By Paula Day

Barbara Biello is slowly rebuilding a family life after a robber's bullets last April left her husband, an Atlanta police officer, paralyzed. With faith and courage she is doing it, supported by caring people -- from her parish and other churches, and the metro Atlanta community.

Mrs. Biello, her husband J. J. Biello and their two sons, Alex, 11, and Ross, 8, are members of St. Catherine of Siena Church in Kennesaw.

A July 19 benefit held in Piedmont Park in Atlanta that drew crowds estimated at 35,000 is one example of the support she has received. Donations from the benefit for her husband and other paralyzed Atlanta officer, Richard Williams, are in excess of $275,000, according to John Bogino, one of the organizers.

The 36-year-old Biello was shot three times by a robber April 15 as he worked an off-duty job as security guard at Provino's Restaurant on Roswell Road. The high cervical injury left him paralyzed from the neck down. Surgical damage to his vocal chords left him able to speak only in a whisper.

Barbara Biello admits she prayed that the Piedmont Park benefit would be a success. She recognized that the people who were working on it were "unsung heroes."

"You know, God," she recalls praying, "these people have worked so hard. Don't let their good work be for nothing. Let it be a success for them. Show them what they can do so they can feel good about their effort."

This concern for and appreciation of the unnumbered and unrecognized persons who have given moral and material support to the family permeates Barbara Biello's conversation.

"I want to tell them -- encourage them -- those who say to themselves, 'Gee, that (the paralyzed officers' condition) really makes me feel bad -- I wish I could help but I can't do enough for it to matter. (They) need to know it helps more than they know -- that card, that letter -- really helps."

She recalls a recent situation where those evaluating the family's "dream home," built by her husband, suggested that the family move. Renovations to make the house accessible to her wheelchair-bound husband would be too costly. She remembers feeling still another spasm of despair and them opening some mail that "came at the right moment" giving support and encouragement. And once more she said, "Thank you, God, for these people."

While Barbara Biello does have her down moments, despair about the future does not dominate her existence. During her daily visits with her husband at the Shepherd Spinal Center she has met other quadriplegics -- a six-year-old, for example, who is permanently dependent upon a respirator; a 10-year-old, paralyzed in an accident on a three-wheeler.

"Maybe we'll learn to live with this," she says, "but these kids -- not these kids -- they'll never learn to live with this. It breaks my heart."

And so -- "My next project is to help with research -- help all these people." She acknowledges that the Shepherd Center is "a fine place. They've worked out life in a wheelchair -- given a lot of options." But she is hoping for more. She is hoping for "cure, not care." She believes that a nation which could create the technology to send a man to the moon could surely develop ways to help people with spinal cord injuries.

Mrs. Biello finds research in this area exciting. One of the more publicized and hopeful of these research activities is in the use of computers to substitute nerve messages to the muscles and tendons. Another, with possible moral and ethical ramifications, is the use of embryo brain tissue to regenerate damaged nerve cells. However, she asks: "If in five or ten years there is a cure, will your (her husband's) body be ready for it?"

Complications from paralysis can be extensive. Inactive muscles and bones deteriorate and this deterioration affects most of the body's life-sustaining systems. Daily physical therapy is essential and Mrs. Biello is hoping to purchase innovative computer exercise equipment for her husband's rehabilitation. She says she has been assured that funds for his future rehabilitation will be available.

Barbara Biello is quick to say that "the city (of Atlanta) has been great" helping with medical bills and other necessities. Fellow police officers have gone out of their way to help, as have neighbors, acquaintances and other community members. She acknowledges that, at first, it was hard to accept help. She came to realize that the help was "like a circle -- a ripple that grows larger and larger. It brought out the good in so many people. You have to let God use you and that lets lots of people be examples of real love and giving."

She is grateful to her pastor, Father Leo Herbert who was by her side that Wednesday night in April and the following days of Holy Weeks even though he was short-handed during the busiest of liturgical seasons. She is grateful to a local Presbyterian congregation who heard of the shooting and prayed that night for her husband. She is grateful for the 'prayergrams' that continue coming from the Dunwoody Baptist Church.

Barbara Biello is realistic about this support. She realizes it cannot last forever. She says she gets "peace of mind" knowing that "in a year from now, when everyone else is gone," she can "fall back on the parish." She says belonging to a parish is "like going home -- home being where 'they take you in when you've nowhere else to go.' "

Response from St. Catherine of Siena's parishioners has been generous. The men's clubs and baseball teams have been "lots of help." In her two years of working with the parish's St. Vincent de Paul Society she witnessed parishioners' generosity and knows it will be there if she needs it.

In the meantime, support in the form of donations continues to flow into the Atlanta Disabled Officers Fund, according to John Bogino. He points out that while fundraisers are "doing the best we can to raise as much as possible," they are not finished.

Bogino says, "On July 19, I lived a day I never thought I would live," and when Barbara Biello tries to thank him, he tells her, "When the day comes that you get more out of this than I do, then you can thank me." The benefit and other fundraising projects for the officers with which he is involved will "put your faith back in people," he asserts.

Persons wising to make donations to the fund may send checks to: Disabled Officers Fund, P.O. Box 48384, Atlanta, GA 30340.