Claudette was single and pregnant. She felt hurt, angry and confused, so she made an appointment at Sacramento’s Alternatives Pregnancy Center.
In a region that can boast names like Teichert, Friedman and Tsakopoulos, some citizens think the call to give charitably rests outside their circle of responsibility. Not so for Sacramento’s newest philanthropists.
Bill Coibion’s commitment to transforming lives in his Del Paso Heights neighborhood began in the mid-1990s when he launched the nonprofit Shoulder to Shoulder. He had just become a Christian and felt called to encourage men to be “servant-leaders” at home, in church and in their communities.
Doug Pringle lost a leg to the Vietnam War in 1968. He was recovering at the Presidio of San Francisco hospital the day World War II veterans stopped by for a visit.
Earlier this year, most locals couldn’t help but overhear buzz about the launch of local eateries like The Red Rabbit and Pour House. Imagine that same tenor about contributing to local charities.
In 2001, a group of local businesswomen put their heads and dollars together, hoping to make an impact on the lives of Sacramento foster youth.
Samantha Smith was 13 when she first left home for the streets of Folsom. Living in and out of foster care, she was driven from homes by conflict and turbulence and returned only when in need of food or clothing.
The equation is easy to understand: A weak economy equals challenging business conditions equals reduced corporate support for nonprofits. Understandable, yes, but terribly unfortunate — and, I’m convinced, not particularly good business.
Ashley Coleman has wine in her blood. Great-granddaughter of winemaker Julio Gallo, she grew up tending grapes in the family vineyard and working at its winery in Livingston. She knew the family business would color her future, but she never dreamed she would use wine to drive social change.
Shane Snyder has been fighting his whole life. He is 46 years old and has Usher syndrome, a genetic disorder affecting hearing and vision.
Charities come in all sizes, dedicated to myriad causes, and generous donations to a small, do-good organization sometimes will make a big difference.
Doris Hobbs threw out the ceremonial first pitch at a Sacramento River Cats game. Harriet Antonides at last became a Girl Scout at age 100. And Mino Ohye, who hadn’t seen his beloved brother in 60 years, in January would fly to Japan for a reunion.
Juliana Espinoza was a bashful teenager until last summer when she began a year-long internship at Junior Achievement of Sacramento.
A teenage boy walks through dangerous gang territory to reach the train that will take him from his low-income neighborhood to a private high school in Sacramento where almost no one knows his story.
Monica Gonzalez recently logged onto the Facebook page of Weave Inc., an organization that treats survivors of domestic and sexual abuse, to post a simple message about how the nonprofit helped her overcome a nightmarish ordeal.
Each year, Rancho Cordova-based Vision Service Plan provides free, annual, comprehensive eye examinations and eyewear to 50,000 underserved children throughout the country.
At age 15, Erik Self sneaked into the home of a friend’s mother and, when she got out of bed to investigate the noise, stabbed her repeatedly with a survival knife. He was arrested and charged with attempted murder and burglary.
It’s been more than 10 years since Char Donnermeyer sat in a communitywide forum to determine which charitable cause needed her attention. The United Way had tapped Donnermeyer and two others to start a group that women around the region could rally behind.
Chloe Walker doesn’t remember the first time she moved or how many times she had to pack her belongings in flimsy trash bags. But she remembers getting her first suitcase at age 18, when she became too old for the foster system.
Between her 8th and 15th birthdays, Ashlee Rogers moved out of nearly a half-dozen foster homes. She was removed from her mother twice, and she floated all over El Dorado County, from Placerville to Pollock Pines and back.