SPECIAL THANKS FOR SOME SPECIAL PEOPLE.

Byline: DENNIS McCARTHY 

We've met some wonderful people in this column this past year -- people who have opened their lives to us and touched our minds and hearts with their stories.

People who deserve our thanks on this Thanksgiving.

We met Nick Heukrodt, a young man with Down syndrome, and his best friend, Ben Wolfson, who is autistic. The two met when they were 8. Now, they're 22, still best friends and earlier this year getting ready for their senior prom at Miller High, a special-education school in Reseda.

When Nick's parents asked their son who he wanted to take to the prom, there was only one girl he would even consider: Ashley Mee, a pretty, California State University, Northridge, coed living down the street.

No parent wants to see their child's heart broken, so it was with a lot of anxiety that Alan Heukrodt walked his son over to Ashley's house.

Carrying a bouquet of flowers, Nick knocked on Ashley's front door and asked his dream date if she would go to the prom with him.

When she said yes, Alan swore Nick's feet never touched the sidewalk on the way home.

We met an incredible man named Arthur Winston, who finally retired at age 100 after spending 73 years at one job: cleaning city streetcars, and then city buses, when the streetcars died.

Arthur always wanted to drive those street cars and buses, but African- Americans weren't hired for those choice jobs back in the 1930s.

When we talked on the eve of his retirement, Arthur couldn't understand what all the fuss was about -- him working until 100. ``I'm no doctor or lawyer. I'm just an old bus-maintenance man. Nothin' special.''

Wrong, Arthur. You were someone very special. Winston died a month after he retired.

We met Sam Flores, a master karate teacher who fears no man. But Cole Massie, an 8-year-old boy with cerebral palsy, brought the tough guy to his knees.

Sam didn't think he could teach karate to this boy in a wheelchair who begged to be allowed to join Sam's class.

He tried to find an excuse, Sam admitted. He told Cole's mom, Michelle, that his classes were on the third floor at the Glendale YMCA and that the elevator only went to the second floor.

Her son wouldn't be able to make it up that last flight of stairs -- 16 steps -- in his wheelchair. Sorry.

``If you'll take him, I'll carry him up those steps myself,'' Michelle told him.

Cole told his mom he wanted to get to his lessons a half-hour early so he had time to wrap both arms around the handrail and inch his way up those last 16 steps himself to make it on time.

``It used to break my heart watching him, but now I only feel pride and respect for Cole,'' Sam said. ``Teaching that little boy karate has been the most rewarding thing I have ever done.''

We met another who could have been Cole's brother when it comes to heart. An 11-year-old autistic boy named Kevin Livas-Hastings.

There were 25 students vying for the school spelling bee championship at Oxnard Street Elementary School in North Hollywood in June -- but only one winner.

The only special-education student in Arlene Delaney's fifth-grade class: Kevin Livas-Hastings. School champ.

We met Northridge mom Chris Williams. Her kids got her a professional leaf blower for Mother's Day and a new weed trimmer for her birthday.

For the past 15 years, every Saturday, Chris has taken to her neighborhood streets to whack weeds and pick up the trash others leave behind.

We met Clarence Riley, who arrives for work at 5:30a.m. at Noble Avenue Elementary School in North Hills to make sure everything is ready for the 1,600 students.

The 49-year-old father of four has been the plant manager there for 21 years. He's the guy we used to call the janitor until the title got upgraded years ago when people finally began to figure out that the janitor was just as important -- if not more so -- than many high-paid administrators with fancy titles.

We met Theoplas Forsett -- aka the Vampire -- working at the Red Cross office. The Vampire spends his day on the phone asking for your blood.

``It's sad, but people in Southern California are just too busy, even to help save a life,'' he said, listening to another tell him he didn't have the time to donate blood.

We met Jackie Colleran, a 65-year-old retired school nurse from Thousand Oaks, riding on the Rose Parade's ``Life Transformed'' float.

There may have been more elaborate floats, but none decorated with more love than the one carrying Jackie and other organ transplant recipients.

She carried an 8-by-10 picture of Wade Schoenhals of Amarillo, Texas, who had been killed in a motorcycle crash when he was 37. Before he died, Wade had arranged to donate his healthy organs to help keep four others alive. Jackie received Wade's liver.

And, finally, we shared a laugh with 80-year-old Dorothy Delmonte during her bat mitzvah ceremony -- 67 years late -- at the Jewish Home for the Aging.

``Religion was never, ever mentioned in my home growing up,'' she said. ``My father was an atheist, and I think a communist, too.''

Depending on where he is right now, he would be either very disappointed in his only daughter, or understand that, at 80, she was just trying to cover her bets, Dorothy said.

To all the people who opened their lives and shared their stories with us this year, Happy Thanksgiving.

dennis.mccarthy(at)dailynews.com

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CAPTION(S):

3 photos

Photo:

(1) Arthur Winston, a maintenance worker for the MTA, retired at age 100 after 73 years at one job.

John Lazar/Staff Photographer

(2) Nick Heukrodt and Ashley Mee get ready to leave for the prom.

(3) Karate instructor Sam Flores is shown with his student Cole Massie, 8, at the Glendale YMCA. Despite having cerebral palsy, Cole has received his yellow belt and is trying to go all the way to get his black belt.

Alex Collins/Special to the Daily News