Tributes began popping up from around the world too. A group of about seventy ninth graders from Japan who studied English sang “Clouds” for Zach and our family as a year-end project. Another group of high schoolers from Poland did a tribute where several of the kids spoke about how Zach’s story and song inspired them. They ended the video by releasing mini hot air balloons into the night sky.
Boxes and large envelopes filled with cards, letters, and special presents from children across the country started showing up on our front step. One group even sent a Bible with all the children’s favorite verses highlighted. Every day I would bring down the letters and packages to Zach as he was resting after school. There were grocery bags full of them around his nest on the couch, and I often found him sorting through them.
The media attention to the story and the YouTube tributes were humbling and amazing, but the personal responses and messages that we received were what really blew me away. I remember one message from a veteran who suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. He had struggled with the disorder and depression for a number of years and was ready to give up. He woke up one morning in early January and decided it was the day he would commit suicide. Then he saw the “Clouds” video. Somehow the message and spirit of the song penetrated his soul, and he realized his life was worth something. This was not the only message received from people who were considering killing themselves but heard the song and decided not to. They credited Zach with saving their lives.
We received hundreds if not thousands of messages like these from people who struggled with depression. The song really seemed to resonate with people who were in a dark place and weren’t sure where to find hope.
There was another message from a soldier who had been physically and emotionally injured in battle. He hadn’t left his house in years, but after hearing Zach’s song and story, he decided enough was enough! He would go back out into the world again.
Another soldier, not much older than Zach, had recently returned from a difficult tour of combat. The day he saw the “Clouds” video was the first time in several months that he smiled. He thanked Zach for living every day with a positive attitude and ended his message with, “Zach, you saved me.”
God’s plan unfolded before our eyes. He was using a midwestern boy with a simple song to deliver hope to damaged souls and soothe the brokenhearted.
Justin Baldoni was one of those who received that message.
Justin, twenty-nine, was the producer of a series called My Last Days that ran on YouTube’s SoulPancake channel. The series followed people who were terminally ill and focused on what it means to “live while dying.” Justin wanted to inspire people with a message of hope and share with the world how the dying process can be a beautiful, rather than a fearsome, thing.
He had traveled with his girlfriend, Emily, from their home in Los Angeles to Milan, Italy, to meet her family when he fell quite ill and needed to stay back while the rest of the group went out to enjoy the city. He was frustrated. Of all the times to get sick, why did it have to be now?
“It was there, as I lay on the couch, bored, annoyed, and feeling sorry for myself, when God granted me one of the greatest opportunities of my life,” Justin wrote to me. He picked up his phone and randomly tapped the News tab on the screen. The headline read: “Dying Teen Writes Farewell Song” above a picture of Zach. “There he was: Zach. With those deep yet playful eyes and that incredible, captivating smile.
“Suddenly everything made sense, and I felt an eerie sense of calm. I clicked on the link, read the story, and watched the YouTube video. That was it. I knew right then and there why this had all happened. It was like I had been guided to fly around the world, get sick, and slow down just for this moment.”
After reading Zach’s story, Justin knew instantly that Zach should be his next subject for the series. He immediately began searching for a way to reach us.
First Justin turned to Facebook, but Zach had too many friend requests and Justin’s didn’t get through. Next Justin tried tweeting Zach. But Zach had received so many tweets that it was buried. Finally, Justin saw a tweet Zach posted, “A perfect Friday watching The Office.” He immediately got in touch with his friend and partner Rainn Wilson (Dwight Schrute) to tweet Zach. Surely Zach would notice a tweet from the actor who played a character on his favorite television show!
In the end, it was actually Kris from CCRF who saw Rainn’s tweet, and then Justin’s message. She e-mailed me their messages and the links to the SoulPancake videos about other people who had been featured in the series. Rob and I watched all the My Last Days episodes and found them to be beautifully done pieces. They articulated so well how we felt about the way Zach had chosen to live out his last days. Each episode was a message of hope meant to inspire, not just another sad story in a world full of sad stories.
We knew that our family was a good fit for the project. We would be able to tell a piece of our story to a world that needed to see how hope could be found in suffering. But if I’m being really honest, my main motivation was to have a beautiful video of Zach that we could find comfort in when he was gone.
The rest of the family needed to be onboard as well, and I wasn’t sure how they would feel. The media attention brought a new stress into the house that was starting to tax us emotionally. Practically speaking, the media had not intruded all that much on Alli’s, Sam’s, or Grace’s lives. They had only been present for a few interviews. But the exposure made them feel exploited, and they thought it was an unnecessary distraction from what our family really needed: time together.
After everyone had a chance to see all the My Last Days videos, we met in the living room one evening after dinner to discuss the pros and cons.
“I like what I’ve seen. The videos are certainly well done. But is it right for our family?” Sam asked, starting the discussion. “All the media attention that’s come from the song already . . . isn’t that enough?”
“And do we really want a house full of people for a week?” Alli questioned. “Our lives are stressful enough without that intrusion.”
“I don’t think having people around will be that big of a deal,” Grace said. “I think it could be kind of fun.”
“I guess I just want to make sure we stay focused on why we decided to do this thing in the first place,” Sam picked up. “Does it stay within the parameters of our mission, to raise awareness about osteosarcoma, and will it help raise money for the fund?”
Zach remained silent on the topic as he sat on the couch. Amy was over, and he really just wanted to get back downstairs to hang out with her. He also knew it was a decision that would have to be made as a whole family. He would accept whatever conclusion we came to.
“Okay. Well, let’s talk it through,” I started in with caution. I didn’t want my own agenda to steer the conversation, but I really thought we were called to do this.
“Zach, do you want to do this?” Rob asked.
“Yeah. I think it would be cool. But I know it’s not all about me, it’s not even really about us. But we have to decide as a family,” he responded from the end of the couch where he was tucked in the corner with Daisy curled up next to him.
“I can say from my conversations with Justin that he’s a genuine guy,” I said. “He seems to have a higher mission than just making money or a name for himself. He truly wants to change the world with his work, and he thinks our story can help do that. So, Alli, I understand your concern about his motives, but I think his work speaks for itself.”
Alli looked skeptical, but she was willing to listen.
“I know it will be tough having a crew here for so many days. And it will be emotional. Justin made it clear that if you don’t want to be interviewed, you don’t have to be. You can participate as much or as little as you like,” I explained. I knew Alli was under tremendous stress. She was in her last semester at school and was working two internships, not to mention planning a wedding. “But I think it could be an experien
ce that draws us together as a family if we let it.”
Sam sat on the hearth, an elbow resting on his knee and his chin in his hand. “But will this Justin guy help us with our mission?”
“The link for the fund will be placed in the video so people can donate,” Rob said. “And the story will lead people to download ‘Clouds.’ So, yes. The documentary will help us with our mission.”
“Okay,” Sam said, “then let’s do it.”
I called Justin and told him to pack a warm jacket and head to Minnesota.
Twenty-Six
AFTER PLAYING AT THE PARTY, ZACH GOT THE ITCH TO PLAY IN FRONT of more live audiences. One night when Sammy was over, they came to me as I was relaxing by the fire in the living room.
Sammy knelt at my feet and looked up at me, her eyes fixed on mine. I knew I was in trouble. Zach stood off to the side, happy to let Sammy dive in with her powers of persuasion.
“So,” Sammy started in, “Zach and I were thinking . . .” She paused for effect without breaking her stare.
“Okay,” I said with caution, “what’s on your mind?”
“We were thinking it would be fun and an amazing life experience”—another pause—“to take a road trip to Duluth and see if we can get some gigs.”
I about choked. Duluth is the get-out-of-town-for-a-couple-days place to go in the late spring, summer, or early fall for many Twin Citians. But January in Minnesota is brutal. And this particular January had even the hardiest of Minnesotans crying uncle. We’d had one snowstorm after the other, and the temperatures were bone chilling. And that was just in the Twin Cities. Duluth was a hundred sixty miles north of us.
“A couple concerns,” I said. “Where would you sleep once you got up there, assuming you even make it up there, and how are you planning to get gigs?”
“Well, we’re very good drivers, Laura. You shouldn’t worry about that,” Sammy said with a touch of sarcasm. “And we’ll get gigs by just walking into coffee shops and asking if we can play.”
Zach didn’t say a word. He just stood and watched with a look of hopeful amusement on his face.
“What about the sleeping part? You guys are minors, you can’t rent a hotel room.”
This time Sammy looked to Zach for help.
“We’ll just sleep in the car,” he jumped in, trying to save the plan that was quickly falling apart.
“Sorry, guys. The answer is no. Nice pitch, though, Sammy. That stare almost brought me down.” I hardly ever said no to Zach, but this was a no-brainer. Zach had been involved in three minor accidents and ended up in a ditch twice in the last few months. To make matters worse, Zach had confided in me that Sammy’s driving was downright terrifying. There was no way I was going to let him drive the icy roads up to Duluth. We had worked too hard to keep him alive these last three years.
Zach and Sammy left the room dejected, their dreams dashed. Daisy hopped off the back of the couch and followed them out. She didn’t like my decision either. As the kids made their way back down the stairs to the family room, I heard Zach say, “Maybe we could play somewhere around here.”
ATTENDING A CONCERT AT FIRST AVENUE IN MINNEAPOLIS IS A RITE of passage for pretty much anyone who grows up in the Twin Cities. The Varsity Theater in Minneapolis is another. Both venues have hosted some of the most celebrated musicians in the country, and for most local musicians, performing at either one could be considered the zenith of their careers.
A couple of the local radio stations had been playing “Clouds” on a regular rotation. The Current, a local public radio station that showcases local talent, was one of them. They were hosting a huge, multi-night, sold-out event at First Avenue that featured several local artists and bands. A band named 4onthefloor was the headliner for the event, and the lead singer, Gabriel Douglass, had gotten in touch with Scott Herold to see if Zach would be interested in playing “Clouds” with him on the main stage.
Zach was ecstatic! Just seeing a concert at First Avenue was on his bucket list. Playing on the main stage was something he didn’t dare to even dream about.
I was terrified.
First Avenue, the stage made famous by Prince, was a place for seasoned artists. It wasn’t a place for rookies. And now here we were, Zach, Amy, and I, along with our attorney (and now fast friend), Adam, in the green room of this legendary nightclub, waiting for my seventeen-year-old son to get up in front of twelve hundred people who expected something good. It’s one thing to perform for people who already love and support you. It’s quite another to perform for people who don’t know you.
It was time for Zach to go onstage. I handed his guitar to a stagehand as Zach worked his way up the metal stairs with his crutches, doing his best to avoid the bundled cords that ran everywhere. He got to the top of the stairs, and the stagehand traded his guitar for the crutches as Gabriel gave a brief introduction, then stepped back from the microphone and welcomed Zach to the stage.
Once Zach was safely at the microphone, I turned my eyes to the crowd. From my position at the side stage I could see practically the whole venue. The crowd was made up of mostly middle-aged people, not many under the age of thirty-five, so different from the teenagers and families with young children who had made up the audience at the high school events and parties. All twelve hundred faces were aglow with stage light as they waited to see what this seventeen-year-old boy, too young to even get into the place as a patron, was all about.
Some people looked confused. Who was this kid taking up stage time? They were here to see 4onthefloor, not some kid they’d never heard of. I could feel my breath shorten and my gut tighten as my gaze landed on one face after the other that wore the same expression. Oh, I hope Zach doesn’t see those faces, I thought. But then I began to see other faces that held looks of anticipation. They had obviously heard “Clouds” and knew a little about what Zach had been through. I started to breathe more freely when a couple of people yelled out their support.
“Go, Zach!”
“Yea, Zach!”
“We love you, Zach.” Alli’s voice came down from the balcony where she, Rob, and Sam sat.
There was a smattering of applause, then the room went silent as Zach began to play. I turned my attention to my boy, up there on the stage. He had always been so willing to put himself out there to try something new, whether it was a big risk or a small one. Unlike me, he was willing to make himself vulnerable and to make himself accessible to those around him.
Zach wrapped up the song and nodded his head in a brief bow. Then he turned to Gabriel to shake his hand, but Gabriel pulled him into a hug, then grabbed Zach’s hand and lifted his arm in a victorious gesture.
“Let’s give it up for Zach Sobiech,” he yelled into the microphone.
The crowd yelled, clapped, and whistled with enthusiastic appreciation. Zach had done it. He’d played in front of a packed house at First Avenue, and he’d made them happy. He waved to the crowd as he left the stage and handed the guitar to me, where I waited breathlessly on the top step.
Zach grabbed his crutches from where they leaned on the stage rail. A wide, toothy smile spread across his face. He was elated!
“Well! How was it?” I yelled over the music. “Were you nervous when you got up there and saw all those faces looking up at you?”
He made his way to the green room.
“Yeah, at first it was really scary,” he said with a chuckle. “But when I got started, all that scariness went away and it was amazing! I could go right back up there and do it all again.”
At the end of the night when the various artists from the evening were invited to come back up onstage, Zach answered the call. I watched from the side stage as he walked out to mid-stage and stood victoriously with his crutches overhead as the crowd cheered them all on.
It was a dream come true. I was sure nothing could top it. And it was certainly better than some little coffeehouse way up in Duluth. But Zach was ready for more, and this time he wanted to take his band with hi
m.
SCOTT HEROLD FROM ROCK THE CAUSE WAS A FORCE TO BE RECKONED with. He was a passionate man who believed that music should change the world, and he believed that Zach’s mission and message just might be the thing to do it.
“So, I hear Zach and Sammy want to play a live show,” Scott said.
“Yeah,” I said. “They’re thinking about lining up some local coffeehouse gigs.”
Scott nearly fell into hysterics. “You don’t have any idea what’s going on, do you?”
“Don’t I?” I knew he was more right than I was willing to admit to myself at that point.
“Do you have any idea what would happen if the local media got wind of Zach showing up to play guitar at Starbucks?”
“Um . . . guess not.”
“It would be a media circus. Chaos! Just tell him to be patient. I’ve got an idea. I’ll talk to Dan Seeman and Hubbard Broadcasting. Kris and CCRF too. I’m calling in the varsity string here, Laura. Tell Zach to keep his guitar tuned up.”
Twenty-Seven
January 24–27, 2013
THERE ARE A LOT OF PLACES I’D LIKE TO VISIT AROUND THE GLOBE. New York City was not one of them. Even though my first reaction when Dan mentioned at the party the possibility of taking a trip to NYC was positive, the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to go. Something about walking busy streets with hordes of people made this small-town girl cringe. Zach, however, didn’t hesitate. New York was on his bucket list.
Ginny Morris, the chair of Hubbard Broadcasting/KS95, had been in touch with Broadcast Music Inc. (BMI), a music rights management company that represents more than six hundred thousand songwriters, composers, and music publishers (including Ed Sheeran, Adele, Maroon 5, and Taylor Swift, to name a few). The folks at BMI were so moved and inspired by Zach’s story and song they wanted not only to sign him as one of their artists, but also to invite us to come visit their office in NYC to actually sign the papers with a photographer present and give him the whole works. It was treatment most often reserved for bigger, more successful artists. Zach was thrilled, so we were going to New York.
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