It was going to be a tough day for Deborah Owens.
As member of the Ohio State Board of Education, she had worked on a measure to change the way public schools taught the theory of evolution by forcing students to critically analyze aspects of the scientific theory.
Opponents claimed it was just a push to get intelligent design in the classroom. The issue was up for a vote, and Owens was nervous. But during the meeting, she looked up and was surprised to see her good friend Brenda Unruh in the audience.
The Common Pleas Court judge from Summit County had driven from Akron to Columbus, a four-hour round trip, to be there for her friend.
“She didn’t tell me she was coming,” Owens says. “She knew how stressful it was for me. She just wanted to be there for me.”
Talk to enough of Burnham Unruh’s friends, and they all have similar stories. One friend was having a double-kidney and pancreas transplant. Unruh, again without telling anyone, drove to Columbus to sit with the woman after the surgery.
And then there’s the story of Christina LaPointe, a recovering drug addict and former prostitute whose face was disfigured after being shot in 2006. LaPointe appeared in Unruh’s court less than two months after on charges of credit card fraud.
Over the course of three years, LaPointe found herself in and out of Unruh’s courtroom. She sent LaPointe to the Ohio Reformatory for Women in Marysville with the promise that if LaPointe could clean up her life and stay drug free for one year outside prison walls, the judge would arrange for a plastic surgeon to repair her face for free. “I would not budge from her remaining sober for a year,” Unruh says.
It was’t easy, but LaPointe eventually got the message. In April 2009, Dr. Douglas Wagner performed the surgery. Now the former prisoner stays in contact with the judge, leaning on her for support. “It hasn’t been without its struggles,” Unruh says. “She has her ups and downs, but she works at it.”
She adds that LaPointe is just one of many women she has seen show up in court with no sense of self-worth.
“Women are beaten up by the court system as well as at home,” Unruh says. “I remember so many women who couldn’t even lift their head up to look at the judge. They just felt like they weren’t worth anything.”
Despite her compassionate approach — friends call her the Velvet Fist — those who come before her know they won’t get an easy sentence. Unruh says she can be caring while still dishing out appropriate punishment.
“My job is not as a social worker,” she says. “I represent an entire community. There are a lot of resources that I have. But there are going to be consequences.”
Sharon Horning, manager of business development at Hitchcock, Fleming & Associates marketing firm and Unruh’s friend of 10 years, says it’s that approach that she admires most.
“She guides people when it comes to making decisions,” Horning says. “She doesn’t always give you all the answers, but she guides people and gives the support and hope.”
Now, though, Unruh is leaning on her friends for support. In May 2009, she learned she had colon cancer. She has been receiving chemotherapy in Cleveland, Akron and at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York City for the past year, with no end in sight.
“It’s been a very tough journey,” Burnham Unruh says.
Fighting a disease like cancer shows the true character of a person. Owens says she was not surprised that Unruh hasn’t changed one bit.
“Going through something like this exposes in a raw sense what truly are your priorities in life,” Owens says, “and Brenda has kept the same priorities.”
That includes going to work every day, except for when she receives chemotherapy treatments in New York.
She’s also doing charitable work, albeit not nearly as much as she used to, and spending a lot of time with her family. Burnham Unruh has been married to Robert Unruh for 25 years and has two children, Bradley, 23, and Brittany, 20.
“Most mornings I would like to stay in bed,” she says. “[Going to work] helps me to get up and get dressed and feel normal and conduct my work. It really has helped me keep my mind off of thinking about fighting cancer.”