Local resident Dana Florence says she finds her strength in her children. Triplets Taylor, Brody and Cole were born prematurely at 25 weeks and five days. Between the three, they spent their first eight months in and out of the hospital, and at 10 months, they were all diagnosed with cerebral palsy.

“They’ve been through more than most people go through in an entire lifetime,” she says.

Dana and her husband, Jared, started Three to Be, a foundation to support research into treatment and therapies for childhood neurological disorders. Their inaugural event, the Stems of Hope Gala, is taking place Sept. 25 at the Kool Haus.

By the end of the year, Three to Be hopes to raise half a million dollars.

“We know with that money we can actually make a difference — a big difference,” says Dana.

She and Jared realized early on that the triplets, now 2, weren’t meeting their developmental milestones.

For Dana, the diagnosis was devastating.

“You have a picture of what your children are going to be, when they grow up, and everything changed at that very moment,” she says.

Dana and Jared decided then that they would do whatever they could for their children.

“I think that that has really helped us cope with the severity of the situation,” she says.

Dana didn’t know much about cerebral palsy before the triplets were diagnosed. When she started to do some digging, she says she was disappointed to find that not a lot was being done in the way of research. Dana was determined to change that.

As a full-time mom to three toddlers with special needs, Dana’s days are packed with appointments. But at the end of the day, once the triplets are in bed, she stays up into the wee hours of the night working on Three to Be.

So far, the response has been amazing, she says.

“The thing I care about the most is that it actually does something for my kids and other kids,” she says.

While the ultimate goal is to find a cure, Jared says he would also like to spread awareness and help other families in their situation.

As first-time parents, Jared says him and Dana don’t know any other reality.

“We’ve managed to learn to not let the diagnosis define our children,” he says.

It can be hard to see younger children who are doing things his kids can’t do, yet, he says. But the small stuff becomes a big deal, such as when his daughter was able to count to 10.

“I have the most beautiful kids, the most amazing kids and the happiest kids I’ve seen,” says Jared.

Taylor, who is starting to speak, is a girly girl with a great personality, says Dana. Cole is the comedian of the trio, always looking for a reaction. And Brody, the baby, is the sensitive one.

To donate or get involved, visit www.threetobe.org

I WAITED WITH great anticipation for the new documentary Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work. After all, Rivers wasn’t just a comedian I admired, she was my former boss. I worked as a producer on both her nightly and daytime TV shows in the ’80s.

The film had garnered good reviews on the festival circuit, probably due to Joan’s insistence that the documentary not be a puff piece. She wanted an intimate portrait, warts and all, which would be a real trick for the queen of cosmetic surgery.

This dichotomy has always been at the centre of Rivers’s world: physically she’s all artifice; but emotionally she’s an open book. And the film does not disappoint in its portrayal of a fierce and funny workaholic in the winter of her career.

And what a career! A lucky spot on The Tonight Show in 1965 put her on the showbiz map. She worked constantly as a stand-up, after that, breaking new comedic ground for women in the process.

Over time, her material grew more biting and more relevant to a nascent feminism that was spreading across the land. Her persona was one of a tough, no- nonsense broad who reduced the battle of the sexes to a struggle between beauty and money.

In 1986, after a permanent guest host stint on The Tonight Show she joined the fledgling Fox network. The show, which I worked on, never caught fire, and Joan was dumped nine months later. Shortly after, her beloved husband and mentor, Edgar Rosenberg, committed suicide.

The subsequent series of ups and downs in her career was punctuated by a successful but short-lived daytime TV series, a wildly successful career as a QVC pitchwoman and her controversial red-carpet Oscar commentaries, which the industry loathed and the public adored.

The film follows her through one complicated year (2008) in which she sees both triumphs and disappointments. She prepares a one-woman show that she workshops. The reviews are bad, so the project is aborted. Grudgingly, she becomes a contestant on Celebrity Apprentice; she becomes the hit of the show. And she severs her relationship with Billy Sammeth, her manager of more than 30 years.

What the film reveals is her unparalleled work ethic.There are scenes of her looking despairingly at her schedule book, at pages too empty and white for any comfort. She needs to be needed every minute of the day. It’s not just the money, although she does live in a manner fit for Marie Antoinette; it’s also the refusal to give up.

The movie confirms my impressions of her from 25 years ago. She was very good to work for. She loved creative people and gave them lots of latitude. She was regal but completely open about her insecurities, which is the odd combination that has resulted in legions of lifelong fans.

I always get a charge when I see her. The time I spent with her in L.A. was my favourite year. The production was in disarray from day one, but she protected all of us from network politics and let us have fun doing our job. After all the plastic surgery, the fancy outfits and the ridiculous lapdog she carried around everywhere, what I really remember was her kindness.