GEORGE WAGER, a California ad-

vertising man, was sitting on

his front porch one day in 1983,

watching his three kids play in  the yard. He had just read a news-

paper story about a young boy who

was hit by a car. The boy carried

no identification and the police

couldn't locate his parents. Six

hours after the accident the moth-

er was finally found; 20 hours

later the boy died of massive head

injuries.

Wager looked at his dog and

noticed the tags showing his pet's

name, address, owner and phone

number. The advertising man

suddenly realized that his dog carried more identification than his kids did.

Wager talked with firefighters, policemen and doctors. They all confirmed the need for a children's

ID tag that would include vital medical information and parental

consent for any emergency medical

procedures a doctor deems neces-

sary. The ad man then designed a

tearresistant, washable tag that

could be stitched into shoes or

clothes. He named it the Lifcsaver

tag. And he started giving his tags

to anybody who would take them.

At first there was only a trickle

of interest among a few emergency

workers and health-care officials.

Then a policeman in South Dakota

heard about Wager's project and

talked up the idea among local

banks and schools. Before long he

had given away 30,000 Lifcsaver

tags. The idea spread to Ohio

and New Jersey. By the spring

of 1986, 30 million tags had been

distributed.

That's when Reader's Digest

published "Have You Tagged Your

Kids Today?" The article in our

August 1986 issue chronicled George

Wager's quest to save the lives of

America's children. The result was

a tidal wave of enthusiasm.

Scott Sessa of Hush Puppies read

the Reader's Digest article and per-

suaded his company to order a

million tags to be distributed with

kids' shoes.

Jim Stockdale, then acting secre-

tary of California's Health and

Welfare Agency, thought Wager's program was important, and by the

HAVE YOUR KIDS BEEN TAGGED?

readers wrote to The Digest simply

to say thank you: a father whose

son received stitches on his face

without delay because he was wear-

ing a Lifcsaver tag; a woman whose

12-year-old daughter's tag alerts

emergency-room doctors that she is allergic to penicillin.

end of September 1986 he had seen

to it that every preschooler in every

day-care center licensed by the state

had a tag.

Reader's Digest received requests  for 18,000 reprints of the article. George Wager was deluged with more than 300,000 letters from readers asking for tags and addi- tional information. Since the story was published, 95 million tags have been handed out to kids and their parents, bringing Wager's total dis- tribution to some 125 million!

President Reagan thought so

much of George Wager that he selected him as the winner of the 1987 President's Volunteer Action Award in the public-safety category.

But the importance of this story is not so much in the numbers or the award. It's in the people. Several

A letter came from a pediatric

nurse. She recounted how one af-

ternoon a toddler was brought into

the emergency room other hospital

in Hawaii. "She had strayed from

her baby-sitter, was hit by a car and

sustained massive internal inju-

ries," the nurse wrote. "When they

came into the hospital, the sitter

kept screaming, 'She's got a tag on

her!' I explained to the doctors that

the tag was an authorization, and

they went to work right away." As  it turned out, the slightest delay

would have been fatal. The paren-

tal consent on the tag saved the child.

Concluded the nurse: "I saw that

young child a few days ago, and she     is now healthy and happy. If these   tags can save just one child, they are worth their weight in gold."

It's not too late to order Lifesaver tags for your children. Send a self- addressed, stamped envelope to

Lifesaver Charities, P.O. Box 125-

RD, Buena Park, Calif. 90621.

—THE EDITORS