Family Avoids A Shutout -- Kruegers Confront Daughter's Autism With Innovation, Hope

Chanel Krueger never grew tired of her mother reading to her, book after book. She knew them so well she could recite passages.

She would dance through the house singing her ABCs, and her vocabulary grew almost daily. The beautiful, dark-haired, doe-eyed little girl had all the curiosity, energy and impishness of any toddler.

At about 18 months old, however, Chanel suddenly began saying "Marney" instead of "Mommy." Her parents were concerned.

"Did you hear that?" her mother, Jo, remembers asking Chanel's baby-sitter. "I figured Barney (the dinosaur) and Marney, they sound alike. Then she was saying `wa, wa' when she used to say `more water please.' She would be trying so hard to talk, and it wouldn't come out."

It was the first indication that something was terribly wrong with Chanel. A two-year medical odyssey began to try to find the source of her problem. The Kruegers' lives would never be the same.

Words Chanel had pronounced clearly became mere mumbles. By the time she was 2, gestures replaced speech. Her attention span was almost nil. She became so willful and stubborn she couldn't be taken anywhere without a fight or without her constantly trying to escape. She couldn't feel pain but became highly agitated when she was touched or lotion or bandage was applied to her skin.

Her parents could call her name 100 times and she wouldn't even turn around. She shut them out. She had shut out the world.

"It was almost like someone came in the middle of the night and took our child," said her father, Bill, the former Mariner pitcher who is now a part-time broadcaster for the team.

Jo added, "She went from speaking and a very intelligent little 2-year-old to a girl who was (developmentally) an 11-month-old. This is not my child. Where is the child I could sit and read 50 books to? Now I'm lucky if we can get through one. How did we go from that to this?"

Solving the puzzle

Perhaps it was a brain tumor, they were told. Maybe she had a hearing problem, a stroke, a bad fever or had swallowed a harmful solution. Doctors didn't know. Friends and family suggested it was just a stage she was going through. Leave her alone; she'll be fine, they said.

But Bill and Jo knew she wasn't going to be fine, and they would never leave her alone. In fact, leaving her alone, they came to realize, only contributed to her descent into darkness.

In the spring of 1996, after nearly two years of examinations and tests, it was finally determined that Chanel had autism, a developmental disability in which the child withdraws into a self-absorbed world apart from reality.

It afflicts one child in 500 in the United States - mostly boys - and has no known cause or cure. Chanel and 400,000 other youngsters across the country will be autistic all their lives.

"Chanel is at the better end of the scale," Jo said.

One significant reason for that is the marvelous interventional role of Chanel's parents, making sure they maintained emotional and physical contact with their only child.

The Kruegers will tell their story and offer perspectives on how they deal with their autistic daughter during a CAN (Cure Autism Now) fund-raising banquet June 20 at the Westin Hotel. The event, which will raise money for research, was organized by the Kruegers.

The price of constant care

Jo shouldered much of Chanel's early concerns and behavioral problems because Bill still was pursuing his big-league pitching career, spending weeks away on road trips or at spring training. He played with 10 teams, including two only in training camp, during his 14-year career and finally made significant money at the end.

His final experience was 1996 spring training with the Chicago Cubs, in which he had two horrendous outings and was cut quickly. What followed was alarming.

As the family was flying to Seattle, Chanel, who can't filter noise, became so agitated she screamed uncontrollably the entire flight. Passengers shot looks at the Kruegers that said "Can't you control your child?" Chanel bit her father's cheek, causing blood to stream down his face.

"What happened with baseball was heaven sent," Bill said. "It was over, and as soon as we came home we found out she was autistic, and we knew what we had to do. It was time for her to be stable and (for us to) find out what we had to do for her."

What makes the Kruegers unique is that Bill, now 40, had made enough money so they could provide a safe home in Woodinville and 24-hour devotion. Bill and Jo went to everything together - doctor's appointments, tests, therapy sessions. They wanted to know everything about the disorder and any intervention they could use.

Keeping Chanel engaged

"(Autistic kids) don't want to go to school, the grocery store. They don't want to go in public," Jo said. "They want to stay here at home. It's where she feels comfortable."

Jo wouldn't allow it, taking Chanel out whenever possible, trying to keep her engaged to the outside world.

"I would not let her off to her own world," Jo said.

The Kruegers also repeatedly encouraged Chanel to introduce herself to people and be outgoing.

Breaking through

Their patience and hard work began to pay off. The painfully shy and distracted girl, who once played only on the periphery of playgrounds, gradually integrated and played with other children.

"The way she has reached out really touches you," Bill said.

The Kruegers also use a picture-image system that gives Chanel symbols to get across her message. The phone-book-sized volume includes pictures of everything from food to playground equipment to cars.

Chanel, now 5 1/2, hates to wait in line, so at the grocery store, Jo holds up a picture of people standing in line to prepare her. It seems to calm her. Chanel also uses the pictures at restaurants and in their kitchen to order what she wants to eat.

"It organizes her thoughts. What they see is what they think," Jo said. "We don't want to rely on them, but it helps tremendously."

Remarkable memory

A few people afflicted with autism can have a slice of extraordinary talent. Dustin Hoffman's character in the movie "Rain Man" had incredible mathematical ability. Chanel's memory borders on remarkable. The Kruegers remember the time a doctor lined up 50 magnets on a table then took them all away. Chanel put them all back

in the same order.

She also organizes her toys perfectly, either by size or color, and knows immediately if anything has been altered. Chanel watches movies constantly, memorizing dialogue and using phrases in her own conversations.

Chanel, who makes eye contact and has had much of her speech restored, attends one of two schools in Washington that deal with autistic children. Her mother wants her to attend a regular school next fall.

"Our ultimate goal is to have her function on her own without the help of an adult. A good 80 percent of these kids have to be in a home," Jo said. "She's an example of what can be accomplished. I don't know why she responded, but the bottom line is she's (still) an autistic child."