A Birthday in Heaven

On October 10, 2025, DeAndre “Dre” Thomas would have turned 15. The milestone should have been marked with cake, laughter, and the vibrant energy of a teenager stepping into his high school years. Instead, his family gathers in quiet reflection, marking his first birthday in heaven. Dre’s life was cut short at just 14, but his courage, faith, and infectious spirit left an indelible mark on his family, his community, and countless others who were touched by his story. Diagnosed with medulloblastoma, a rare and aggressive form of brain cancer, in 2019, Dre faced a battle that would have tested the strongest among us. Yet, through surgeries, radiation, and grueling treatments, he remained a beacon of hope, often reassuring his family with a simple, powerful phrase: “God’s got me. I’m healed.”

Dre’s story is not just one of loss but of inspiration—a testament to a young boy’s bravery and a call to action for a world that must do better for children fighting cancer. As his mother, Sherice Johnson, puts it, “Dre wasn’t just our son. He was a light that showed us how to live bravely, love fiercely, and never give up.” This is the story of Dre Thomas, a Rally Kid whose legacy continues to ignite hope and demand change in the fight against childhood cancer.

A Bright Beginning in Coweta County

DeAndre Thomas was born in Newnan, Georgia, a tight-knit community in Coweta County where neighbors are family and local traditions run deep. From an early age, Dre was a force of nature—curious, kind, and always quick with a smile that could light up a room. He was the middle child, looking up to his older brother, Sean, a proud sailor in the U.S. Navy, and doting on his younger sister, Ryleigh, with the protective love only a big brother could offer. “Dre was the glue,” Sherice recalls. “He’d tease Ryleigh one minute, then be reading her a bedtime story the next. And Sean? Dre wanted to be just like him—strong, honorable, serving something bigger.”

At Arnall Middle School, Dre was a familiar face, known for his humor and his knack for bringing people together. He loved basketball, often shooting hoops in the driveway with friends, and had a particular fondness for Chick-fil-A, where the staff knew him by name and saved him extra waffle fries. The local Coweta County Sheriff’s Office adored him, too, often stopping by to check in on “their buddy Dre” during his treatment days. His infectious energy made him a favorite, but it was his resilience that would define him.

In 2019, when Dre was just 8 years old, his world changed. What started as persistent headaches and dizziness led to a devastating diagnosis: medulloblastoma, a malignant brain tumor that accounts for about 20% of pediatric brain cancers. The news hit the Thomas family like a freight train. “You hear ‘cancer,’ and your mind just stops,” Sherice says. “But Dre? He looked at me and said, ‘Mama, we got this.’ Even then, he was stronger than me.”

The Battle Begins: Facing Medulloblastoma

Medulloblastoma is a formidable foe, often requiring a multi-pronged approach of surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy. For Dre, the journey began with a craniotomy to remove as much of the tumor as possible. The procedure was high-risk, involving delicate navigation around critical brain structures. Sherice and her husband, Michael, sat in the waiting room at Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta, clutching each other’s hands, praying for their son. “Those hours felt like years,” Michael recalls. “But when the surgeon came out and said Dre made it through, we felt like we could breathe again.”

The surgery was just the beginning. Radiation followed, targeting residual cancer cells, and chemotherapy regimens stretched over months. The treatments were brutal—nausea, hair loss, and fatigue became part of Dre’s new reality. Yet, he faced each session with a courage that stunned his doctors. “He’d walk into the chemo room like he was going to a basketball game,” says Dr. Emily Rivera, a pediatric oncologist who worked with Dre. “He’d joke with the nurses, ask about their day. He made us all better at our jobs.”

Dre’s faith was his anchor. Raised in a family rooted in spirituality, he leaned heavily on his belief in God. “God’s got me,” he’d say, a mantra that became a rallying cry for his family. He’d write it on sticky notes, leave it in text messages to his mom, and even whisper it during the worst of his pain. “I’m healed,” he’d add, not as a denial of his illness but as a declaration of hope. For Dre, healing wasn’t just about his body—it was about his spirit, his purpose, and the love he shared.

A Rally Kid’s Spirit

Dre’s journey caught the attention of the Rally Foundation for Childhood Cancer Research, a Georgia-based nonprofit dedicated to funding pediatric cancer research and supporting families. As a Rally Kid, Dre became a symbol of resilience, his story shared at fundraisers and awareness events. The foundation, known for its “Rally On” slogan, saw in Dre the embodiment of their mission: to fight for kids who fight cancer. “Dre was special,” says Rally’s founder, Dean Crowe. “He didn’t just endure his treatments—he inspired everyone around him to keep going, to believe in something bigger.”

The community rallied around Dre, too. The Coweta County Sheriff’s Office organized “Dre Days,” where deputies would visit with gifts or take him for rides in their patrol cars, sirens blaring to his delight. At Chick-fil-A, employees created a “Dre’s Favorite” meal combo, donating proceeds to his medical expenses. Local churches held prayer vigils, and classmates at Arnall Middle made posters and bracelets with “Rally On for Dre” emblazoned in bold letters. “It wasn’t just about supporting Dre,” says Sheriff Lenn Wood. “He gave us something back—a reminder of what courage looks like.”

Dre’s bond with his family grew even stronger during this time. Sean, stationed with the Navy, would video call whenever he could, sharing stories of life at sea that made Dre’s eyes light up. Ryleigh, just 6 at the time, would crawl into Dre’s hospital bed, drawing pictures of them as superheroes. Sherice and Michael never left his side, juggling work, hospital stays, and the emotional toll of watching their son fight for his life. “There were days I wanted to break,” Sherice admits. “But Dre would look at me and say, ‘Mama, don’t cry. We’re tougher than this.’ And somehow, we kept going.”

A Hero’s Journey Across the Skies

In early 2025, Dre’s condition took a turn. The cancer had spread, and his doctors recommended a clinical trial at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital in Memphis, Tennessee. The family packed their bags, hopeful that this new treatment could offer a miracle. The journey to Memphis became a moment etched in the memories of everyone involved. Delta Air Lines, moved by Dre’s story, arranged a special flight for him and his family. As the plane taxied for takeoff, the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom: “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a young hero on board today. Let’s give a round of applause for DeAndre Thomas.” The cabin erupted in cheers, passengers wiping tears as they clapped for the boy in seat 12B, who waved shyly, his signature grin lighting up his face.

In Memphis, St. Jude welcomed Dre with open arms. The hospital, a beacon for children with cancer, provided not just medical care but a community of hope. Dre made friends with other patients, swapping Pokémon cards and sneaking extra cookies from the cafeteria. The staff marveled at his spirit, nicknaming him “Captain Dre” for his ability to lift everyone’s mood. Outside the hospital, the Memphis community embraced him, too. Local firefighters gave him a hero’s send-off, complete with a fire truck parade, when he completed a round of treatment. “Dre made you want to be better,” says Nurse Carla Thompson. “He’d ask about my kids, even when he was hooked up to IVs. That’s who he was.”

Back in Atlanta, when Dre returned for follow-up care, the welcome was equally heartfelt. An Honor Guard from the Coweta County Sheriff’s Office stood on the tarmac at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, saluting as Dre disembarked. Passersby stopped to take photos, some sharing the moment on social media with captions like, “This is what a real hero looks like.” The posts went viral, spreading Dre’s story far beyond Georgia.

The Final Chapter: A Light That Never Fades

Despite the best efforts of his medical team, Dre’s cancer proved relentless. In late August 2025, just as Childhood Cancer Awareness Month began, Dre passed away surrounded by his family. The news sent shockwaves through Coweta County and beyond. “It felt like the world lost a piece of its heart,” says Amy Carter, a teacher at Arnall Middle. “Dre wasn’t just a student—he was a teacher, showing us how to face the hardest things with grace.”

His funeral was a celebration of his life, attended by hundreds—classmates, deputies, nurses, even strangers who’d followed his journey online. Ryleigh placed a drawing of Dre as a superhero on his casket, whispering, “I love you, big brother.” Sean, home on leave, delivered a tearful eulogy: “Dre wanted to be like me, but I was the one looking up to him. He showed me what strength really is.” Sherice and Michael, though devastated, found solace in the outpouring of love. “Dre’s light is still here,” Sherice told the crowd. “He’s with us, pushing us to keep fighting.”

A Call to Action: The Fight Against Childhood Cancer

Dre’s story is a stark reminder of a sobering reality: childhood cancer remains the leading cause of death by disease for children in the United States. According to the American Cancer Society, about 10,500 children under 15 will be diagnosed with cancer in 2025, and nearly 1,200 will die. Yet, only 4% of federal cancer research funding goes to pediatric cancers, leaving families like the Thomases to rely on private organizations like the Rally Foundation for hope. “We’re fighting for scraps,” says Dean Crowe. “Kids like Dre deserve better—more research, better treatments, a real shot at life.”

The Rally Foundation, which supported Dre’s family with grants for travel and medical expenses, is pushing for change. Their annual “Rally On” campaign, held during Childhood Cancer Awareness Month, raises funds for research and clinical trials. In Dre’s honor, the foundation launched the “Rally On for Dre” initiative, encouraging communities to host gold ribbon events—gold being the color for childhood cancer awareness. In Newnan, a 5K run drew over 1,000 participants, with proceeds funding a new medulloblastoma study. “Dre’s story is saving lives,” Crowe says. “That’s what he would have wanted.”

Social media amplified the call. On X, #RallyOnForDre trended, with posts like, “Dre Thomas fought like a warrior. Let’s fight for kids like him—fund pediatric cancer research!” Another user shared a photo of Dre’s Honor Guard welcome, writing, “This kid moved a nation. His legacy demands action.” The hashtag garnered thousands of likes, spreading awareness far beyond Georgia.

A Legacy That Endures

In Coweta County, Dre’s memory is everywhere. Arnall Middle School dedicated a bench in the courtyard, engraved with “God’s Got Me: In Memory of Dre Thomas.” The local Chick-fil-A now hosts an annual “Dre Day,” donating proceeds to Rally. The sheriff’s office established a scholarship in his name for aspiring first responders, a nod to Dre’s dream of serving like his brother Sean. Ryleigh, now 8, wears a gold ribbon necklace, vowing to become a doctor to “help kids like Dre.” Sean, back at sea, carries a photo of his brother in his uniform pocket, a reminder of the hero he strives to honor.

For Sherice and Michael, the grief is raw, but Dre’s spirit fuels them. “He taught us to keep going,” Sherice says. “Every time I feel like giving up, I hear his voice: ‘Mama, we got this.’” They’ve become advocates, speaking at Rally events and lobbying for increased funding. “Dre’s fight isn’t over,” Michael says. “It’s our fight now—for every kid who’s still battling.”

Dre’s story challenges us all. It asks us to look at the faces of childhood cancer—not as statistics, but as children with dreams, families, and futures. It demands we question why only 4% of funding goes to the youngest fighters. It urges us to act—donate, advocate, or simply listen to the stories of kids like Dre. His life, though brief, was a masterclass in courage, faith, and love. As we mark his 15th birthday, let us honor him not with tears alone but with action. Rally On for Dre, and for every child who deserves a chance to grow up.