http://www.cleveland.com/world/plaindealer/index.ssf?/xml/story.ssf/html_standard.xsl?
/base/news/103631946434480.xml
11/03/02
Stephen Hudak and John F. Hagan Plain Dealer Reporters
The first generation of asbestos victims in northeast Ohio was
shipbuilders, pipefitters and construction workers. Its latest generation comes from all
walks of life.
FRED SCHMIDT
Age: 65
A grandfather and a steel sculptor, whose works brighten lobbies of
banks and, coincidentally, the Ireland Cancer Center, Schmidt hoped he'd live long enough
to see justice. But his cancer moved faster than his case against the companies whose
products were suspected of causing it. Schmidt was still alive when his wife, Jane, took
the stand last year in Cuyahoga County Common Pleas Court. "He can hardly
breathe," she testified. "He knows he's suffocating and he knows he's
dying." Before she was done, he was dead. The judge declared a mistrial.
DEBORAH HAMMOND
Age: 44
Hammond never found out where she met her killer. "I was too
busy trying to figure out how to beat it to figure out how she got it," said Rex
Hammond, who had been her sweetheart since the fifth grade. Deborah died four months after
she was diagnosed with mesothelioma. Her aunt, Ruth Forrider, died a year later of the
same disease. Family members suspect both were exposed to asbestos secondhand. Deborah's
father and Ruth's husband were brothers who worked as railroad mechanics in Lorain County,
fixing train cars amid asbestos dust.
SISTER ALICE MARIE PAGAC
Age: 68
Nothing in a 47-year career in Catholic education ever pulled her
out of the classroom until mesothelioma did. She taught second-graders in parochial
schools across Northeast Ohio. The Vincentian Sisters of Charity in Bedford aren't certain
where she could have inhaled asbestos. "She was cheerful to the last," said her
sister Mary Catherine Pagac, also a nun. "But it must have been so very painful to
make her give up her little kids."
CARL OLLICK
Age: 61
Ollick was certain of one thing: he would outlast his wife. For 30
years, Theresa Ollick suffered from crippling rheumatoid arthritis and her husband, an
aerospace engineer at NASA in Brook Park, was her nurse. To keep fit, he played softball
and wore out rowing machines. Suddenly in 1999, he felt weak and winded after mowing the
lawn. Doctors said his right lung was encased in tumors that lawyers blamed on asbestos he
inhaled at work or possibly while serving in the Coast Guard. "It's a helpless
feeling," said his son, Michael. "You always picture your dad as a strong man
and I saw him withering away." Five weeks after Carl Ollick passed away, his wife
died.