Forum: Marshall Booker’s hidden greatness
Published 1:30 am Saturday, September 5, 2026
I want to tell a story intended to honor a man whose kindness, strong character, amazing intellect, and passion for doing good changed our lives.
I have a son with Down Syndrome. No one knew what challenges lay ahead when he was born. The only hint lay in the words of our obstetrician in 1993: “This may be the last time I ask this,” he said, “ but do you want to give him up?” “Of course not,” I said as I sat in the bed, holding him just after my delivery, but the fact that the question was asked woke me up to the realities that lay ahead. The truth of the matter is, then, in addition to lots of intense love, I would need boxing gloves. Now, I assure you that boxing gloves were unnecessary for anyone in our intermediate family or neighborhood. They would regularly be necessary when dealing with the medical profession and school systems.
This writing is not meant to tell the story of Ike’s life but to wrap our arms around and sincerely thank one gentleman who defied the norm. And, oh no, boxing gloves were not necessary in this story, only the humbling awareness that there are great people out there who see people with disabilities as capable.
The gentleman recently passed away, and I regret not sharing these words with him, though we stayed in regular communication. This story is the story of hidden greatness. Marshall Booker’s hidden greatness.
He lived in Snohomish, Washington, and became a strong supporter and advocate for our son.
Ike had just graduated from Snohomish High School when he turned to me one day and said, “Mom, I want to go to college like my brothers.” With the help of a fantastic website called thinkcollege.net, we discovered that there are actually colleges in the United States that take students with intellectual disabilities. We applied to every college and spent an entire year interviewing at every one that could take Ike. We found one! The University of North Carolina at Greensboro had a program called Beyond Academics, and Ike was accepted. The only problem was funding. Soon after returning home from the in-person interview and being accepted, a friend told me I could apply for a scholarship for Ike through the Snohomish Education Foundation. I immediately did so!
The next problem we encountered was that the scholarship I was applying for was for typical students applying to become special education teachers. We applied anyway. I immediately heard back from the scholarship donor, Marshall Booker, that he would like to provide Ike with the scholarship, even though Ike’s studies were not associated with becoming a teacher. Ike just wanted to be a full-time student.
What happened next is the most amazing part of the story. Marshall called and said that he would like to pay for Isaac’s education at the University of North Carolina by providing a generous monthly amount and, in addition, pay for most, if not all, of his airline flights between Washington and North Carolina for the next four years.
We were blown away! This meant that Ike could attend the four-year program at the University of North Carolina!
Wait. What? Who does this? Contrary to our previous 21 years of experience, Marshall was the first person who thought Ike was worth the expenditure. Marshall believed that Ike and other students with disabilities were whole, capable people. Marshall saw Isaac as an undiscovered bundle of possibilities and unique strengths that, given the opportunity, could develop into a strong, independent, contributing member of society. That was a first! No one in our immediate circle of family and friends, no one in the medical profession, and certainly no one in the public school system had ever had such a thought.
But Marshall, in his calm, kind, and determined way, said yes. Let’s do this!
Marshall saw the person first before he saw the disability! He loved being with Ike. He didn’t tolerate him; he loved him. He didn’t put up with his uniqueness. He savored it! He believed in him. His view of Ike and the other students with intellectual disabilities was that they were simply people. People who carried with them a profoundly different way of seeing and participating in the world.
We would occasionally meet him for breakfast on Saturday at our favorite diner in town when Ike was home on breaks from college, and the two of them would laugh together as friends do. They would do fun and silly things like beat out music rhythms on the table as they waited for their eggs and hash browns.
Inevitably, Marshall would pull into the parking lot of our hometown diner in his 20-year-old, worn-out sedan. He’d chuckle and get a big grin when he saw Ike waiting for him at the breakfast table. Marshall epitomized the Greatest Generation: strong, humble, sweet, and with a hand out to give rather than receive. He said he did not want to advertise what he was doing for Ike. He didn’t want accolades, banners, or marching bands. He just wanted to make a difference in the life of a young man who might never have walked on a college campus or received a diploma. Thanks to Marshall, Ike graduated from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro on May 8th, 2019.
We miss you, Marshall! We miss your example. We miss knowing that people like you still exist. Thank you for the chance to know you, learn from you, and watch you in action. We will always hold your example in our hearts and do everything we can to follow your example!
Ike and Kay Ditzenberger live in Snohomish.
