09/26/2025
“My connection to donation is personal on many levels—I am both a donor family member and a recipient family member.
In 1999, my brother, Lionel, suffered an aneurysm while jogging. Within 72 hours, he was gone. As a family, we were in shock when we were approached about donation. It took us hours to say yes. Then one of my brothers reminded us that Lionel had wanted to be an organ donor. We asked if it was possible for his kidney to go directly to my husband who was on dialysis at the time. The next morning we got the call—it was a match.
I’ll never forget the nurse arriving at the hospital with the ice chest carrying Lionel’s kidney. At the same time, we were planning my brother’s funeral. It was bittersweet—grieving Lionel while praying for my husband’s transplant to succeed. During my brother’s service, our pastor shared the good news: the kidney works. That moment gave us both tears and joy.
My husband struggled with survivor’s guilt, but our family surrounded him with love. He became a volunteer with me at the Louisiana Organ Procurement Agency, sharing his story while I shared my brother’s. When my husband later passed away, he made me promise to give whatever could still help others. His corneas went on to restore sight to two people.
I’ll be honest—after his death, I didn’t want to talk about donation anymore. But LOPA - Louisiana Organ Procurement Agency kept reaching out. Eventually, I spoke at a pastors’ conference about the African American experience in donation. Soon after, I was offered a role with LOPA. Nine months after losing my husband, I became a full-time community educator, and I’ve now been doing this work for 24 years.
Donation has touched my family deeply—through loss, through gifts, and through healing. This mission is personal, and I’m still here because I know the power it has to change lives.”
—Cheryl McGee-H.
