Climbing for dad

Climbing for dad

Siblings Amy and Dr. Chris Bucciarelli took to Africa’s highest peak to honor their father, Dr. Richard Bucciarelli.

By April Frawley Lacey
Sat phone

Amy and Dr. Chris Bucciarelli

They climbed the final steps toward the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro arm in arm, big sister and little brother, each holding onto a piece of a Gator flag emblazoned with dozens of names.

John, Matthew, Linda, Rick …


Tears welled in her eyes as Amy Bucciarelli, M.S., ATR-BC, LMHC, reached the summit, the highest peak in Africa, with her brother, Chris Bucciarelli, M.D. Around them, dawn broke, sunlight escaping over the horizon. They had been waiting for this moment for months, ever since Amy, an art therapist for UF Health Shands Arts in Medicine, had proposed the idea of participating in the Climb For Cancer Foundation’s annual climb as a tribute to their father and to raise funds to combat the disease threatening his life.

Their father, Richard “Rick” Bucciarelli, M.D., a longtime faculty member in the department of pediatrics division of neonatology and former chair of the College of Medicine department of pediatrics, was diagnosed with an aggressive form of melanoma two years ago. After initial surgery and therapy two years ago, he relapsed last year.

Amy, who works with cancer patients as an art therapist, heard about the climb last year from Barbara Bour, a former physical therapist who worked with childhood cancer patients at the UF Health Cancer Center. Although Amy had never climbed a mountain before — or even camped — the idea appealed to her. Her dad often took her to a mountain in Utah to hike when she was little, before the family moved to Gainesville, and she liked the idea of raising money for the foundation, which uses its funds to directly support patient needs at UF Health Shands Hospital as well as cancer research projects.

“Last summer, he relapsed pretty significantly. I experienced this feeling of sheer helplessness,” Amy said. “I help people every day, but I felt like there was nothing I could do to help my dad. A lot of patients directly benefit from the Climb for Cancer Foundation. I physically see what it is doing to help those families. (So I decided) I am going to climb a mountain for my dad. That is what I am going to do.”

Amy signed up to go on the climb, a part of which included raising at least $25,000 for the foundation. Although not sure initially if he could go because of his busy schedule as chief resident of emergency medicine at UF, Chris signed up too.

“After I told my dad, it became very meaningful for everyone in our family,” Amy said.

With the support of friends and family, Amy and Chris raised $28,000 for the Climb for Cancer Foundation while preparing for the climb. The approaching trip also changed how the family handled what they were going through. Since Rick’s diagnosis, the family had kept much of their struggles to themselves. But preparing for the climb gave them reason to open up to more people, resulting in what Amy described as an “outpouring of support.”

“People not only shared their financial support and emotional support, but also they shared their own personal stories. It was this community that was built around this experience,” she said. “When we did the actual climb, it felt like we had hundreds of people behind us.”

In July with five other members of a Gainesville team, Amy and Chris left for Mount Kilimanjaro. It took five-and-a-half days to make it to the summit.

Considering the trip was meant to be a tribute to their father, it’s fitting they spent much of the second day’s hike taking care of people. One of their fellow hikers grew ill the second day, and as a physician, Chris stayed with him. Amy played the role of motivator, helping to keep them going until they could get the man to safety.

On the third day, they made it over the clouds.

“It was a surreal view,” Chris said. “You wake up and look down and see clouds. It looks like a sea of white.”

As they climbed further up the mountain, the landscape changed, trees and vegetation fading away into a barren, desert landscape. To Chris, it felt like stepping onto the surface of Mars.

SummitThe day of the summit, they left camp at 11 p.m., aiming to reach the summit by dawn. By the time they saw the signs for the highest point, Amy teared up, realizing how close they were to their goal and thinking about all the emotion behind it.

“In that moment I was overwhelmed with making it to the top, the air was already thin. It made it even more difficult to breathe when I started to cry.”

Her brother took her arm to support her, and together, they walked the remaining 50 yards to the summit.

Initially, their father was thinking of flying to Africa to meet them at the bottom of the mountain, but his health was not strong enough. Instead, Amy and Chris called him and their mother from a satellite phone.

Their father chronicled the moment on his blog, writing, “At 12:12 am. EDT via satellite phone one of the most welcomed sounds we have heard in a long time! ‘We’re are on the top!’ ‘The view is spectacular!’ ‘We feel terrific!’ It was wonderful to hear their voices from half a world away and know they have hit the mark and are safe.”

The trip has brought the already close family even closer together.

“He was really touched by it,” Chris said. “I think for him it was like a grand gesture. My sister was the one who raised all the money, that showed my dad how much we care and how much this community cares and all the love and support we have from our friends and family.”