He nearly died once before. This time, he needed someone's help, but who?

Terry Sutton only waved and exchanged a few words with his new neighbor when she moved in next door.

He was in a battle with cancer, and the disease was winning. Surgeries and chemotherapy treatments chewed up his energy and his time. 

But his wife, Brenda, introduced herself to Danielle Donovan, a mother of three, and talked through neighborly issues as they came up - the flushing of water lines in Red Lion, the stray kittens, and eventually, the cause of her husband's long absences.

"She would let me know how he was doing," Danielle said, but as the first year next door to the Suttons wore on, the news grew more dire. Cancer on Terry's liver threatened his life. 

He had been given a choice: to stay on chemotherapy for the rest of his life or get a liver transplant. If he didn't do one of those, he had about six months to live.

"I knew I didn’t want to do chemotherapy for the rest of my life," Terry said. 

Danielle learned about his need for a liver donor from another neighbor. Friends and family had been driving out to UPMC in Pittsburgh to be tested, but no one had been a match.

Danielle understood the fragility of his life, the hopeless feeling of a prognosis with no easy solution. She 'd been on that path before and couldn't bear to see someone else on it.

She made a decision that day that would save Terry's life. 

Danielle, the angel

In the tree-lined Red Lion neighborhood where the Donovans and the Suttons live, Danielle's sister has a house there, too, just a couple of doors down.

"My sister and I, we kind of follow each other," said Danielle, 45. "I love having my family close."

Sandra Hoskin helped to raise Danielle, 18 years younger, after their mother died from complications of diabetes. Danielle was just 4 years old.

When she was 22, Danielle's father was diagnosed with bone cancer. They didn't know how long he had carried the disease, but by the time they discovered it, he lived just one month. 

There have been times in her life when Danielle needed a little help, and she's grateful that it was given. So when a neighbor mentioned that Terry needed a liver donor, Danielle wanted to give back for all that had been done for her.

The neighbor mentioned Terry's blood type: A-positive; the same as Danielle's. She went home that day and quickly researched the partial liver transplant procedure, then she called Brenda to tell her she'd go to UPMC in Pittsburgh for testing - her sister would drive her - to see if she was a match.

Brenda, the fighter

The first time Terry nearly lost his life, he was a young husband and father.

He fell from a ladder, 16 feet off the ground, directly onto concrete, and he stopped breathing.

He was revived, but his survival still wasn't guaranteed. In a coma and hooked up to a respirator, Terry had multiple broken bones and a severe head injury.

A neurologist told Brenda that her husband would be on a respirator for the rest of his life. She answered him directly: "I'm sorry, but you don't know me, and you don't know my husband. He doesn't accept other people's limitations."

Terry woke up from the coma on Christmas Day 1992, seven days after the accident. Recovery took more than a year, as he learned to walk and talk again. At his side was a woman who knew her share of challenges: his wife. 

When Brenda's mother was pregnant with her, she took a medication called DES, eventually discovered to cause reproductive issues in girls. Brenda was born at just six months of gestation, a tiny baby, and as she grew up and more was learned about DES, she had treatment for cervical cancer. It was assumed that Brenda would never have a child. 

"When he married me, I said, 'I don’t know if I can have children,'" she said. "But we never gave up trying."

They spent their savings on in vitro fertilization injections, but no baby. They gave up IVF and brought home a dog, then she found out she was pregnant. 

She remembered something her husband had said on their first date: If he ever had a son, he would name him Ben.

Ben, the devoted son

Young Ben wanted a fort in his backyard, and Terry did something his son would never forget: He sold his motorcycle to buy the pieces of a fort that they could build.

Terry was the dad who always owned a business but made time to coach his son's Little League. When he was a teenager, Ben invited his friends over to the house to play poker, and Terry joined in.

Ben once scored tickets to a Green Bay Packers pre-season game (Terry's favorite team). They road-tripped to Lambeau Field, shaved their bodies, and Terry had this painted on his back: "If lost, return to Hilton Hotel."

Brenda was the disciplinarian; she called Terry "a play toy" for Ben.

But Terry also worked at one business after another, and he wanted Ben to share that work ethic. At 10, Ben cleaned the muck pits at the car wash Terry owned.

"He taught me the value of hard work," Ben said.  

And that's what Ben was doing two years ago - brokering commercial real estate in Manhattan - when his father learned he either needed a liver transplant or faced the end of his life. 

There was no question in Ben's mind. His mother would need help running the family's business, managing commercial and residential real estate. 

It was time to go home.

Terry, the optimist

"My dad is my superman," Ben wrote in 2015.

Terry had just been diagnosed with stage 3 colorectal cancer at age 51, and Ben created a gofundme page to help defray the cost of his treatment. In an essay on that page, Ben wrote a heartfelt message about his father: "Some of you may know my dad, some of you may not. Those that do, know my dad walks thorough his day, every single day, with a smile on his face trying to brighten someone else’s day."

In fact, when faced with cancer, Terry took a medically necessary path of chemotherapy and surgery, but he also saw a naturopathic physician who worked with him on self-treatment: dieting, exercise and meditation, among them.

Foremost for Terry is always the power of his own mind: Optimism and a belief that the mind can overcome many challenges.

"If I had to eat Brussels sprouts only for the rest of my life, I would just to stay alive. You have to have a mindset: I can beat this, my body does not have cancer," Terry said. "I’m not giving cancer the energy it needs to live." 

When his colorectal cancer metastasized, it went to his liver and a lung. The lung cancer was removed, but the tumors on his liver didn't vanish and eventually reached his vena cava, a critical and large vein that carries blood to the heart. The surgeon wouldn't operate with his liver so compromised from the disease and treatment, then the news came of a choice: chemotherapy, wait for a liver, or die.

Livers for transplant typically come from a deceased donor, said Dr. Christopher Hughes, surgical director for liver transplantation at UPMC, but those donations are for patients with the most critically ill livers. Even though Terry would die without a new liver, he wouldn't be as high on the transplant list as others. He needed a donor.

Among the common reasons for liver transplants are hepatitis and fatty liver disease, which can lead to cirrhosis, Hughes said.

"There will be about 8,000 liver transplants done this year across the country from deceased donors. There will be about 500-550 transplants done from living donors," Hughes said. "We're by far the largest center in the United States doing this procedure (with living donors)."

A living donor gives up only a portion of her liver because it naturally regenerates; within about eight weeks, the donor and recipient have fully functioning livers, as long as the procedure is successful.

Ben wanted to be a donor, but he wasn't a match. Brenda was just a year too old to offer part of her liver; the range for donors is typically 18-55 years old. The Suttons friends and family came from all over, even other states, to go through the test. 

No matches, until their next-door neighbor, Danielle Donovan, heard from UPMC that her tests looked good. When Danielle received the letter that officially said she could be the donor, she called Brenda. 

"I'm giving your husband my liver," Brenda remembers Danielle telling her.

And so she did.

In a surgery in May 2019, Danielle had part of her liver removed at UPMC in Pittsburgh, and in another surgical room, Terry received it.

"People see 'transplant,' and they think it’s daunting, but it was an easy process. It really was," Danielle said.

She was out of the hospital in a few days; Terry's process has been longer and more difficult, as his body takes hold of a new liver.

"Honestly, Terry and Brenda and Ben always say how much I’ve helped them, but they’ve helped me more than I could ever have helped them," Danielle said. "They make me want to be a better person." 

And Terry, more than one year later, is free of cancer with a fully functioning liver. 

He said, "I’m going to beat this, I’m going to stay healthy, I’m going to survive."

It was the selfless act of their next-door neighbor, Danielle, that gave him another chance.

Brenda said, "Where do angels sit down beside you?"

On a tree-lined street in Red Lion, this time.

Kim Strong can be reached at kstrong@gannett.com.