After Ed was finished with interviewing Rob, Alli, Grace, and me, they went down into the family room and interviewed Zach and filmed him playing guitar while Sammy sang and Mitch played the cello. After they had finished and were packed up and ready to leave, Adam told us he expected the segment would air early Friday morning, around six thirty central time, and that, unless a big news story broke, it would probably run several times throughout the day.
Everyone got up early on Friday morning to watch our segment. It was strange to watch ourselves on the screen, mostly because it wasn’t that big of a deal. We all thought they had done a nice job covering the story and were pleased that they had mentioned the fund and our desire to raise awareness for Zach’s disease. I was secretly relieved that the piece focused more on the music and how Zach turned to writing songs as a way to say good-bye to everyone than on his relationship with Amy.
My folks called to say they had seen it, and I was getting Facebook messages and texts from people throughout the morning who had also seen it and were happy to see the coverage of Zach and his story. As I was on the phone, I looked up to see the news coverage had switched to an event that was underway in Newtown, Connecticut. I hung up the phone and watched as reports came in that a shooter had entered Sandy Hook Elementary School and several children and teachers were thought to be dead.
I sat stunned as the pictures flashed on the screen of mothers and fathers who waited to see if their children were okay. My heart ached for those who had lost their beautiful babies, mothers, sisters, and brothers in such a violent and evil way.
They never got to say good-bye.
Twenty-Four
December 15, 2012
IT WAS THE DAY OF ZACH’S PARTY, AN EVENT WE’D PLANNED FOR several months. The weather was ominous; it was cloudy and rainy all day with temperatures threatening to dip below freezing, which meant icy roads and maybe snow. It was to be Zach’s last hurrah—the party to end all parties. A sort of prom, graduation party, and wedding reception all rolled into one as a way to celebrate Zach’s life while he was still here. We had bands scheduled to play throughout the night, all of them our friends, and most were Zach’s high school friends. Loads of people came together to make the party a success. Everything from the venue to the soda in the coolers was donated.
Earlier, Sammy and Zach, along with their friend Reed, on percussion, had finished recording several songs for the CD that we’d decided we were going to use as a fund-raiser. We were going to burn the CDs at home and had a simple design planned for the covers that we would make. But when I mentioned our idea to Dan Seeman from KS95 and Karl Demer from Atomic K Records, who had both worked on getting “Clouds” recorded, they wanted to get involved. Karl agreed to make a master of the CD and got in touch with Ron, a gentleman he’d worked with on different projects over the years, who was willing to help us with reproducing the CD. Dan engaged a graphic designer from the station to do the CD cover. What we ended up with was a beautiful and professionally produced CD titled Blueberries under the band’s name, A Firm Handshake. The cover was a picture of Zach strumming his guitar with a smirk on his face, eyes turned downward, and Sammy singing. The CD featured a few cover songs by a couple of their favorite artists along with their own original recordings of “Blueberries,” “Fix Me Up,” the acoustic version of “Clouds,” and the produced version. It was Zach and Sammy’s first CD.
Before the party started, we did a quick interview with a local television news reporter who had picked up on the “Clouds” video, which had almost a million hits by that time, and wanted to run a story about the community coming out to support Zach. Once we finished, we opened the doors and let the party start. It was an open invitation, and people poured into the dance hall. All night there was a line out the door as people waited to get in. We couldn’t see across the room it was so full, but everyone was having a fantastic time. There was no sadness in the room, just pure joy.
Zach was surrounded all night by new fans and old friends. I could see that he was exhausted. It had been a crazy couple of weeks, but he was happy. He was with people who loved him.
We told all the people who had helped us out with recording the CD about the event, but I knew it was a tough time of year, right before Christmas, to give up a Saturday night to attend a party for someone they barely knew. So I was thrilled to see Karl and his three young boys and wife walk in the door. Just a couple of weeks earlier, Karl’s wife found out she had skin cancer, which made the fact they came out to join us all the more extraordinary. We both found it interesting that our first meeting took place just days before her diagnosis. Karl would tell me later, after Zach died, that Zach’s example of facing down the disease had uniquely prepared him to handle his wife’s battle.
Our attorney, Adam Gislason, who had volunteered hours of his time to help us get Zach’s music registered and the song copyrighted, was there with his wife; and Ron, who had donated over a thousand copies of the CD, came out in the nasty weather to be with us as well. Melissa, Zach’s nurse practitioner who had been with us from the beginning, came with her husband and three-year-old son. Her little boy loved “Clouds,” and he was thrilled to have a chance to meet Zach.
Later in the evening, Rob worked his way through the crowd and found me by the photo booth as I waited in line with my brothers and sisters. All seven of us were determined to cram inside the thing.
“Scotty Herold is looking for you,” he yelled over the din.
“Who’s that?” I yelled back.
“He’s the guy from Rock the Cause, the one who Kris from CCRF and Adam told us about. I’ll go find him and send him your way.”
We had so many people come together to work on getting the song recorded and the CDs out that I started to lose track of who was who. It boggled my mind how much time, talent, and resources these people were willing to give. But I wasn’t quite sure what part Scott played.
As I stumbled out of the photo booth, a gentleman who looked to be in his forties and was dressed in a “Rock the Cause” T-shirt, jeans, tennis shoes, and a sport coat waited for me.
“Hi, Laura, I’m Scott Herold with Rock the Cause. I just wanted to introduce myself and tell you what an honor it is to be able to work with you and Zach,” he said as he extended his hand. He must have picked up on the blank look on my face.
“We’re a nonprofit organization that works with music artists to set up charitable digital music distribution through the largest digital distributor called The Orchard.” My face was still blank. “I’m the one who got your son’s music on iTunes yesterday and on sale in one hundred forty-six countries around the world,” he said with a smirk.
The light bulb finally went on in my head. We had kicked around the idea with the people from CCRF of somehow figuring out a way to get “Clouds” on iTunes with all the proceeds going to Zach’s fund. No one at CCRF had experience in the industry, but Kris had a friend, Scott, who had seen the video “Sharing the Load with Zach” posted on her Facebook wall. He was so moved by Zach and Amy’s love for each other that he dug into the story a little more and found the “Clouds” video. He loved the song.
“Hearing ‘Clouds’ was like a lightning bolt of divine grace had hit me,” Scott would later tell me. He knew immediately he wanted to do whatever he could to get the song out into the world. He contacted Kris, and within seventy-two hours the song was on digital music websites across the globe.
“Anyway, I heard about this party you were having for Zach and I thought I’d drop by and introduce myself,” he said as he handed me a bag of Rock the Cause T-shirts. “I met Zach a few minutes ago. I have to say, I am astounded by your son’s strength and grace. You must be very proud of him.”
“I certainly am,” I responded. It seemed God had some big plans for “Clouds,” and Zach’s story would reach a few more people than I could have ever hoped for.
“Well, I’m not usually the type to hang out at these kinds of things. I know, weird for a music guy. B
ut the spirit of this thing is just amazing. I think I’ll stick around for a while and listen to the bands.”
“Zach’s on after this next band. He’ll be playing ‘Clouds.’ ”
He definitely wanted to hear Zach, so he traveled off into the crowd to take in the energy that was onstage. It was finally time for Zach and Sammy. The two of them looked at home up on the stage; it was obvious they loved what they were doing and belonged there. They played “Blueberries” and “Star Hopping.” The crowd loved it and let them know with cheers of approval. I looked across the room to see Karl, a seasoned music veteran, standing up near the stage with his three boys, who were up way past their bedtimes, with the same look of awe on all of their faces. And there were Ron, Adam, and Scott all cheering on this boy they had just met, but whose spirit had affected them in a profound way.
They came to the end of the set, and Sammy stepped up to the microphone.
“I’m guessing that most of you know a song called ‘Clouds.’ ” The crowd cheered, and Sammy turned to Zach, who stood waiting with his guitar slung over his shoulder. “Well, he wrote it, and he sings it, and he’s going to do it right now.” She reached over and slapped Zach on the arm as she stepped away from the microphone.
Zach adjusted his capo on the guitar and strummed. Everyone who hadn’t been on the dance floor squeezed forward until the place was a sea of faces turned toward the stage. Everyone stood still and silent as Zach played. It was like a spirit of peace rolled out of him and over the crowd. I looked back from where I stood up close to the stage and watched their faces as they listened to the song. It was like they were hearing a story, and Zach was the storyteller.
After the last note was sung, the cheers from the crowd were deafening. They had come to celebrate life with a boy who was preparing to die, and he had just sung them his good-bye song. It was a moment that defined what our lives had been the past several months, the joy and sorrow of watching a boy live while dying.
I snuck away for a few minutes after the performance. I needed a little time to let my emotions settle before I went back out to field the congratulations from the crowd. These moments of joy were so tightly woven with the sadness of the long good-bye, and sometimes the potent emotions needed to wrestle it out in private.
The crowd began to dissipate, and the cleanup began. I was out on the dance floor letting loose with a couple of friends and a group of teenagers after a long night when Dan Seeman walked in. I was mortified. The general manager of one of the largest radio stations in the Twin Cities had just witnessed me doing my best Zumba dance moves out on the floor. I sheepishly walked over to where he stood, pushing my sweaty bangs off my forehead.
“What an amazing party,” he greeted me, the slight gap between his two front teeth exposed by his wide smile.
“You should have seen it a half hour ago.” I laughed as I extended my hand. “The place was packed wall-to-wall!”
“Ah! I know! I wish we could have been here earlier, but I had a work party that we had to attend,” he said, regret on his face as he turned to the pretty blond woman with an open, friendly face next to him. “Laura, this is my wife, Cyndy.”
“Hi, Cyndy, so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for making your way all the way out here, especially with the crazy weather we had today.” I was impressed they had driven an hour out of their way just to come for a few minutes and show their support for Zach. I called Rob and Zach over.
“Zach.” Dan reached a hand out and pulled Zach into a hug. “So good to see you again! Looks like you had an amazing night. I wish we could have been here to watch you perform.”
“Yeah, it was pretty amazing. I’m totally blown away by all the people that came out tonight.” One of Zach’s friends tugged on Zach’s arm; he was wanted across the room. “Thanks for coming!” he called over his shoulder as he was led away.
Rob and I chatted for a bit with Dan and Cyndy. We talked about the party and what a grand success it was. We laughed at the energy Zach still seemed to have as he danced out on the floor.
“So, how would you feel about heading to New York City?” Dan inquired. “The folks at BMI have heard about Zach and are interested in signing him as one of their artists.”
My jaw dropped. “Are you kidding?” I knew Zach would love it and would jump at the opportunity. “I guess we’re headed to New York!”
THE BIG PARTY WAS OVER, ALL THE ANTICIPATION AND EXCITEMENT of the night behind us, but the memories were sweet as we talked about them over the next several days. I’d been so busy planning the party that I hadn’t spent much time thinking about Christmas. I was looking forward to spending some quiet time with just our family.
We had decided before the CNN interview that we would keep the weeks around Christmas sacrosanct and block out the outside world. We didn’t want anything to intrude on our last holiday with the whole family together. It was a special time, but also bittersweet. It was another “last” on the list, so the cheerfulness was mingled with equal amounts of sadness. It can be a hard and sometimes awkward thing to balance the two.
Zach felt it too. He had asked for recording equipment and a mixing program for his computer. He wanted to be able to record songs at home. But he knew he wouldn’t have much time to use it and felt a little guilty asking for something so big. As he opened the gift on Christmas morning, I watched a range of emotions play out on his face. He exuded a sense of childlike joy as he pulled out the pieces of equipment, but at the same there was a deep sadness in his eyes.
We all felt the same thing. Each happy moment was tainted with the sadness of wondering what it would be like next year, after Zach was gone.
As we did our best to live in the moment and focus on the joy that was present, Zach’s story began to make its way around the globe, and people were listening.
Twenty-Five
January 2013
AFTER THE NEW YEAR, MEDIA INTEREST PICKED UP STEAM. WE received calls almost daily with some type of interview request for television, radio, blog, or newspaper.
Most of the Internet coverage was repurposed from the newspaper articles that had already been published, as well as from the CNN and local television stories. All the calls were small intrusions into our normal daily routine, but they required energy and time. Zach and the rest of the family ran low on both.
Every day when Zach got home from school, I would list off the new requests of the day. Eventually, when things got to be too much to handle on my own, the folks at CCRF worked with us to vet the calls. That left me spending my evenings perusing the Internet for the latest media coverage. It was easy to tell which countries had recently seen the story based on the comments that would be posted on the “Clouds” video website. We started to get messages on our CaringBridge and Facebook sites from people all over the globe who wanted us to know what an impact Zach’s song had made in their lives. Brazil, Poland, Czech Republic, Russia, and Japan were a handful of the countries we received comments from.
“I burst into tears having watched this video. It’s so grossly unfair!!! I’m at a loss for words . . . Poland’s with you, Zach.”
“People from Czech Republic are with you too. I will pray for you every day—I promise. Remember that hope dies last!”
“Zach, I am from Russia and I have listened to your song . . . It is stunning, magnificent . . . We can only admire your soul’s strengths. I am sure your song enforced all listeners to feel what you feel and to understand the situation.”
I was touched by the wide range of people who were affected by the song. Children, teens, men, and women all responded in very similar ways. They were moved by a sad song that somehow inspired hope. Even the critics noted that the song’s catchy melody drew you in to hear an incredibly sad yet hopeful message. But there were, indeed, critics.
The first negative message we received after “Clouds” was posted on YouTube was from an anonymous writer (the most hurtful comments always come anonymously) on our CaringBridge site. It read
something like: “Zach, you’re just another kid with cancer. You’re not that big of a deal and you don’t deserve all the attention you are getting. But I like your song.—anonymous”
It made me laugh. For a moment I thought how funny it would be if Grace had been the one who had posted it. She’d always had a way of admiring Zach but making sure he kept things in perspective. I thought it was funny, too, that despite the obvious jealousy, Mr. or Ms. Anonymous couldn’t help but admit that the song was good.
Cover versions of the song began to pop up on the Internet as well. Days before Christmas, the sixth-grade class from a local grade school posted a video of themselves singing “Clouds” as a tribute to all those who lost their lives at Sandy Hook Elementary in Connecticut.
“My students love this song! We sang it as a tribute to the kids in CT. We have been tracking the view numbers for math class and praying it will hit a million by tonight. Look for my students to sing it for their 6th grade graduation in Minnesota. The students also get excited reading comments from around the world. Keep spreading the LOVE!”
A few days later, a group of girls from the same class stood on a street corner in downtown Stillwater, a beautiful river town just a few miles from where we live, and caroled to raise money for Zach’s fund. They raised over five hundred dollars. The girls came to our home the next day and presented Zach with the money.
I loved watching Zach at times like those; it was where he really shined. He was genuinely grateful for what the girls had done and was gracious about letting them know just how much he appreciated their efforts.
“Whoa! You guys didn’t have to do this, but you did and that’s awesome,” he said as he gave each one of the girls a hug. The girls were obviously thrilled. He had a way of lighting up a room with his presence but always made the others who were there feel like all attention was on them. “I mean it, you guys. This is really awesome.”
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