emotional – for two reasons.

"For Ken, it was 25 years since we participated in his honor. For me, fighting what I did and come through, it's amazing to think about. I know it will be emotional being out there again, but it will be a good emotion."

Time moves on. Josh is 26 now. Thel swears he looks and sounds just like Ken, and – go figure – he works in sports media, too, producing the Web site for the American Hockey League. Melissa is 29 and still lives in Tampa, as does Thel – a middle school teacher at the Independent Day School in Carrollwood.

Ken would be proud of what they've become and what they're doing. He'd probably tell them to pick up the pace a little bit, and he'd bark at me to write this story better – followed by a wink and a laugh that, like Ken Rosenberg, was simply wonderful and unforgettable.

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