I’m not sure how it all started, but somehow, Siena Heights University became a family tradition. My mother, Norma Boxrud Lapham, studied art at Siena in the mid-1950s before she married my father. Growing up, we’d often drive past the campus, with its stately red brick buildings and cupolas and I dreamed of going to school there, too.
Eventually, four of my seven siblings would seek Siena degrees: Mary Catherine Lapham, ’85, Lisa Lapham Huested, ’87; Anne Lapham Micol, ’99, and John Lapham, ’00.
In the fall of 1980, just months after my Siena graduation, my sister, Catherine, started her freshman year. An excellent student, she majored in business and computers — the latter was something pretty new at Siena in those days.
But, in 1982, Catherine developed Friedreich’s Ataxia, a slow progressive disorder of the nervous system and muscles. A genetic disease, FA results in the inability to coordinate voluntary muscle movements. This ataxia is caused by the degeneration of nerve tissue in the spinal cord and of nerves that extend to the arms and legs. Our sister, Carol, also suffered with FA and died from complications of the disease in 2002.
As a student, Catherine consistently gave 110 percent to academics. When she found she had FA, she was determined to do everything in her power to fight it. Late in 1983, she underwent a grueling back surgery at the University of Michigan. Two titanium rods were attached to the vertebrae in her spinal column and ratcheted to straighten her spine. Temporary paralysis and months of therapy followed.
Back at Siena, Catherine threw herself into her studies. The surgery and subsequent recovery proved to be a setback for her academically — it would add a year to her college career. But it proved to be one well-spent as she had her pick of job offers right out of school.
By the time she graduated in May 1985, I had been an adjunct faculty member at Siena more that two years. Catherine wanted me involved somehow in her graduation day and invited me to place the baccalaureate hood on her shoulders after she received her diploma during the annual commencement ceremony. As I watched her walk toward me with the aid of a wheeled walker, straight and tall, her steps measured and strong, I marveled at her strength and determination to overcome her physical disabilities and graduate.
Twenty years later, she’s still full of gritty determination, even as this debilitating disease takes its toll. She has made her home in St. Louis for more than 15 years and recently retired from Electronic Data Systems. She’s active in her parish, works with a number of nonprofit groups like PAWS and with support groups for people affected by FA.
She continues to inspire me with her strength, despite the adversity of her daily life, and shows me always there is much more to a Siena education than what is learned from textbooks and the classroom. Perhaps St. Catherine of Siena said it best when she wrote, “Nothing great is ever achieved without much enduring.”
Eventually, four of my seven siblings would seek Siena degrees: Mary Catherine Lapham, ’85, Lisa Lapham Huested, ’87; Anne Lapham Micol, ’99, and John Lapham, ’00.
In the fall of 1980, just months after my Siena graduation, my sister, Catherine, started her freshman year. An excellent student, she majored in business and computers — the latter was something pretty new at Siena in those days.
But, in 1982, Catherine developed Friedreich’s Ataxia, a slow progressive disorder of the nervous system and muscles. A genetic disease, FA results in the inability to coordinate voluntary muscle movements. This ataxia is caused by the degeneration of nerve tissue in the spinal cord and of nerves that extend to the arms and legs. Our sister, Carol, also suffered with FA and died from complications of the disease in 2002.
As a student, Catherine consistently gave 110 percent to academics. When she found she had FA, she was determined to do everything in her power to fight it. Late in 1983, she underwent a grueling back surgery at the University of Michigan. Two titanium rods were attached to the vertebrae in her spinal column and ratcheted to straighten her spine. Temporary paralysis and months of therapy followed.
Back at Siena, Catherine threw herself into her studies. The surgery and subsequent recovery proved to be a setback for her academically — it would add a year to her college career. But it proved to be one well-spent as she had her pick of job offers right out of school.
By the time she graduated in May 1985, I had been an adjunct faculty member at Siena more that two years. Catherine wanted me involved somehow in her graduation day and invited me to place the baccalaureate hood on her shoulders after she received her diploma during the annual commencement ceremony. As I watched her walk toward me with the aid of a wheeled walker, straight and tall, her steps measured and strong, I marveled at her strength and determination to overcome her physical disabilities and graduate.
Twenty years later, she’s still full of gritty determination, even as this debilitating disease takes its toll. She has made her home in St. Louis for more than 15 years and recently retired from Electronic Data Systems. She’s active in her parish, works with a number of nonprofit groups like PAWS and with support groups for people affected by FA.
She continues to inspire me with her strength, despite the adversity of her daily life, and shows me always there is much more to a Siena education than what is learned from textbooks and the classroom. Perhaps St. Catherine of Siena said it best when she wrote, “Nothing great is ever achieved without much enduring.”
First published Oct. 19, 2006
Mary Catherine Lapham receives her bachelor of arts degree from Siena Heights University in May 1985. Sr. Sharon Weber and Audrey Parker help keep her steady as her sister Renee Lapham Collins, adjunct faculty in the English Department at the time, places the academic hood on her shoulders.
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