calspliffkin

One night in 1995, Mariners broadcaster Rick Rizzs and former Mariners outfielder Dave Henderson were sitting in a bar in Pioneer Square after a game, having a beer. A news report came on the TV about homeless people in Seattle. The two of them started talking, and one thought stuck. How many of those people had kids who wouldn't be getting anything for Christmas? So they decided to do something about it. That night. They passed the hat among Mariners players, guys like Edgar Martinez, Jay Buhner, Dan Wilson, and John Olerud, and raised $18,000. They bought about 500 toys and delivered them to homeless and women's shelters around the city. They called it Toys for Kids. It did not stay small. Thirty years later, that idea born in a bar has raised well over a million dollars, bought brand-new toys for more than 200,000 children across Washington State, and thrown dozens of holiday parties for kids in shelters, hospitals, and impossible situations. Some years the fundraiser alone brings in more than half a million dollars. Rizzs plays Santa himself. Not a symbolic Santa. He shows up, hands out the gifts, and looks the kids in the eye. "It's not just a toy," he said. "To me, it represents hope that somebody cares about them and their moms." Then came the hard part. In December 2015, two days after Christmas, Dave Henderson died of a heart attack. He was 57. Rizzs lost his broadcast partner, his charity partner, and one of his closest friends all at once. "I miss him like crazy," Rizzs said. He could have let it fade. Instead, he kept it going, bigger every year, and made sure Henderson's name stayed on it. There's now a Dave Henderson Scholarship attached to the charity, handing college money to kids who write about what education means to them. Henderson was the kind of guy who, on one of those holiday visits, met a woman working at a shelter, noticed her car was falling apart, and quietly bought her a new one. "Who does that?" Rizzs said. "Dave Henderson does that." Two friends, a beer, and a news report. Three decades later, hundreds of thousands of Seattle kids have woken up to a present because of it.