Little Louis Celeberti is one of the lucky ones. He and his parents had something to be grateful for on Thanksgiving Day.

You haven't heard of Louis, but he was born with a kidney malfunction that tethered him to a dialysis machine and threatened his life. Now, with his father's kidney inside of him, he's able to enjoy turkey and the fixings like any 2-year-old.

``It's like night and day. It's turned around our whole life,'' his father says.

You have heard of Alonzo Mourning, who until this week made a pretty good living playing basketball in the NBA. Kidney disease ended his career prematurely, and now he too needs a transplant.

A funny thing happened when Mourning announced he would need a kidney. Dozens of strangers called to see if they could give him one of theirs.

No one outside of Louis Celeberti's family offered him a kidney. And it's not the kind of thing you go around asking people at the office for.

Before it was discovered that Louis' father was a match, the family spent weeks anguishing over the chances of finding a kidney for their infant son.

The odds aren't good. While most people were eating their Thanksgiving dinner, there were 59,000 people waiting for a kidney.

Some have been on a list for years, undergoing nearly constant dialysis while hoping they will be one of the lucky ones.

``There was a time we thought we would have to put him on the list, and it was overwhelming,'' said Celeberti, whose first name is also Louis. ``It's difficult to fathom how many people are waiting for a phone call and you don't know when it's going to come.''

For some it never does.

By the time Americans cleared the table and put away the Thanksgiving leftovers, 17 more people died while awaiting transplants.

Those with type O blood like Mourning wait an average of almost 4{ years for a kidney. In New Jersey, where Mourning played for the Nets, there are 2,434 people on the kidney waiting list.

Mourning probably won't have to wait nearly that long. In just a few days after Monday's announcement that he needs a kidney transplant because he has focal segmental glomerulosclerosis, the switchboard lit up at the Kidney and Urology Foundation of America.

About 60 people called asking how they could become a kidney donor. Half of those said they wanted to give one of their kidneys to Mourning.

``With Alonzo, people are caught up in the story, and it's a wonderful story if they can change his life,'' said Dr. Ira Greifer, the foundation's president. ``How often can you do something that you can say did something to change someone's life?''

In a way, it is a touching holiday story about people who care. But it also shows that celebrity matters in America, whether it's people making signs to support Kobe Bryant or offering one of their kidneys to Mourning.

Meanwhile, more than 6,000 Americans will die this year because there are not enough organs to go around.

These people aren't celebrities. Many, though, do have something in common with Mourning. Like him, a disproportionate 35 percent are African-American, many of whom have kidney-related diseases such as hypertension and diabetes.

The people at the Kidney and Urology Foundation don't begrudge Mourning his kidney. Indeed, they're grateful that his plight has publicized the basic problem in America _ there aren't enough donors to keep up with the number of people needing kidney transplants.

``If someone is waiting on a list they can look at it as, 'Alonzo Mourning is a superstar who is getting it because of who he is,''' Celeberti said. ``But you can also say, 'That's one extra kidney I might be able to get.' If he's a celebrity and skips ahead of people on the list, then I'm sure they would have a tough time with it. But if someone's willing to give him one and is of sound mind and body, I don't think you can argue with that.''

The good news for both little Louis Celeberti and Mourning is that kidney transplants work. It's been 49 years since the first kidney was transplanted between two twins in Boston, and with new medications and techniques the odds are good for long term survival.

Former San Antonio Spurs star Sean Elliott got one from a relative and now serves as spokesman for ``Closing the Gap,'' an effort to get more minority donors to sign up.

Before Celeberti found out he could donate to his son, he thought of giving a kidney to someone else who might have a loved one who could in turn give a kidney to his son.

He knew one thing: He didn't want his son spending years undergoing dialysis while on a waiting list. Once off dialysis, Louis began walking within weeks and was soon running. His personality changed, and the only difference between Louis and other children today is the medicine he takes to prevent rejection.

There's a big difference in his father, though.

``You wake up every morning and look at your scar and say, 'I made a difference in someone's life,''' Celeberti said. ``No one can take that away from you.''

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Tim Dahlberg is a national columnist for The Associated Press. Write to him at tdahlberg(at)ap.org.