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| (I genuflect before your kindnesses) |
However you got here I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I wish there was a way that I could see each and every one of you and let you know how much your support means to me because I was beginning to lose hope. To those of you who are new to Connor's Army - thank you for joining our fight. For those of you who have been a supporter from the beginning (yes, I'm talking to you Justin Tasolides who started the first facebook group so long ago) thank you for staying with us!
Now, for those of you who have read my posts in their semi-regularly schedule you know that I sometimes tend to ramble and go off on stream-of-conscious tangents or I insert lots of amusing (at least I find them to be so) youtube videos and music clips. For instance this one;
And that's truly the way I'm feeling right now because if you're reading this from one of the above mentioned sources, you're one of (as of this writing) 1,121 people who like our Connor's Army facebook page. Of course, if you're not one of the 1,121, why not? You can click on the link above and add us to your likes right now. Go ahead, I'll wait;
Did you do it? Thank you!
So many of you may have joined the Connor's Army facebook page but you don't really know much about us and that's really what this post is all about. You may have joined because you're good friends with someone and they said, "hey, my high school theatre teacher has the facebook page and you should like it becuase I do" or something to that effect. And because of your friendship with that person (or one of my entreaties) you've joined but you're not sure what we're about. Well, I think its about time you knew my story.
For as long as I can remember I’ve been riding bikes and enjoying the freedom they give me. I wish I could say I still ride the old faithful cruiser of my youth but, alas, it has gone the way of most of the other bikes I’ve owned in my life – “lost in transit.”
You see, I grew up traveling around the country and the world as an “Army brat”. Although we did enjoy one long spell in California, as a career Army man my father received moving orders every three years. Inevitably in the move things would be lost – electric basses, favorite clothes, stamp collections, books – and most often it was my bike.
In 40+ years of riding (and who knows how many miles) I’ve only owned two brand new bikes. One was a golden Italian five-speed that gleamed in the California sun and that I promptly crashed into a parked car on the first day in a “look at me, I’m riding a big bike” moment. The other was a black 1989 Peugeot hybrid I bought for myself to get around my college campus, which was stolen after only three months of owning it.
Fast forward to six years ago. Stilly mechanically minded and still not living in the lap of luxury (I’m a high school teacher with three kids) I found myself needing a bike. As it turned out I found a discarded Diamondback Allure frame in a pile of garbage by the side of the road. It had flat bars, the derailleurs and shifters were trashed, the rims were bent and the seat was missing. Suddenly, I had a mission, like the bionic man we could make it faster, stronger, better than it ever was. I began commuting from my home in Northport to Syosset where I work - a distance of between 13 and 20 miles each way - depending on which route I take.
I started doing this fairly regularly and then I found I needed ankle reconstruction surgery. As part of my rehab I hooked my bike up in the basement and rode for hours on end trying to get my ankle strength and stability back. And then everything changed.
Until 2005 my life, I guess like so many other people’s, had been touched by cancer in only distant ways - a grandmother who died when I was a toddler, a rarely seen great-uncle, my Amy's mother’s friend. Even when my biological mother went through her own bout with cancer it was before she re-entered my life in my adulthood, so I learned of it merely as a past occurrence.
Then my wife’s Grandmother Mina died of cancer … and his uncle … and his wife’s aunt … and a close colleague.
And then what I thought would be unthinkable happened.
In 2005 my sister Winona, a single mother raising two children, was diagnosed with cancer. Soon afterwards my sister Angela was diagnosed with a different cancer. In 2006 I got word that my youngest sister TaMara had cancer at the age of 28, and just before Christmas that same year my mother developed a rare and aggressive form of melanoma. To say I was overwhelmed and more than a little pissed off would be an understatement.
Now all of my instincts as a big brother and a son were to fight the enemy and beat it for them - to do something, anything but sit on my ass. But I couldn’t - this was a battle they had to win on their own. And they did.
Nonetheless, I felt helpless and impotent as they struggled valiantly to conquer the disease. I just felt like I needed to do more than simply sit by and wait for news to come that things were going to be alright. I needed to do more than just offer emotional support. I needed to do more than wish that there was something I could do. I needed to take action.
So I turned to one of the things I knew best and began plans for his own kind of war - a peaceful one waged on a bicycle. Yes, I suppose I could have organized a benefit dance concert. Something that would happen once or, if I were lucky, could happen on a yearly basis. A dance concert for life as it were. As someone who has been dancing since my late teens I first thought of that option. But I also realized that in fighting this disease my loved ones had indeed gone through a lot of pain and suffering - in order to truly help them I needed to also go through something to feel what they were feeling.
From the time I was a teenager facing the constant displacement of an army brat, my bicycle had always been the place I felt most at peace, the place I could really think through whatever life threw at him. Now I decided to use it fight the disease that was attacking MY family.
And Connor’s Army was born.
Of course, I'm not a pro. At the time I was riding for fun and exercise, occasionally joining the local Huntington Bicycle Club for weekend 50-milers or their annual century. I also knew that I couldn’t afford to leave my job to do a several thousand mile fundraiser. So instead I pledged to ride my bike to work and dedicate this daily commute to raising funds for the American Cancer Society in gratitude of the fact that it was through research and tests that came about as a result of ACS funding that allowed my family to win their battle with this damn disease.
I rode in all kinds of weather, got hit by a van (on the same day as the prom - which I was attending as a chaperone), and did a lot of thinking. People kept thanking me, often telling me about someone they loved who was also fighting cancer; and I began keeping a list of all the people I was riding for as the miles slowly added up.
By December 31, 2007, with 53 names on what we now call The List, I'd cycled 2,154 commuting miles and raised a bit over $12,000 for ACS. In addition my eight-year-old daughter Sarah had started her own fundraising campaign, Connor's Army Junior, and raised an additional $1,000 for ACS.
In the fall of 2008 Syosset High School dedicated their annual homecoming week school walk-a-thon to a place I had never heard of - Sunrise Day Camp. I became intrigued by this camp and what they were doing for children. Unfortunately, by the time I found out all about the camp I had already made plans to work at another day camp as a drama specialist. However, I kept finding myself drawn to this camp and what they were doing. I found that it's a very special place where children with cancer and their siblings can come free of charge to enjoy a summer filled with fun, friendship, and activities - things often denied them by the demands of their medical condition. At Sunrise they can escape the waiting rooms, the lab work, the check-ups, and the chemo-therapy; and simply be children in the sun.
And finally, in the summer of 2010 I began working at Sunrise Day Camp. Working with the children there and getting to know their families has affected me deeply. Seeing the joy these children feel at just being able to be a regular kid, not "the kid with cancer". Being able to attend a camp where no one gives them a second look because they've lost their hair or because they have a stint in their chest. Having a five-year-old kiss me on the head on my last day of dance class with her and thank me for playing with her for the summer.
Watching these children go through a battle even adults find it difficult to face is both heartbreaking and inspiring. But I have seen with my own eyes the difference this special place makes in lives filled with pain and uncertainty. I have seen the joy spread across the face of a fourteen-year-old who has never really swam before finally (after weeks of constant, daily and frustrating work) being able to go up to "the deep pool" with the rest of his teenage friends. I have seen kids who have never acted before find their dramatic voice and discover they really are good at this drama thing.
And by the end of that summer a plan had begun to form in my mind - and now as a result we are well on our way an even more ambitious ride than the first one. To help this camp I'm going to do one of the things I do best.....ride my bicycle!
| Queen - Bicycle Race .mp3 | ||
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 | Found at bee mp3 search engine |  |
During the summer of 2012, with my family as my support team and (HINT, HINT) the occasional riding partners, I'll be cycling 3,600 miles across America to spread the word about Sunrise and help raise much-needed funds to keep up their year-round programming.
My fundraising goal? $50,000! Enough to send eight kids with cancer to eight weeks of camp!
I'm not naive - I know I can’t compete with people who raise millions of dollars for cancer research, but this coming summer I'm doing what I can to fight the war against cancer one mile at a time ... all 3,600 miles of it between California and New York!
I'm looking for sponsors and I'm hoping to connect with people who can help me raise the funds to send these kids to camp. Anyone interested in helping can go to the Connor's Army Ride Across America link on the Sunrise web site and contribute online. Or sponsors can contact us through our web site at http://www.connorsarmy.org/. Any money that sponsors give us to underwrite the cost of this event will be used only for gas, lodging and food for me. The support team will be paying their own expenses.
And I'm not doing it on some super fancy bike like the one the writer from the New York Times used on his recent trip. No, I'll be riding on a steel frame bike I dug out of the trash six years ago. As time has gone by I’ve engaged in more dumpster diving, e-bay purchasing (much to the chagrin of my wife) and online mega bike stores to create my current “Frankenbike”, affectionately known as Black Pearl because she’s completely black and, like the ship in the “Pirates” movies, she’s not pretty but she’s fast. She’s my main commuter bike, and I would say in the last six years I’ve probably put on 7,000 miles on her commuting the 25 mile round trip between my home and school.
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| (Steel is Real - and Black Pearl is going to make it 3600 miles!) |
Because whatever we get from sponsors that we don't use - we're going to add it on top of the pledges we get for Sunrise - sort of like the cherry on top!
So that is my story. Again, I want to thank you from the bottom of my soul for liking us, supporting us, believing in our mission to help these kids and for making more of a difference in my life than you will ever really, truly know.
Stay well and I'll see you on the road!
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