David McBroom is an Alaskan at heart.

Nevermind that the Special Olympic alpine skier calls Redmond, Wash., home, or that he'd never been to the 49th state until this week.

McBroom is part Alaskan because that's where his heart came from. Almost five years ago, McBroom received a heart transplant. The McBrooms found out that the organ donor was an Alaskan who was about 20 years old. The surgeons told them the donor had a good heart, and McBroom was the prime candidate for it.

While McBroom admits that coming to the place where his heart came from was unnerving, he was determined to join Team USA and compete in his first Special Olympics World Winter Games.

Thirty-seven years ago, McBroom was born with cerebral palsy, a clubfoot and developmental disabilities. There was nothing wrong with his heart, as far as his parents knew.

Then, about six years ago, McBroom was playing baseball when he passed out. He fainted

a few more times, but he never told his parents. "I didn't think there was anything wrong with me," said McBroom, standing solid at 6 feet tall, more than 200 pounds.

Finally a friend spoke up, telling his parents what was happening.

"That's David," said Judy, his mother. Classic David. He never complains. He doesn't condone it either. His ski helmet wears a sticker that says "No Whining."

McBroom returned to the ski slopes Friday for a slalom race, even though the day before he had fallen hard enough to warrant a visit to the hospital to see if he'd broken any bones. He said he was only bruised and was able to make it down the mountainside at Alyeska Resort Friday without falling down.

When Judy heard her son was fainting years ago, she knew he needed to a see a doctor. The news was dire. There's nothing we can do, doctors told the McBrooms. Their son will die unless he receives a new heart. He had a condition that causes his heart to become enlarged and pump inefficiently, Judy said.

McBroom quit his job as a janitor. He quit skiing and playing baseball, too. But he wouldn't give up his role as the lead actor in his community's rendition of the "Music Man." That was his first time as the lead and he was determined to make it to the stage.

McBroom's name was put on the list of people waiting for heart transplants. McBroom was given a pager. If a heart was available, doctors would page him to let him know. Twice, McBroom received false alarms. All the while, he grew sicker.

"We were watching David die," said Judy, a mother of three sons. "We knew that within days we'd lose our son."

Then, on July 6, 1996, McBroom was paged for the right reason. He was sleeping that morning at his relative's cabin an hour away from Seattle. Doctors told him that a heart might be available.

A few hours later, while he was shopping with his grandfather at a hardware store, McBroom's father, Cliff, called and told him to wait there so he could pick him up. The heart was his.

Cliff drove his son to the University of Washington hospital for the operation. McBroom didn't waste any time recuperating.

"Six months after his heart transplant -- six months -- he was back on the ski slopes," Judy said. McBroom said he returned so quickly for just one reason: He likes to ski.

His parents worried, but made a decision: "He got the heart to live," Judy said. "Let him live."

The McBrooms realize that the only reason why their son was skiing at Alyeska last week is because an Alaska family lost a loved one and donated a heart to their son.

Without knowing who they were, McBroom wrote a letter to the donor family thanking them for his new heart. Organ donation centers, like Life Alaska, have set up rules specifying that donor and recipient families can write letters to each other after the donation. Donations are considered confidential, however, so the letters cannot reveal too much personal information and must be sent through the transplant center, which will forward it on to the other party, said Nancy Davis, with Life Alaska.

If both sides are comfortable, their identities will be revealed to each other.

McBroom never received a letter back. Judy said she respects the privacy of the donor family, but she'd like to thank them for giving her son another chance. McBroom said he'd like to add something to that message.

"Life does go on," he said.

McBroom's new life includes membership on Nanci Smith's alpine skiing team. Smith, a ski coach, remembered meeting McBroom this year and realizing he had strong skiing skills. By Friday, McBroom had earned fourth- and fifth-place medals. She didn't know at the time that he'd had a heart transplant. She could, however, detect his motivation.

"He's got really a lot of heart," she said.

Reporter Ann Potempa can be reached at apotempa@adn.com or 257-4581.