Big-hearted jailbirds raise money for Muscular Dystrophy Association

Oakland Tribune, Sep 25, 2008 by Daniel Powell

BURLINGAME -- Two women wearing black-and-white striped prison outfits stepped past a table laden with mushroom-smothered polenta and eggplant finger sandwiches and presented themselves to a judge Thursday.

He sternly ordered them to state their names, then ran down a list of charges and asked both for their plea.

"Guilty," they replied meekly.

"Guilty as charged!" The judge slammed down his mallet with such force that it flew out of his hand. Then his dad came over and gave him a sip of iced tea.

Anka Tosun, 11, skipped school Thursday to preside over the courtroom. His voice grew righteously loud as he imposed sentences. Three people at a small table sat in front of adding machines, tabulating the fines collected so far -- about $16,000.

Tosun describes himself as "the meanest judge you could ever hire," but Thursday he was working pro bono. The sixth-grader, diagnosed with muscular dystrophy and a wheelchair-user, was at Il Fornaio restaurant in Burlingame, helping raise funds to send other kids like him to summer camp at Westminster Woods in Sonoma County.

Organized by the Muscular Dystrophy Association, the Lock-Up sniffed out citizens "accused of possessing big hearts" and put them behind literal, if flimsy, bars. Prisoners were released when they made "bail" -- $1,600, enough to send two kids to camp.

"I've been judge since 2007," Tosun said. "It's pretty fun. I like to do this because we send kids to camp."

Tosun is a "goodwill ambassador" for the association.

"The worst of the worst -- public corruption," announced Burlingame Chief of Police Jack Van Etten, as he walked into the room accompanied by a handcuffed Don Dornell, Central County fire chief. He opened the handcuffs and watched with undisguised glee as Dornell put on the jailbird stripes. "That's a uniform I like to see him in. Finally, justice has prevailed!"

"We've had a running battle for years," Dornell says of Van Etten. "He jumped at the chance to do this."

Aside from personally raising $1,600 for the Lock-Up, Dornell said the Central County Fire Department raised $9,200. Off-duty firefighters solicited the funds in four-and-a-half hours out on the streets, holding out their empty boots for donations.

Two years ago, the department sent some firefighters up to the camp with a reserve fire engine. The experience was so positive, Dornell said, they did it again the next year.

"They came back saying it really touched them. Talking to the kids, interacting with them, letting them spray the hose."

Van Etten volunteered his time Thursday to go with officers from the San Mateo County Sheriff's Office and "arrest" the donors. Aside from picking up wayward fire chiefs and turning a blind eye to Tosun's truancy, his officers paraded a steady stream of civilian offenders in front of the judge.

Mary Bates, a volunteer with the American Red Cross, brought in $3000, the largest individual donation of the day.

"Our goal was to send two kids to camp," she said. "But I have four daughters, and we talked about it and decided we should double it."

For Tosun, more money pledged means more friends at camp.

"I've been going there for five years, and I'm really popular there," he said.

The camp, to hear Tosun describe it, consists of little more than swimming and ambushing other kids and counselors with water balloons.

"Its heaven, its beautiful there," said Tosun's father, Aleks. He said the family tried to visit but "Anka didn't want us there, so he kicked us out."

Tosun currently attends Bowditch Middle School in Foster City but is appealing to the district to transfer to Ralston Middle School in Belmont, where most of the kids he grew up with attend.

"The reason is mainly psychological because the kids grew up knowing him," Tosun's father said. "He was like any other kid. There was some kind of beautiful bonding going on."

His family has found some of that sense of community among the people working and volunteering for the Muscular Dystrophy Association.

"They're like an extended family for us -- like brothers and sisters," Aleks said. "Anka is a very smart kid, so he's got questions for people. You feel they really care about your child."