More than 50 years later, locals tell Lev Bates he looks like that guy. Bates likes it even better when they say he acts like Naseby Rhinehart, his grandfather and a Missoula legend whose name graces the University of Montana's athletic training room.
“I'm continually striving to keep a smile on his face,” Bates says of Rhinehart, who died in 1991 after 47 years as a trainer and three as a multi-sport athlete at UM. “He means so much to me. He did stuff in the day when African-Americans ... I mean, our family was it in Missoula. Maybe a few at the university that stayed at the university.
Lev, 45, earns respect the same upbeat way as grandpa. He's reached thousands of kids as youth development director and head swim coach for the YMCA and Missoula's high school teams. He's reached even more Montanans with his infectious personality and quiet courage.
Bates also reacts to racism like grandpa. Like the time Lev politely held the door for white supremacists as they marched through the YMCA.
“I just smiled and said, ‘Welcome to the
Y,' ” he recalls with pride. “On the way out I said, ‘Thanks for coming.'
“I never saw that group again.”
Bates knows the value of love and understanding better than most. For all he's given, he's received even more.
Without Susan Huckeby, a mother of six and Bates' former boardroom adversary on matters of Montana swimming, Lev's life would be a dizzying blur of dialysis and kidney dysfunction. Instead, he was back working at the YMCA this past week, roughly seven weeks after Huckeby gave him a kidney.
Bates loves to talk about the cold February day when Huckeby's unexpected phone call changed his fading life.
“I thought, ‘Oh my God, my donor is a little white lady out of Butte,' ” said Bates, who suffered from Berger's disease. “We had a lot of fun with it. Then I got off the phone and my wife (Mary) and I were laughing and crying.
“I just can't speak enough of Susan's generosity. The odds are almost nil that non-related people have that high of number of genetic numbers in common.”
Huckeby, 48, fielded a lot of the same questions in February when news of her selfless decision leaked. Besides going under the knife, she committed to pay out more than $4,000 of her own money for the procedure.
“More than one person asked me, ‘Have you lost your mind?' ” she said. “They wondered, ‘Are you doing this for a family member? A close friend?'
“I can remember sitting there in shock when I heard about Lev's situation. I'm a Christian, and in the back of my head there was that small voice when God talks to you that said, ‘Susan, you can do this.' ”
Bates first learned of his kidney problem five years ago. A checkup revealed elevated blood pressure and a high level of protein in his urine.
With no family history of kidney failure, Lev spent years in denial. He simply attributed his increasing fatigue to a busy schedule.
“About August my doctor said, ‘We're going to have to be a little more proactive because you're down to 20 percent kidney function,' ” said Bates, whose name was added to a kidney waiting list. “By October it got worse, and in January I had to go on dialysis because my kidneys had pretty much shut down.”
For months Bates felt as though he was “carrying 400 pounds” on his shoulders and head. And that wasn't even the toughest part for this former member of the United States Olympic water polo team.
“I don't like to speak of myself at all, probably like most guys,” he said. “I found out the hardest thing to do is say, ‘I'm weak and I'm having medical issues.' The initial response was, ‘You sure? You look healthy as a horse.'
“But it got easier talking about it, letting more of my heart go. People were showing so much love.”
Bates wrote a letter explaining his situation and sent it to all of his friends and acquaintances in the swimming community. What he needed was a matching donor with a heart the size of Montana.
His sister Deandra offered, but was unable to help because she suffers from endometriosis. Brian Robinson, the husband of one of Bates' coaching assistants, also went through the long screening process only to find he was unsuitable because of an enzyme in his blood.
Bates had all but lost hope when Huckeby called in February.
“First I got a phone call from someone saying, ‘You have another donor. There's somebody else that has three out of six genetic markers in common with you,' ” Bates said. “From the literature they sent me I figured it had to be a family member. My head was spinning.”
Huckeby first learned of Bates' situation via e-mail in September. Her daughter, Rebecca, offered to be tested as a potential donor, but at age 17 was too young. Susan's 18-year-old daughter Sarah also volunteered, but was turned down because of an operation she underwent in her youth.
“I ended up talking to Lev a couple weeks later and he thought he had a donor,” Huckeby said. “Then that fell through, and I joked to him, ‘I can be your donor and we could be brother and sister forever.' ”
Susan Huckeby started the screening process in January and two months later she was in Seattle donating a kidney. She remembers feeling an uncommon sense of serenity in the hours leading up to the operation.
“They offer you something to calm your nerves, but there was just this feeling of absolute peace, an amazing sense that God was holding my hand,” she said. “I've had a lot of people calling me a hero, but I don't feel like a hero. I just knew I was doing the right thing.”
Huckeby was warned prior to the March 17 operation it would be tougher on her than Bates. A doctor would need to make five incisions on her and only one on Bates.
“The next day I was up and walking,” said Bates, who was in Seattle for three weeks. “My first thought was I have to go see Susan. Here I am walking in and she's either unconscious or throwing up.”
Huckeby had a hard time with the anesthesia. Then after the operation, she experienced numbness in one of her legs along with nausea and dizziness.
Yet, if given the opportunity to help Bates again, she wouldn't change a thing.
“It was all worth it to see Lev afterward with a huge smile on his face,” Susan said. “The change in him was amazing. I couldn't picture Lev on dialysis the rest of his life - a big active guy like that.”
Bates continues to adjust to his medical situation. At one point he appeared in trouble, then discovered milk was having an adverse affect on one of his medications.
He still feels as though he's hooked to a live wire. He was unable to sleep until his doctor added a sedative to his long list of medications. The past two weeks he's experienced marked improvement, exercising regularly and putting in hours at the office.
Lev does not consider himself “a hugely religious person.” But he believes Huckeby's act of generosity happened for a reason.
“Suddenly my sense of duty has quadrupled,” he said. “If I can do it, keep loving what I'm doing and teach these kids something, then ‘OK, Lord, this is what I'm going to do. I fought you for a long time. You taught me humility and a lot about sympathy from a lot of folks.' I think the gift of life is huge.”
Right under Huckeby on the list of those Bates feels indebted to are Missoula's James and Melanie Johnson, who watched the Bates' three children for three weeks. Lev and Mary Bates also have a deep appreciation for what the local community has done, raising more than $10,000 to defray his medical expenses.
Bates' efforts to give back are not exclusive to the swimming community. He and his wife have already adopted one child and are in the process of adopting two more.
“Hopefully I'm helping with the groundwork my grandfather laid for me,” he said.
Part of his continuing plan is to help young people understand there's more to African-Americans than “what they see on MTV with their hats crooked and pants halfway down.”
“When kids come up to me and say ‘Wassup man,' I say ‘My name is Lev. I like to be called by my name,' ” Bates said. “I just want to plant enough doubt in their heads that maybe what they're seeing on TV is not the case.
“I spent 6fi years as an L.A. County sheriff. Guys come in here (to the Y) flashing gang signs and I tell them how bad an idea that really is. I tell them, ‘If you really want to be a gangster, I'll pay and take you to L.A. to introduce you to some.' It's the wrong path.”
If it seems Bates is hyper-sensitive to the issue, it's because he's spent his share of time smashing stereotypes. He endured enough racism for a lifetime as an African-American swimmer in California.
Which is why he moved back to Missoula 20 years ago. And while he'll probably stay the rest of his life.
“I remember when I was little going to Franklin Elementary School and not being looked upon as different,” he said. “I'd go skiing, on the river, and there was no thought.
“I know my grandfather had issues. Like the time they were coming back from Eastern Washington from a football game and stopped in Coeur d'Alene and the restaurant wouldn't serve him. He just got up and went to a nearby hamburger stand. That was my grandfather, and that's me, too. It's about the other person.”
Fortunately for Lev Bates, Susan Huckeby feels the same. Together they'll continue to make splashes in Montana as a pair well-versed in compassion and the power of giving.
“I hope to do some speaking to encourage others to consider becoming a living kidney donor,” Huckeby said. “I would also like to talk some about diversity. I'm always amazed at how many people discriminate based on skin color. Under our skin, we're all the same color.
“I'm hoping Lev will join with me in speaking. I think we'd make a great duo.”
Sports writer Bill Speltz can be reached at 523-5255 or bill.speltz@lee.net.
If you wish to help Lev and Mary Bates with their medical bills, please do so in the form of a check written out to Lev Bates Benefit and send it to: Missoula Family YMCA, in care of Roger Miller, 3000 Russell St., Missoula, MT, 59801.
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