An angel sent me to a biker bar to help a little girl dying of cancer

Bailei Rhom just turned 6 years old. She will never live to see 7 years old. In December 2009, she was diagnosed with a rare brain and spinal cancer. She survived one major and two minor operations. She traveled to Chapel Hill for chemotherapy and radiation treatment. She stayed tough and positive. Just five weeks ago she was cancer free. She had fought the impossible battle and won. It was all a miracle.

In the meantime, friends had been thinking about planning a benefit for Bailei's family because the financial costs were more than adding up. Her father had stayed by her side, accompanying her to appointments, working only odd jobs so that Daddy could be there for his little girl. It was all sad, but Bailei was cancer free and hopes were high that enough money could be raised to at least help the family for the next few months, until they get could back on their feet, until life could return to normal.

That all changed July 14th. Bailei had a post-op check-up on that day and the family learned new tumors had developed. But these tumors were much stronger than the first, and there was no cure. No maybe's. No if's. Just the cold hard fact that Bailei would not be alive much longer. The family was understandably shocked. Friends celebrating Bailei's earlier miraculous recovery were at a loss of words to comfort the family. All anyone could do, was cry. And pray. Hospice has been called in to care for Bailei at home and now the family needs financial help to make her last days happy ones. And they need money to bury her.

Amanda Shelton stepped up to to take on the benefit and make it a bigger and, unfortunately, a much sadder, but very necessary event. She's organized a Benefit Motorcyle Run for Bailei's family this Sunday starting at 12:30. The run's planned route is such: Shart at Shakey's at 12:30, then on to Just One More, Mtn. View, Fairview Tavern, Mark's Place, Hollands and then back to Shakey's for food and a benefit auction. Cost is $10 per person to participate in the run.

I've never met the beautiful Bailei, nor had I met Amanda Shelton until last night. I was in want of a cold beer and didn't know exactly where I was interested in going. I drove down by the river, thinking I might head to one of the local microbreweries that is catching so much attention these days. But, it didn't feel right. I kept traveling along Riverside Drive and remembered a biker bar I had not seen the inside of in years. That's where I was going to stop.

When I got inside, I gravitated to a corner, near where Amanda Shelton was busy writing on her yellow note pad. She asked me if I was going to be there this Sunday for the event. What event? I asked. She told  me and asked me to please tell other people. Telling other people what is going on and helping coordinate special events is what I do. What I've been doing for at least the last 20 years.

I had no reason to stop in Shakey's yesterday, except I was meant to. I'm convinced my own Earl (the angel from TNT's now defunct Saving Grace) led me there, put me on a mission to help get the word out and find a few extra donations to auction off. I didn't get to see any fancy wings or blinding light, but my heart and head just knew - just simply and surely knew - what had happened. Now I know some people might think, 'yeah right, an angel is going to take you into a bar for a beer. A biker's bar at that. You're just making up excuses.' Most people who currently know me know I don't need to make up excuses for my actions, and I have no problem stopping in places where I don't know anyone and striking up an interesting conversation. So there's my story of how I got involved. How are you involved in this story?

Here's a link to a facebook event page that explains more about the day.

http://www.facebook.com/?sk=messages&tid=1250196113347#!/event.php?eid=143734528975540&ref=ts

Hope to see you Sunday. If you can't make it to the event however, and would like to make a cash donation, you can stop at Shakey's at 790 Riverside Drive and give it to the bartender (828-271-6685). Or you can call Amanda Shelton, event organizer, at (828) 712-4974.

FB chat box made me think of friends who were here today ... gone tomorrow ... for good

Yes, I'm a facebook user. (Who isn't these days? I know, there are a few hold outs, but not too many.) When I first signed up, I didn't really understand the chat box bit. You know that little box that tells you which friend is online? You hit their name and up pops a chat box for you to have a private talk with them right then in real time. Like being on the phone. Well, sort of. I think you know what I'm talking about.

At first, I liked that chat box. I had great conversations with friends I have not talked with for many years. At first. And then I realized that chat box is kind of like a friend or neighbor who just pops over unannounced. Sometimes you're happy to see them. You invite them in, or sit on the porch and chat until there's nothing more to chat about. Other times, you really wish they would have called first. Given you some notice so you could have at least swept up the dust bunnies, or combed your hair.

So, I quickly learned how to turn my chat box off. We could send messages or leave notes on each other's wall. Get back when either one of us felt like it. But, lately, I've started playing with that chat box again. Sometimes, someone will send me a pop up message, but I didn't realize it because I had left my laptop open but walked away from my computer. Or I'll try to start up a chat, only to find my friend has just signed off. Sometimes you can even watch when your friends go on and offline in real time. All that popping in and out made me think of how many people I've known who were here today - gone tomorrow. As in, gone tomorrow for good.

I've decided I'm going to start leaving that chat box online more often. I miss my friends when they are gone tomorrow. So, if they want to pop in on me today ... that will be just fine by me.

Blue Ridge Rollergirls had a baby and they named the baby Madison

Imagine this. Your mom is a Blue Ridge Roller Derby girl and goes by the public name of Smithereen, and she’s part of something that is a must-see group in Asheville right now. The BR Roller Girls are It. You go to practices, sit around with a few other teenage girls and *get* to watch mom and friends with names like Poison Sue Smac skating round and round a rink, punching, blocking, hitting, falling, screaming, laughing … having a blast. You sit. You watch. You eventually get up, put on your own skates and pretend you’re one of the big girls. You think: “One day.”

That’s how The Madison Junior Derby Divas came to be. And you can meet them at The Blue Ridge Rollergirl’s Hell Chere Bout, Saturday, July 31 at the Asheville Civic Center, 7 pm. They are making their debut in "a little friendly exhibition" with the Little City Junior Rollers from Johnson City, TN.

“We’re figuring this out as we go along,” says Smac aka Lisa, as she describes taking on the task of coaching the younger group. “We kept talking about it how would be a great idea if there were a younger group. And the only way it was going to happen was just do it.”

So they are. Just doing it. Smac and Smithereen’s daughter talked to some of their friends, word got out, and The Blue Ridge Roller Derby girls had a baby girl. The baby girl is named Madison because that is where the mother’s live and where the BBRG have finally landed a spot to practice without it costing next month’s paycheck. They practice at the Marshall Island Gym, located behind the popular Marshall High Studios.

The younger derby girls - about eight active skaters right now - don’t get to be quite as physical as their 'mama’s'. They are limited to leaning and blocking. They’ll have to wait to turn 18 before they get to start hitting and all the other good stuff.

For more info: http://madisonjuniorderbydivas.com

And BTW, I like to spread the word about various out ‘n about happenings and people around Asheville and WNC. If you’ve got something you think I might like, a story about some special event or some special character, send it to me and I’ll help you get the word out. Send it even if you don’t think I’ll like it. You just never know unless you ask. Email me at outnaboutwnc@gmail.com.

Zach's story - experiencing defeat and failure, and a refusal to permit it to define his character

*Tracy's note: (January, 20, 2012) This is a repost of a story I wrote almost two years ago. In light of the ruling that Asheville schools have been ordered to pay $791,000 to area charter schools, I thought it'd be a fine time to re-share this tale. I'd like to add that Zach is now a thriving sophomore at Asheville High School and is involved with the A.V.I.D. (Advancement Via Individual Determination) program, that is helping him prepare for college and requires he take honor classes each year. Through this program, we no longer struggle over homework issues and this year Zach passed all EOC's without having to retake any tests. An accomplishment he has long awaited. This program reminds me of his Evergreen schooling and we are all very pleased with it.

My point is this: It's all about the student, people ... and charter schools and programs such as Asheville High's AVID get that. Time for everyone else to jump on board.*

Summer vacation is quickly evaporating. Each day I am aware this may be the last summer Zach and I spend so much time together in our little cocoon we call home. He goes into high school this coming fall and chances are next summer he will be working, driving and probably spending more time with friends or on the football field. Zach is a fighter and has already proved he has what it takes to be a leader. He has learned this the hard way.

Zach graduated this summer from Evergreen Community Charter School, here in Asheville. It was his second go around as an 8th grader. It was not an easy decision for us to make, nor an easy one for him to accept. We held him back because he just wasn't prepared for 9th grade. He has learning disabilities, which means nothing other than to say my husband and I had to fight to keep him in Evergreen for 8th grade again because Zach’s teachers had come to believe he just wasn’t trying. We tested him last spring and discovered the root of his problems. We spent money on brain training programs, and with no thanks to Blue Cross (who considered the software 'alternative' therapy, therefore would not cover any of the costs), Zach improved his memory retention by 20 points. He spent last summer working on the brain programs, 45 minutes a day, five days a week, for five weeks. Not first choice in how a 14-year-old wanted to spend a summer. We also discovered teaching and homework strategies that would help him to learn to the best of his abilities.

Zach was told he had to prove himself at the end of the first trimester, or he would be asked to leave Evergreen. Zach was motivated to stay there and proved himself more than worthy of graduating from the school. He was given an excellent+ report at our final parent/student/teacher conference; something we were afraid he would never achieve. We, and his homeroom teacher, cried to see a kid who just about everybody, including other students/friends, had given up on. Yet, he fought, and fought hard. He more than succeeded and proved so many, including himself, wrong.

His work paid off and he was rewarded with one of five prestigious awards given to 8th graders leaving Evergreen. It added to the joy that the award was presented to him by his favorite teacher. After the ceremony, this teacher came up to me, my eyes filled with tears, as were his. He told me when discussion about this award came up; only one name was mentioned. That name was Zach Hyorth. I post this speech, not only to record the event, but to remind the world: Don't ever give up on a student. They may have issues that are unknown. Take the time to look, to ask, to discover, find out what that student is thinking and feeling. You might just find that you can change that young person's life forever. Another bonus from this award: Each teacher came up and thanked me for fighting to keep Zach in 8th grade again. Although most statistics show - and most teachers believe - that holding back is not the best choice that is not always the case. Those teachers are also forever changed by Zach's story.

From Tony Mele, middle school social studies teacher, Evergreen Charter School:

-- 'Ladies and Gentlemen:

This year I’ve been asked to present the White Pine Award – in recognition of the student who demonstrated perseverance and admirable determination in the pursuit of a personal or academic goal.

As a teacher, I’ve had the privilege of giving many awards to my students, and I can honestly tell you I don’t know that I’ve ever presented one that I’m prouder of. As I prepare each year for what I intend to say, I always try to take a moment and reflect on two things:

One … What have I learned from this student? And …

Two … How does this student really personify this award?

I’ve learned something about enthusiasm, an infectious smile, and a determination to give a personal best.

I’ve learned something about reflection, honesty, and trust.

I’ve learned something about facing disappointment, and how to demonstrate a courage and dignity in pushing through it.

I’ve learned about choosing the easier, softer way … recognizing the cost, and then making the harder choice.

I’ve learned about leaving behind the invisible, and striving to be exceptional.

I’ve learned something about experiencing defeat and failure, and a refusal to permit it to define a character.

I’ve learned something about the difference between trying, and doing, and how that discovery can change the course of a life.

And most memorable of all, I’ve learned about the remarkable courage a young man can demonstrate when faced with standing in front of his parents, teachers, and peers, no place to hide, humbled, and yet driven and determined in spite of anything any of us might have said to the contrary.

Does this students’ action define this award?

Does he exemplify Perseverance … and admirable determination?

I feel his commitment, his incredible growth, and his inspiring passion are the true personifications of these qualities.

And so I couldn’t be more honored to present the White Pine Award to Zach Hyorth.'

Zach's struggles are not yet behind him, but he is ready to face them head on. I love you, Zach. God blessed me with you, and I could not be more proud. I cannot wait to see what you are going to teach the world. Until, then, I'm going to savor what is left of our summer together.

A tale of two grandfathers .... 'you're number one'

Many of you know I'm adopted. Some of you know I've found both of my biological parents. Some of you have not a clue as to what I'm talking about. Sorry, but I'm not going into that tale right now. You're just going to have to deal with that little tidbit of my life and let me move on with my adventure. But, it's important for you to understand that fact so you'll appreciate this story about my dad. My adopted dad. My preacher daddy. My daddy.

My biological father and I lost touch for several years for various reasons. My son was about nine when bio dad and I reconnected. I knew he'd kill me if he ever found out he had a grandson and I had not told him, so it was time for new introductions. We were all waiting for bio dad to show up at my dad's house.(My adopted dad ... I know it's gets confusing, but try and hold on here with me. How do you think I feel?) Daddy kept us entertained with his ever colorful stories of his everyday life.

He and a woman were driving - in separate cars - on one of the gazillion of freeway miles somewhere between Dallas and Fort Worth. And, although my 80-something father liked to drive no less than 80 miles an hour, that speed was too slow for her. She finally passed him, sailed by, showing him her middle finger held high. The bird. The big 'ef off. Daddy smiled at her, laughed to himself, then decided she must have really liked him because "she was telling me I was number 1." My son lay on the floor, at the feet of one beloved grandfather, waiting to meet a new grandfather and had himself a fierce giggle when he saw his grandpa give the bird sign.

The doorbell rang as soon as the story was over. (My dad had great timing.) He answered the door and greeted my bio dad (they had met several times years before). Bio dad walks in and Daddy says, "Hi there, how have you been? I'd like you to meet our grandson, Zach." Bio dad bends down to shake hands with my well-mannered 9-year-old and tells him how nice it is to meet him. Rather than a handshake, bio dad is greeted with an upheld middle finger. "Hi. It's nice to meet you, too. You're number one."

The blessing of just being

I have nothing to say today. No pressing story I'm itching to let loose. No important topic I think the world needs to know about. The weather was rather typical for this time of year in Asheville. Thankful we got some rain. Glad it didn't last all day. The washer and dryer have spun the afternoon. I know I have tons of messages or stories to be told, and they'll come out when they are supposed to come out. But not today. I doubt anyone is disappointed. No one, except for me. When I committed to electronic blogging, I wanted to share something charming, moving, perhaps even disturbing, at least every other day. But truth is, life sometimes just is. It's the moment. It's the mundane. It's the quiet. It's the blessing of just being. I think it's time to do my fingernails.

Downtown After 5 in Asheville exists became of a humble farmer who shared his stories

June 20, 2014 - Annual honoring of the unknown man responsible for Downtown After 5 series

Asheville's Downtown After 5 concert series has grown extremely popular and is celebrating its 22nd year this summer. Ask someone how it all got started and they'll probably give you some answer about how much time and sweat the volunteers put into making it happen. And that's true. And I'm thankful for their hard work. But, if you ask them how it all began, you get a blank stare. Most of the volunteers are newcomers to Asheville and possess not a clue about its humble beginnings. Even some of the bigwigs who head the committee that puts on Downtown After 5 don't know how it all got started. They give a lot of misplaced credit to one very diligent volunteer who came in the second or third year and helped take it to its next level.

It was the summer of 1987 and we had a booth set up for Bele Chere on Lexington Avenue. (Bele Chere is Asheville's huge summer party that pretty much closes all of the downtown streets.) We were giving away balloons, hoping to attract customers to our booth so we could promote Asheville's first arts and news independent publication, our new baby and business. It was called Out 'n About. We had only been publishing for about 3 months, beginning in April 1987. Bele Chere hadn't been taking place that long and still had a homey feel. No rules and regulations about how booths had to look. You paid your fee; you got your space. We set up a very home-spun wooden booth that would not have won any best decorated awards, and commenced to doing our thing.

An older gentleman wearing overalls and a baseball cap, sweat pouring down his neck, approached our booth with a small cardboard table and a box. He asked if we minded if he sat in the shade of our booth, set his table up, put out voter registration cards and try and get people signed up to vote. Sure. Why not? He was doing a great thing. We were shocked when he told us how many people had turned him away from their booths. We were the last booth he was going to ask before heading on back to the house.

Maybe they were afraid of how he looked. His overalls were a bit dirty, his face aged with lines probably earned from years of working mountain fields and growing and harvesting tobacco. He had a long, scraggly beard, his white mustache stained from his enjoying his own hand-rolled, homegrown tobacco. And he did have a bit of a smell about him. But, hey, it was July. We were all sweating and not smelling our Sunday best. He was just the kind of character we liked. We knew he'd have some good stories to share.

And, share he did. He talked about Friday nights down at the end of the street where we sat. There's a big parking lot there and it once was home to the Lexington Avenue Farmers Market. According to our new friend, people would come from all over the mountains, to buy and sell their goods. But, mostly, they were there for the fun that started happening about the time the sun went down. Goods sold, bellies full, it was time for a pickin', a dancin' and a visitin'. Folks would stay until the wee hours of the morning, say their good-byes and see you next week.

What a wonderful picture he had created for me. Community farmers, musicians and just the average people coming together to celebrate their culture and simply enjoy one another's company. So after Bele Chere was over, I wrote a column describing what I had learned that weekend. I talked about how Bele Chere was great, but the City could only put on an event that closed so many downtown streets once a year. But why not close down one street each Friday and bring back some of the life and community my farmer friend had described? Downtown Asheville was definitely not the hustle and bustle it is today and any event to get people downtown seemed like a grand idea to me. It would need to be on a different street each week, so as to let people know that there were more stores open than they perhaps realized.

The Downtown Commission had just formed that year and the new leader called and said, "loved your column, now put your actions with your words and let's get something going next year. How about calling it Downtown After 5? Hopefully, we'll get some workers to stay and some others to come down and join in on the fun. I'll worry about the money, the rules and regulations and beer permits. I need you and Alphie to book the local bands and publicize the event as much as you can. So we spent that year readying for the next summer, never doubting for a moment it wouldn't happen. We didn't have all that much money allotted for paying the musicians. It was all a labor of love and a vision of what could come to be.

And, happen it did. Not too many people came out that first year, but we were pleased anyone attended at all. I think we topped out that summer at maybe around 200 people. The first concerts happened in places like on top of the Wall Street or Rankin Ave. parking deck. There was one in an enclosed private parking area over on Broadway which fit about 50 cars at the most. And there was one in front of the downtown library that almost didn't happen. The rain poured. People ran for cover under awnings. And, just when it looked like we'd have to call it off, the skies cleared and the party started right back up.

We were able to do one every Friday during the summer months and I do miss the intimate locations of those first events. Our hands on involvement from that first year changed to simply promoting the event and helping make it as popular as possible. The event finally changed to once a month because it was growing and the logistics for once a week were just too much.

So, we have what we have today. Downtown After 5 attracts thousands of people. There are two bands at each event, one lesser known local band and a better known band, sometimes local. Not always. It's serendipity that it takes place at the old Lexington Avenue Farmer's Market location. My farmer friend would be happy. Every one that I go to, I make a secret toast to him and thank him for sharing his story. Because without that story and his dedication to getting people to vote, Downtown After 5 would not be what it is today.

Learn more about Downtown After 5 here: http://www.ashevilledowntown.org/