00;00;00;00 – 00;00;25;10
Marc Moss
Welcome to the Tell Us Something podcast. I’m Marc Moss, founder and executive director of Tell Us Something. We are currently looking for storytellers for the next Tell Us something storytelling event. The theme is hold My beer. If you’d like to pitch your story for consideration, please call (406) 203-4683. You have three minutes to leave your pitch. The pitch deadline is December 7th.

00;00;25;12 – 00;00;29;07
Marc Moss
I look forward to hearing from you this week on the podcast.

00;00;29;10 – 00;00;47;16
James Crosby
Someday you’re going to be cool. That is what the rebellious older sister says to her younger brother. Towards the beginning of Almost Famous, my rebellious younger sister did not share that same positive outlook.

00;00;47;18 – 00;01;02;15
Aaron Miller
A couple of weeks later, mom got me into private speech therapy in order to improve some of my speaking, reading and writing. And mom was also told that I was not going to be able to read or write in my life. When she first found out I had autism.

00;01;02;17 – 00;01;16;15
Marc Moss
For storytellers to share their true personal story on the theme. Never again. And it’s a party. Everyone’s dancing. Everyone singing along. Strangers are kissing each other. Hugging. Everyone’s just. It’s a celebration.

00;01;16;17 – 00;01;34;07
Karna Sundby
I realized that I was in the middle of this horrific storm. Suspended from a few sheets of ripstop nylon. It’s funny how there’s not fear, how logic kicks in when you’re making decisions that may possibly save your life.

00;01;34;09 – 00;01;55;09
Marc Moss
Their stories were recorded live in person in front of a packed house September 18th, 2024, at the George and Jane Denison Theater in Missoula, Montana. Tell Us Something acknowledges that we gather on the ancestral lands of the Salish, Kootenai, and Pender peoples. These lands have been inhabited for millennia, shaped by the wisdom and stewardship of the First Nation peoples.

00;01;55;11 – 00;02;21;18
Marc Moss
We acknowledge the historical and ongoing trauma inflicted upon indigenous communities, including the forcible removal from their lands, the destruction of their cultures, and the systemic injustices that continue to persist. As we honor the indigenous people who have called this place home. Let us commit to learning from their traditions and values a tangible way to do that. If you live in Missoula, Montana, is to visit the Missoula Public Library on Friday, November 1st.

00;02;21;18 – 00;02;48;19
Marc Moss
Missoula Public Library hosts a First Friday event highlighting native art and culture, showcasing the library’s permanent collection. That event kicks off four weeks of programing celebrating native American Heritage Month. A tooltip will be installed on the Harrison Children’s Library. They will unveil an exhibit of the Salish Kootenay Seasonal Round that gives children a new interactive learning tool. They will also debut a new collection of indigenous books and materials.

00;02;48;21 – 00;03;19;04
Marc Moss
Stop by the library or visit Missoula Public Library Board to learn more. Tell us something. Stories sometimes have adult themes. Storytellers sometimes use adult language. In our first story. Listen to James Crosby share his disastrous sailing camp experiences and life changing moments as a lifeguard. James shares his journey of self-discovery and resilience, and discovers how a seemingly simple act of kindness led him to finding his true calling and inspire others along the way.

00;03;19;04 – 00;03;27;28
Marc Moss
In a story that he calls too big to sail. Thanks for listening.

00;03;28;01 – 00;04;11;07
James Crosby
Someday you’re going to be cool. That is what the rebellious older sister says to her younger brother. Towards the beginning of Almost Famous, my rebellious younger sister did not share that same positive outlook. I had no shot at being cool. All the things you needed to do to be cool. I was not good at seeing. When I turned 13, I had gone through a growth spurt that was kind of like one of those Play-Doh pasta presses.

00;04;11;09 – 00;04;17;23

My limbs just shot out of my body.

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And I was a total liability on the sports field. I was kind of like, if the wacky inflatable arms guy had a jersey on.

00;04;28;22 – 00;04;29;29

His.

00;04;30;01 – 00;04;36;16

Nice defense. James, I’m on your team. Well.

00;04;36;18 – 00;05;01;25

So I had yet to find my thing. I had yet to find the thing that would make me cool. But if I was signing your yearbook, headed into the summer. That summer that I turned 13. I knew that my time was coming because I was looking forward to sailing camp, sailing camp last summer. This is when I was 12.

00;05;01;25 – 00;05;30;24

I had gone for the first time. It was the Chesapeake Bay and you couldn’t have been further from the ocean. It was great because I had just started watching Shark Week. So sailing was not a great choice. But we overcame that because my goodness, I got it. Port side. Port. Port. That’s left. Left. Nice starboard. I like starbursts, I opened them with my right hand.

00;05;30;24 – 00;05;54;11

Starboard. Starburst. Right. Yes, I got it. I could tie some knots, like. All right. That’s pretty good. And when we finally got into the boats, I kind of understood how the wind worked. And, boy, that feeling when you got going downwind and you tacked so the wind caught the other side of the sail and the boom swung over your head and caught the wind.

00;05;54;11 – 00;06;23;25

And you felt the power of the boat surged forward. The sun on your face, the wind, the sound of the water on the hull of the boat. I was in it, and there was nobody else I could disappoint. It was just me out on my boat. The captain of my craft. It was great. The things that I had to endure with sailing camp also included golf.

00;06;23;27 – 00;06;34;22

It hurts when you swing in with. It hurts even worse when you hear somebody behind you go. Ooh!

00;06;34;25 – 00;06;59;16

And then there was tennis. Tennis? I was the only camper to ever lose an entire game on the serve. I was serving up nothing but disappointment. I was so bad that after I lost this entire game, I went to practice my serve against the fence. And I just hit the ball straight over the fence, across the road, into the pool.

00;06;59;18 – 00;07;25;15

Nobody wanted me on my team. Nobody wanted me on their team. I didn’t want to be on my team. Let’s be honest. So finally it came time to sail and I was so excited. I was so excited. Except as a as a camper. I was there towards the end of the summer, so a lot of the other campers, they were there the whole summer and this summer that I returned.

00;07;25;17 – 00;07;55;16

I noticed that the people I had been sailing with last summer had moved on to bigger boats. Suddenly the people around me were a lot smaller, and when I went to set up my boat that year, I noticed that the mast was kind of short. In fact, the whole gear was unusually easy to carry over, and when I finally set up my boat and shoved off shore out into the great wide open of the Chesapeake Bay, once again, this is far from the ocean.

00;07;55;19 – 00;08;24;16

You could probably stand the whole time, but there I was, out on my boat, and when I went to tack to turn the boat, when the boom was supposed to go over my head, this time it hit me right in the arm, and I wrestled the boom over my head and pushed it out to the other side, at which point the boat had turned back into the wind and the boom came right back.

00;08;24;18 – 00;08;41;05

Knocked me into the back corner of my craft, and I took on some water. Yikes. All right, so I’m bailing it out and the booms coming around, and I try to push it around, and I fall back and I take on some more water. And before I know it, I hear the thing that still chills me to my soul.

00;08;41;08 – 00;09;13;04

It’s the recovery boat coming out to say, hey, are you okay? If you have to say, are you okay? I am not okay. And as they dragged me back to shore, waist deep in water because I couldn’t fit on the recovery boat while they held the sail, the look from my peers was mortifying. I did fail upwards, though.

00;09;13;05 – 00;09;39;18

I became somebody else’s problem. I was too big to sail, so they put me in the bigger boats. That didn’t make me a better sailor. Now I just had two other people in the boat with me. Luckily they were also bad at sailing, so I wasn’t really letting them down. We were all figuring it out. Well, at the end of the week it came time for the Gibson Island Regatta and we had accomplished nothing.

00;09;39;23 – 00;10;02;27
James CrosbyIn fact, our boat was so bad that by the time we thankfully crossed the finish line, the other boats were already rigging up on the beach. But there were only three boats in the race that day, so we got a medal.

00;10;02;29 – 00;10;28;26

I still felt like a loser, but I was so bankrupt of mojo that when the cute girl at camp asked me to go to the dance, I said no because once again, the wacky wavy inflatable arms guy was not on the dance floor. I promise. So I vowed at that time I would never sail again until years later.

00;10;28;28 – 00;10;48;27

I had become a lifeguard. Now I became a lifeguard because I thought lifeguards were cool and in a pool. I didn’t really have to swim because I could stand just about everywhere. So I had become a lifeguard and I took it very seriously. And my sister was also a lifeguard, and she could assure you that I was still not cool.

00;10;49;00 – 00;11;12;27

And one day I met a guy who would change everything. I saw this guy get up onto the diving board with his son and throw his son from the diving board into the water and from across the pool. I was like, it’s time, I gotta go. So I went cruising, sir. Sir. And his son was flopping in the deep end.

00;11;12;28 – 00;11;35;12

Looked like he was drowning. And as I get closer, he pops his head out of the water. He’s got this huge smile on his face and he’s swimming as though, oh my gosh, okay, what’s happening? And the guy on the diving board is laughing and he’s laughing. He says, hey, it’s okay, we do this all the time. This is my son Josh, and Josh has cerebral palsy.

00;11;35;14 – 00;11;57;20

He can’t get around grade on land, but when he’s in the water, he can do his thing. And Josh is a daredevil. He doesn’t want to get into the shallow end. He wants to get chucked in to the deep end. So it turns out Ross says, hey, we’re looking for lifeguards. Are you looking for some extra time, some extra help?

00;11;57;20 – 00;12;08;14

And I said, yeah, I think that that could be cool. And he says, actually, it’s a, it’s a windsurfing program. Do you know how to sail?

00;12;08;16 – 00;12;18;10

Well, Ross, I got third place in the Gibson Island Regatta. I,

00;12;18;12 – 00;12;40;07

So I show up for my first day on the job, meet the other instructors. They’re all really cool. We’re all getting along. And this camp is for kids with disabilities. And the whole thing is to get them out on the water, to get them to move in ways that they can’t on land. And my job as a windsurf instructor is to use this adaptive windsurfer.

00;12;40;09 – 00;13;05;01

It’s two long, skinny windsurfers with a sheet of four foot by eight foot plywood in between. It has two sails. The front sail is for the instructor to work the sail, catch the wind and move us around the back. Sail a much smaller one is for our athletes, kids in wheelchairs, kids that can’t move around. Sometimes the only thing they can move is one finger.

00;13;05;01 – 00;13;31;06

And my job is to get that one finger on the boom so that they can feel the wind catch the sail. They can feel the boat surge across the water. They can hear the water on the hull, and if the wind moves the wrong direction, I’m there to block the boom. That was something I was super qualified at.

00;13;31;09 – 00;13;50;18

So whatever it took for me to get to that point was something I was happy to endure, because the look on those kids faces made it all worthwhile.

00;13;50;21 – 00;14;21;11
Marc Moss
Thanks, James. The oldest and tallest among dozens of first cousins, James Crosby oddly and infuriatingly found himself outmatched in many backyard sports. He earned scores of nicknames Stone hands, Butterfingers, flood pants, all apt descriptions of his athletic prowess and giraffe like physique. After years of searching for the thing that could make him cool, a summer job with Access Sport America taught him to be something better.

00;14;21;13 – 00;14;56;17
Marc Moss
To learn more about the adaptive programs at Access Sport America, visit go access.org. In our next story. ‘s autism diagnosis doesn’t define him. It fuels his determination. From speech therapy to high school theater, Aaron overcomes his challenges and proves his capabilities. Aaron believes that disabilities aren’t limitations. They’re opportunities for growth. Aaron calls his story growing up. Thanks for listening.

00;14;56;20 – 00;15;26;07
Aaron Miller
Sorry I was laughing too hard. From James’s story. So I have less of a story and a little bit more of a statement. So a lot of people think of mental disabilities such as autism, ADHD as bad. But I’m going to say they’re not. And I’m not saying that because I have one of my own. I’m saying because it’s true.

00;15;26;09 – 00;15;56;17

And here’s why. So when I was four. Mom had just found out that I had autism, and she had absolutely no idea how to react. My brother was born three years before I was, and he does not have anything like autism or ADHD or even anything that he got later in life. like PTSD or anything like that.

00;15;56;20 – 00;16;17;10

So mom had no idea how to react. A couple weeks later, mom got me into private speech therapy in order to improve some of my speaking, reading, and writing. And mom was also told that I was not going to be able to be able. I’m sorry. I was not going to be able to read or write in my life.

00;16;17;18 – 00;16;39;25

When she first found out I had autism. So a couple of weeks later, she signs me up for private speech therapy in order to improve my speaking, reading, and writing because I was already doing it. But I sucked at it with because I was four years old.

00;16;39;27 – 00;17;08;16

So I was not happy. I did not think it was for me because I thought it was stupid. So I was not looking forward to the first day. So we first go in and we’re brought into this really small waiting room. And to the left is a hallway that leads to a bunch of other people’s offices. And then straight ahead is a hallway to the back of the building, which is like a playroom.

00;17;08;18 – 00;17;33;20

So I get in and after waiting a little bit, I get introduced to a mentor named Margaret. And she takes me and my mom over to her office down the left hallway. And then she starts asking mom a couple questions. Mom starts asking Margaret a couple questions. And then she starts asking me a couple questions. And then at some point, she had mom leave the room.

00;17;33;22 – 00;17;57;29

This was when I was extremely uncomfortable. I did not get defiant, which is good. But I was still very uncomfortable. So mom leaves the room and on the inside I’m like, help! So Margaret continues to ask a couple of questions such as spell this, pronounce this. Can you write this down? And it wasn’t that long of a trial.

00;17;58;02 – 00;18;20;10

Once we were done, I was excited that I was going to be going home because it was all over. And then mom broke the news to me and said that I had to come back. I did not want that to come. And then I found myself a couple weeks later back into the building with Margaret, with mom not in the room.

00;18;20;10 – 00;18;24;12

And I still thought it was done.

00;18;24;15 – 00;18;50;22

At this point, Margaret started doing something that she did consistently almost every time I saw her. She would show me an iPad and on it would be an animated sequence picture. You’re like picture. You’re in a classroom and you’re taking any kind of test, math test, history test, whatever. You’re taking a test and you need to sharpen your pencil because it just broke.

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But the teacher said that you can’t get up, so you can’t get up and sharpen your pencil. Even though you just asked the teacher. So you either have the option to get up when the teacher isn’t looking and sharpen your pencil. Kindly ask again if you can sharpen your pencil, or just get up and start screaming.

00;19;17;15 – 00;19;33;12

I first had no idea what to do with these situations because they were always the same thing. It was always an animated problem. Problem comes up and then it gives me three choices and one of them’s correct. I had no idea what to do with these because I had just started kindergarten.

00;19;33;15 – 00;19;36;12

So I was.

00;19;36;15 – 00;19;50;00

So Margaret started guiding me through them. And when I started to learn what the right answers were, I started clicking the wrong answers on purpose.

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I was always like, okay, it’s not okay to yell. I’m going to click the yellow button.

00;19;55;13 – 00;19;58;11
Karna Sundby
Boink.

00;19;58;14 – 00;20;22;20

And Margaret always had to tell me that that was wrong and always had to tell me why that was. And then she started doing a sort of reward system. Every time I got one of them right, she would give me access to this Batman set that was in the corner of the of her room. It’s like a Barbie doll house, but it’s the Batcave, basically.

00;20;22;22 – 00;20;44;08

So I would get one, right? And then let’s say she gives me, like, the Batman action figure, and then I get another one. Right? And she would give me, let’s say, one of Batman’s gadgets and so on. And I started to enjoy it, and I actually started to learn. And mom started to find me speaking, reading and writing.

00;20;44;08 – 00;21;13;11

Over time. Eventually I started seeing someone else named Ed, and he worked a little differently. So something that he did most of the time was he would turn on his computer and he would open a Google doc, and then he would turn on the text to speech setting. And then what we would do is that we would have a normal conversation with each other, and then he would see how much I was talking and how well I was talking.

00;21;13;13 – 00;21;26;19

My little kid brain exploded. When I found out that it was operated by my voice, he turned it on and I was immediately like, hi, my name is Aaron.

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How are.

00;21;27;04 – 00;21;51;23

You? So we did that a couple times, and I started to have fun at speech therapy because I saw people like Ed where we had fun on the computer, we saw people, or I saw people like Margaret, where I got to play with her Batman set and go through her iPad and stuff with those animated things, whatever you want to call them.

00;21;51;25 – 00;22;15;17

And I also saw someone else named Alana, but the problem is that I saw her the least, so I don’t remember what she did, but she’s going to be important later. So keep her in mind. I’m not joking when I say that. So about six years later, I took a break from private speech therapy, and at this point I had moved across town.

00;22;15;17 – 00;22;46;06

My family had just met another family, and then we moved in. And now we’re just one big happy family, as they call it in the Disney things. So we move in together. But in the process of moving, I had to switch schools. I went from Lolo to the other side of Missoula near the airport, so I had to go from Lolo School to Hellgate Elementary and things got a little rough from there.

00;22;46;08 – 00;23;10;17

Fifth grade was my first year there, and kids would immediately start going up to me and they would find out very quickly that I had autism. And when they did, they would avoid me. They avoided me. They would lie to get away from me and I would even get home. Sometimes crying because I always thought I had no friends or anything.

00;23;10;19 – 00;23;42;17

So but over time, I actually managed to find friends, and those friends even doubted me at first. So I still found friends and everything was going okay. And then Covid came. Yeah, Covid sucked. So Covid came for all of sixth and seventh grade. I did not see my friends as often as I could, and I was always stuck in classes with kids who always made fun of me.

00;23;42;20 – 00;24;07;17

And the worst part was that that’s the key thing, is that they made fun of me. They did not just tease me. They would say they wish that I got Covid first and that I would. Maybe there were some kids who said that they wish I would even die from Covid. And it was not good. Again, I would get home crying.

00;24;07;20 – 00;24;20;00

Thank you. I would get home crying. And the problem was that mom could not do much because of the Covid policies. So I had to sit through this.

00;24;20;03 – 00;24;47;18

But through it all, I never gave up. When I first moved across town, I started writing about my dreams and practice, and I was self-taught writing. I did homework. I did research. I’ve written like essays and everything like that at school, and I’ve proved that I’m really capable.

00;24;47;21 – 00;25;10;09

Sorry. My train of thought derailed. I proved that I’m really capable. I have passed with straight A’s since seventh grade, and I’m now in my junior year of high school.

00;25;10;12 – 00;25;34;24

So ever since I got into high school, no one has doubted me. I first joined the theater department after hearing what my brother and sister always said, because they did theater before me. So I did it, and everyone else was very similar. They had autism, ADHD, dyslexia, all of this stuff. So I fit in pretty well and I was given a chance.

00;25;34;24 – 00;25;47;12

I’ve had people come up to me and say, hey, do you want to be in this piece that I’m doing? So I have passed with straight A’s and I’ve proved that I’m capable.

00;25;47;15 – 00;26;02;02

And now I am the house and facility manager at big Sky High School for the drama department, which is really important.

00;26;02;05 – 00;26;39;01

So through all of this. It was a rough ride. I will say, now ask yourself this is one’s disability a chance to improve? Yes. If very much is. I have gone through so much. But never again will I let my disability change me in any way again.

00;26;39;03 – 00;26;59;15
Marc Moss
Thanks, Aaron. Aaron wanted me to add that Ed and Alana were in the audience that night, and he ran out of time while telling his story. He wants to acknowledge them and again pass along his gratitude to them. was born and raised in Missoula and currently goes to big Sky High School. He loves dogs, performs being outside, and making close friends.

00;26;59;17 – 00;27;19;14

Aaron tries his best with work, people and even himself. In the summer, he works as a camp counselor for Missoula Parks and Recreation. Aaron has had four family members before him participate in other Tell Us Something events and is proud to join the ranks of Tell Us Something storytellers. Coming up after the break and it’s a party. Everyone’s dancing.

00;27;19;14 – 00;27;26;13
Marc Moss
Everyone singing along. Strangers are kissing each other. Hugging. Everyone’s just, hey, it’s a celebration.

00;27;26;16 – 00;27;43;24
Karna Sundby
I realized that I was in the middle of this horrific storm. Suspended from a few sheets of ripstop nylon. It’s funny how there’s not fear, how logic kicks in when you’re making decisions that may possibly save your life.

00;27;43;26 – 00;28;04;23
Marc Moss
Remember that the next Tell Us Something event is January 13th. You can learn about how to pitch your story and get tickets at Tell Us something.org. Thank you to our story sponsors who help us to pay our storytellers. The Good Food Store. For more than 50 years, the Good Food Store has been Missoula’s homegrown independent source for natural, organic and locally sourced food.

00;28;04;25 – 00;28;39;14

Learn more at Good Food store.com. And thanks to story sponsor Parkside Credit Union, whose mission it is to be the best place for people of western Montana to get a loan. Learn more at Parkside fcu.org. Thanks to our accessibility sponsor SBS solar, allowing us to provide American Sign Language interpretation at the live event. SBF solar stands at the forefront of the solar energy revolution, with over 30 years of industry experience specializing in custom solar design and installation for both residential and commercial applications.

00;28;39;21 – 00;29;06;17

SBS solar is committed to promoting energy independence and environmental sustainability. Learn more at SBS linc.com. And thanks to our workshop sponsor, Wide Tide Designs, helping us to feed our storytellers at the group workshop. White Tie Designs is a woman led art and design studio that produces colorful spaces and stunning artwork that fosters positivity and empowers individuals to be their best selves.

00;29;06;19 – 00;29;30;27

Learn more at Wide Tide designs.com. Thanks to our media sponsors, Missoula Events dot net, where you find all the good things that are happening all over Missoula and Missoula Broadcasting Company. Learn more about them and listen online at Missoula Broadcasting company.com. Thanks to our in-kind sponsors. Float Missoula. Learn more at float msl.com and choice of tile. Learn about Joyce at Joyce of tile.com.

00;29;30;28 – 00;29;56;28

All right, let’s get back to the stories. You are listening to the Tell Us Something podcast. I’m Marc Moss. Our next storyteller believes in the power of storytelling so much he founded Tell Us Something in 2011. That’s right. Our next storyteller is me. I call my story. Is anybody alive out there tonight? Thanks for listening.

00;29;57;01 – 00;30;28;16
Marc Moss
Go to your room. So I did. My 14 year old self is stomping up the stairs, silently cursing my dad. Some perceived transgression of mine. Maybe I put the dishes in the dishwasher incorrectly. Maybe I forgot to put the vacuum cleaner away after I vacuum the living room. I don’t know anything could have set him off. I walked into my room and I punched play on the tape deck and.

00;30;28;18 – 00;30;53;06

Lights out tonight. Trouble in the heartland. Got a head on collision. Smashing in my guts, man. Caught in the crossfire. That I don’t understand. But there’s one thing I know for sure I don’t give a damn for the same old played out scenes. Man I don’t give a damn for just the in-betweens. Honey, I want the heart, I want the soul, I want control right now.

00;30;53;08 – 00;31;10;15

You better listen to me, darlin. Talk about a dream. Try to make it real. The end up in the night with a fear so real. You spend your life waiting for a moment. That just don’t come.

00;31;10;17 – 00;31;15;07

Bruce Springsteen.

00;31;15;09 – 00;31;31;14

And Bruce Springsteen got me through that moment. He got me through lots of moments in my life. He got me through my first love. The only lover I’m ever going to need is your soul. Sweet little girl. Time.

00;31;31;17 – 00;31;57;14

He got me through loneliness. Like a river that don’t know where it’s flowing. Took a wrong turn. And I just kept going. And so loving somebody like that so much. Somebody. Music. You want to see him perform? And Bruce is a poet. He’s a dreamer. But really, he’s a storyteller. And he puts on 3 to 4 hour shows.

00;31;57;16 – 00;32;04;08

And I saw him from every tour from 1988 to 2005.

00;32;04;10 – 00;32;29;20

Not every show, but I grew up in Cleveland, so it was easier than here. And in 2005. Well, first of all, the shows were amazing, and I loved them so much that, in Gardiner, when I lived in Gardiner, Montana, I drove 11 hours. I didn’t have a car. And so I was in the back of a pickup truck 11 hours to Fargo, North Dakota to go see him.

00;32;29;23 – 00;32;36;11

You can listen to that story on the Tell Us Something website. I taught it a long time ago.

00;32;36;13 – 00;33;02;07
I even got to see him at Giants Stadium in New York City. I didn’t know I was going to be in New York this like 2003 ish in that neighborhood. And I called my Aunt Tina, who introduced me to Bruce, and she was like, hey, don’t buy a ticket. I was like, what are these scalpers? Okay, so I get on the train from Manhattan and I go to Giants Stadium, and I walk into the parking lot kicking rocks.

00;33;02;07 – 00;33;18;05

I got 20 bucks in my pocket hoping for the best. And this guy walks up, he’s like, do you need tickets? And I’m like, yeah. He goes, I know how much you’re out there. He goes, 30 bucks. I go, here’s ten. And he’s because you need their money. So he’s like, I can’t do it. I was like, okay.

00;33;18;05 – 00;33;32;26
Marc MossAnd I’m like turned to start walking away. And he’s like, wait a minute, I can do it. So I gave him ten bucks. This reporter walks over to me, hey, I’m from the New York Times. I’m doing a story on scalpers.

00;33;32;28 – 00;33;59;14

No lie. You can go to the New York Times website and read. photographer from Missoula, Montana, Marc Moss, had this to say. That’s true. But I didn’t get to see the Seeger Sessions tour. So in 2005, Bruce put together this 18 piece band brass band, and did a cover of, an album of Pete Seeger songs. And Joyce got to see the show.

00;33;59;18 – 00;34;24;13

Way before I knew Joyce, she was living in New Orleans right after Hurricane Katrina, and she was working at this restaurant right near the track where Jazz Fest happens. She got out of work, and she just walked right in. So 2012, now we’re married. She calls me at work. Mark, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band are headlining Jazz Fest this year.

00;34;24;15 – 00;34;50;16

The Wrecking Ball album had just come out. I’m like, buy some plane tickets, we’re going to New Orleans. So we go to New Orleans. We’ve got friends there. We’re sitting at Louise’s by the track eating red beans and rice. I ask her, did you buy tickets? She goes, no, it’s Jazz Fest. Don’t worry about it. I’m like, look, if we’re going to do this show, we might get divorced.

00;34;50;18 – 00;35;15;27

I mean, it’s important. Yeah, I was exaggerating, but I mean, it’s really I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that, like, I couldn’t just go buy the tickets myself, but I wasn’t thinking about that. And so she sort of breaks down later like minutes later, I don’t know, an hour later, goes down, buys tickets. 20 minutes later, for the first time in history, Jazz Fest sells out.

00;35;16;00 – 00;35;37;06

So eventually, you know, Jazz Fest comes around, we go to the show, it’s hot, it’s New Orleans, it’s June, it’s sweaty, it’s there’s no shade anywhere except for this one tree. And we’re sitting under this tree, and it’s 3:00 in the afternoon. And Bruce goes on at four, and doctor John’s playing, and I’m like, let’s go. We should start walking over to the stage.

00;35;37;08 – 00;36;01;03

Enjoys this like it’s Jazz Fest. Don’t worry about it. I’ve never been to Jazz Fest. I’m worried about it. I’m like, it’s like quarter after three. Can we just. I want to go see Doctor John. I’ve seen Doctor John, she says, but I haven’t. I say I want to see him. So it’s like 3:45. I start walking over there without all my people.

00;36;01;03 – 00;36;19;23

I don’t know, whatever. They’re just going to do what they’re going to do. They start to follow me. We get to the closest we can get, which is nowhere close. We’re going to have to watch the show on Jumbotrons, like from here to across the street outside the dentist. And that’s how far away we are. And I’m pissed.

00;36;19;25 – 00;36;41;03

I’m grumpy. I’m frustrated. I’m trying not to let it wreck my afternoon. I’m trying to be present and get ready for the show. But it’s hot outside and my hand is swelling up and my ring and my wedding ring is stuck on my finger. And I. It’s not like I want to take it off because. But my hand is hurt, my finger is hurting, it’s swelling and I’m starting to freak out.

00;36;41;03 – 00;37;02;06

And people are offering me ice. And this woman comes running over. Don’t put ice on it, she says. It’s going to make it worse. She pulls lotion out of her purse and she starts putting it on my finger, and she’s rubbing my finger, and she pulls my ring off and Bruce Springsteen walks out onto the stage. Thank God she gives me my ring back.

00;37;02;07 – 00;37;35;16

I put it in my pocket and it’s a party. Everyone’s dancing, everyone singing along. Strangers are kissing each other. Hugging. Everyone’s just. It’s a celebration and brings us through pain and heartache and sex and rock and roll and party and just so that you’re Clarence Clemons, the saxophone player and Bruce Springsteen’s best friend had died and Jake Clemons clearance his nephew had to fill in.

00;37;35;16 – 00;37;52;15

And during Born to Run, there’s a line. The change was made uptown and the big man joined the band. And at that moment, the show stops and a big slide show shows up selling vibrating clearances. Life.

00;37;52;17 – 00;38;12;23

He finishes the song and then he sings another song about the dead. If you’re here, they are here. If you’re here, they’re here. If you’re here, they’re here. We’re here together. It’s like a gospel revival.

00;38;12;25 – 00;38;40;28

So we walk out of the show and Joyce goes, I get it, I get it now. So we drive to Portland and see him there, and we get into the show. We’re close this time. We’re right up near the stage. And at that moment where the change was made up time and the big man joins the band like he stops the show again.

00;38;41;04 – 00;39;06;21

Except this time he has this long catwalk out into the audience, and he’s out on the catwalk and he turns around and he’s watching the show, you know, with us, the the slide show. And then this magical thing happens. He falls backwards off the stage into the crowd. The crowd catches him and he’s crowd surfing. I knew you were going to do that.

00;39;06;24 – 00;39;17;23

Crowd surfing across all of us. I got to grab his ass.

00;39;17;25 – 00;39;37;17

He gets up, back up onto the stage, and he’s, like, patting himself down like I did somebody steal my wallet? Ha ha. And he pulls out a phone out of his pocket and he’s surprised by it. Someone had shoved their phone into his pocket, and he takes a selfie and you’re like, throws it to the roadie. Roadie catches it and he goes, hey, if that was your phone.

00;39;37;18 – 00;40;01;06

Go get it after the show. Like, you don’t get that on a CD. You don’t get that streaming. You don’t get that on an album. You don’t get that you’ve been watching a video. That’s real connection. And I’m never going to get to see it again. Because his ticket prices are out of reach to readers. And then. And the plane fare because he’s not coming here.

00;40;01;08 – 00;40;34;16

So what I’m left with is gratitude that I got to see him so many times and experience that level of connection. So many times. And one of the things that he says during the show is, is anybody alive out there tonight? You tell me.

00;40;34;18 – 00;40;56;04

Thanks. Me! I am the founder and director of Tell Us Something and live with my wife Joyce, and our kitten Ziggy on Missoula’s North Side. Rounding out this episode at the Tell Us Something podcast. Can’t somebody get swept up in a windstorm while skydiving? Peer pressure in borrowed gear led to a harrowing experience in a story that she calls my Last Jump.

00;40;56;06 – 00;41;04;07

Thanks for listening.

00;41;04;09 – 00;41;33;15
Karna Sundby
There I was, hanging 1200 feet above the earth in gale force winds. And this is no shit. And that, my friends, is how a good skydiving story begins. It’s true. I was dangling from a parachute in the middle of a storm, being swept up the valley toward Snowbowl ski area. The next day’s Missoula in front page would read 59 mile an hour, winds wallop.

00;41;33;16 – 00;42;07;20

Western Montana skydiver lost up Grant Creek. It was August 15th, 1988. And what a great day it had been. It was a reunion of the silver Chip skydivers, which was a club at the University of Montana in the 60s and 70s. The party was happening at Grant Creek, in a meadow equipped with barbecues, kegs and a Cessna 180 that was taking off and landing all day to give these old skydivers the chance for another free fall together.

00;42;07;22 – 00;42;32;22

Although I had made well over 300 jumps with this club, I had no intention of making a skydive today. It had been ten years and I had never flown one of these fancy square parachutes that everyone was now using. And the ripcord wasn’t here anymore. It was down here someplace. And the parachute. Did you, just in case of a malfunction, wasn’t here where you could see it was behind you someplace.

00;42;32;24 – 00;42;58;15

So, no, everything was so different, and I was not going to jump. And then my friends started saying, come on, it’s going to be so much fun. Come on. The sunset is going to be so pretty from up there. So with that little bit of peer pressure, I changed my mind and was soon donning borrowed gear. I was wearing somebody else’s jumpsuit that was too big, somebody else’s rig that wasn’t comfortable.

00;42;58;18 – 00;43;22;07

Somebody else’s soft leather helmet. Unlike the hard motorcyle type helmet that I was accustomed to my own gear I had given away ten years earlier, and I loved it. Every time I looked up at that and saw that beautiful white and blue parachute, I felt like I was with an old friend who had safely landed me in so many different drop zones.

00;43;22;09 – 00;43;50;14
Karna Sundby
We had jumped into the oval at the University, into fireworks stands over the 4th of July, into weddings and rodeos and football games. I loved it. But this gear was so unfamiliar, and it had been so long that I said to the three guys I was with and this jump today, I’m going to dump high, which meant I’m going to pull my ripcord earlier than you pull yours.

00;43;50;16 – 00;44;15;09

Maybe 1000ft earlier so that I have a longer parachute. Right? So that in the unlikely event that I have a malfunction, I have more time to deal with it. So we were climbing into the plane, and my buddy Andy ran up with a hard helmet and said, wear this instead. It’ll be safer. So I swapped the soft leather one off my head for the harder, safer pair helmet.

00;44;15;12 – 00;44;37;29

And little did I know how grateful I would later be for this kind gesture. We took off and the plan was to go up to 8000ft for a 32nd freefall, but at 5000ft, the tower from the Missoula airport called us and said, if you’re going to go, you better go right now, there’s a big storm rolling in. So we looked out the open door, the airplane.

00;44;38;00 – 00;44;49;18

We could see these huge black clouds on the horizon. So we jumped.

00;44;49;20 – 00;45;14;19

It was incredible to be in freefall again. I had forgotten how much I loved this, and we were doing relative work, which meant we were flying together, holding hands, making a circle that was falling through the sky. Epic. Our parachutes all opened successfully and I was having so much fun flying this smaller, faster chute called a pair a plane.

00;45;14;21 – 00;45;33;01

I took the goggles off my eyes and clipped them on top of my helmet so I could feel the breeze in my face. I looked down and I could see the other three guys lower than me, getting ready to make perfect landings in the meadow. And my approach was all set up. I was going to have a great landing as well.

00;45;33;03 – 00;45;58;05

When suddenly I was moving backwards. Now this parachute had 32 miles an hour forward speed and I was being blown backwards. And then suddenly I was being buffeted around by this heavy, heavy winds. I looked down at the ground. I looked at my altimeter and saw I had gone up a couple hundred feet, which just doesn’t happen with this kind of parachute.

00;45;58;08 – 00;46;20;08

I realized that I was in the middle of this horrific storm, suspended from a few sheets of ripstop nylon. It’s funny how there’s not fear, how logic kicks in when you’re making decisions that may possibly save your life.

00;46;20;10 – 00;46;46;15

My first thought was maybe I’m caught in winds aloft. So I cranked a toggle, a steering line hard to make the parachute spiral down fast to get out of such winds. But no, I was still being blown backwards. So my second thought was, where can I possibly land? In those days, at the base of Grant Creek, there were just a few neighborhoods, and then it was forest all the way up to Snowbowl.

00;46;46;17 – 00;47;13;00

So I looked over my shoulder and in the forest I could see three homes with pretty big yards. And I thought, well, maybe I’ll land in one of those yards. And then I thought, no, they’re probably surrounded by electrical wires. I’ve never flown this parachute. It’s just too dangerous. So way up there. I had seen a clearing closer to Snowbowl, and I decided to turn and run with the wind and see if I could make it to the clearing.

00;47;13;02 – 00;47;31;10

Now you know that my parachute had 32 miles an hour forward speed. And you know that the winds had been clocked at 59 miles an hour. So you can do the math. I was screaming up that valley.

00;47;31;12 – 00;47;55;17

I didn’t make it to the clearing about 25ft above treetop level. I turned back into the wind because it would be better to land going 30 miles an hour backwards than to downwind it forward at 90 miles an hour. Fortunately, I remembered the tree landing protocol I had learned when I trained with the Silverton skydivers back in 1970.

00;47;55;20 – 00;48;20;19

You cross your legs like this and your arms like this, because one of the many bad outcomes of this situation was that I could land on top of a dead lodgepole pine. Skewered through some vulnerable body part and bleed to death.

00;48;20;22 – 00;48;36;26

But no. I was crashing through the lodgepole pines, branches, debris, twigs going everywhere. And I remember thinking, damn, I wish I was still wearing my goggles.

00;48;36;28 – 00;49;10;01

I thundered in and landed hard on the ground feet, but head hard enough to crack my pelvis. And without that helmet, I wonder if I would have cracked my skull. The wind was so intense that my parachute was still inflated and it was dragging me through the trees. And I reached up and started pulling the harness down. And then the harness is connected to the parachute by shroud lines, and I’m pulling the shroud lines down, trying, trying and trying to collapse the parachute.

00;49;10;03 – 00;49;36;25

Finally I got it deflated and I scooted back and laid on top of it so it wouldn’t re inflate. Eventually the wind subsided. I tried to stand up and that’s when I knew my leg was broken. So there’s nothing I could do but wait. As dusk approached, I try not to think of lions and wolves and bears on my.

00;49;36;27 – 00;49;48;00

And with a little prayer in my heart that went something like. What if you get me out of this one, I promise never again.

00;49;48;03 – 00;50;13;23

Meanwhile, back at the party, that storm hit hard and fast and was being blown all over the place. And my friends are me being blown away. So they jumped into their vehicles and raced up the road to rescue me. Now, in one of those three homes I had seen from the air, a family was was gathered out on their front porch watching this spectacular storm.

00;50;13;25 – 00;50;19;24

And they saw me fly by.

00;50;19;27 – 00;50;49;05

And then a little bit later, they saw my friends drive by. So they started shouting. He went that way. Lucky me. At least they would be looking on the correct side of the road. It was probably over an hour before they found me. And all I can say is thank God for shark. And when they did phone me, they showed me this big branch that I had apparently broken off a tree which had apparently broken my leg.

00;50;49;08 – 00;50;57;28

I call it a limb for a limb situation.

00;50;58;00 – 00;51;24;17

They firemen carried me out of the forest and drove me to the emergency room at Saint Pat’s Hospital. And, I didn’t know if the medical insurance I had at my job would cover a skydiving injury. So I told them that I’d been playing Frisbee.

00;51;24;20 – 00;51;29;29

And ran into a bench.

00;51;30;02 – 00;51;56;10

I also didn’t know that search and rescue had been called out to locate me. So you can imagine my surprise when this burly sheriff’s deputy comes walking into the exam room. So broke your leg, she said. I nodded. And you were up Grand Creek, were you? I said and you were playing Frisbee were you? And you ran into a bench did you.

00;51;56;13 – 00;52;01;13

Low flying bench. She asked.

00;52;01;15 – 00;52;09;23

And that’s no shit.

00;52;09;25 – 00;52;32;23
Marc Moss
Thanks. Karna. Karna Sundby has always been on her own unique uncharted past. Her curiosity and spiritual quest has taken her to places that most people would find bizarre, wondrous or enlightening, depending on their personal life experience. The one word they would never use to describe Kanha is boring. Karna’s gift and curse is being fearless. Thanks for listening to the Tell Us Something podcast.

00;52;32;25 – 00;52;47;01
Marc Moss
Remember that the next Tell Us Something event is January 13th. The theme is hold my beer. Learn how to pitch your story and get tickets at Tell Us something.org. Tune in next week to hear the concluding stories from the Never Again live storytelling event.

00;52;47;03 – 00;53;14;06
Jesse Ballard
I distinctly thought about the doll house in the corner, the horse mural on the wall. And so when I started to wake up from that nighttime nap, I was really surprised to look around and see thorn branches instead of that childhood bedroom wall. The meadows are there. They’re up to our knees in color and riotous glory. It’s a misty day, so we aren’t hurt.

00;53;14;14 – 00;53;42;10
Betsy Funk
It’s cool. And the mist has made the flowers scream at us. It’s glorious. And I’m hiking with my dog. Thank goodness for the open mouth piece. Right? Yeah. So I’m throwing up everywhere, and all of a sudden, the crowd of kids just falls completely silent.

00;53;42;12 – 00;53;48;17
Sydney Lang
And a kid goes, hey, that’s my grandma’s costume that you’re throwing up in.

00;53;48;19 – 00;53;59;28
Marc Moss
Listen, for those stories at tell us something Short or wherever you get your podcasts.

00;00;10;01 – 00;00;35;00
Marc Moss
Welcome to the Tell Us Something podcast. Tell Us Something is a nonprofit that helps people share their true personal stories around a theme. Live in person and without notes. I’m Mark Moss, your host and executive director of Tell Us Something. Have you ever felt that tug towards a place, a memory, or maybe even a person? That feeling of going home, that feeling of going home isn’t just about a physical location.

It’s about belonging and connection. It’s about finding that piece of yourself that’s been missing. On this episode of the Tell Us Something podcast. We explore all the different ways we come home to ourselves and the world around us. We’ll hear stories of journeys, of second chances, of rediscovering what truly matters. So buckle up and get comfy. Join us as we embark on these heartfelt adventures.

This episode of the podcast was recorded in front of a live audience at the Glacier Ice Rink and Pavilion on June 11th, 2024, as part of the Missoula Pride celebration. Eight storytellers shared their true personal stories on the theme Going Home.

00;01;19;02 – 00;01;30;05
Michelle Reilly
It was like looking through the most beautiful kaleidoscope I had ever looked through all these vibrant colors and shapes and patterns of fractals and wonder.

00;01;30;05 – 00;01;48;03
Adel Ben Bacha
As she answers the phone, she softly says hello. And then silence. That silence felt like forever. But she breaks that silence with a delicate sob.

00;01;48;03 – 00;01;59;15
Zeke Cork
I didn’t know what it meant, but I couldn’t shake it. I thought maybe it was about my family, so I try to write about it, but there was always something missing. It stayed with me for years.

00;01;59;15 – 00;02;06;01
Ashley Brittner Wells
The coolest thing you could do in town was go to the games. And I desperately wanted to be cool, so I went.

00;02;06;01 – 00;02;37;00
Marc Moss
That’s coming up. We are currently looking for storytellers for the next tell us something storytelling event. The theme is Never Again. If you’d like to pitch your story for consideration, please call (406) 203-4683. You have three minutes to leave your pitch. The pitch deadline is August 9th. I look forward to hearing from you. We’re also looking for volunteers to help with the event.

If you love Tell Us Something and you love helping out, visit. Tell us something. Morgan. Volunteer to learn more and to sign up.

We were gathered at the Missoula County Fairgrounds in the heart of Montana amidst the vibrant energy of early June. As we remembered that we took a moment to acknowledge the traditional stewards of this land. We stand on the ancestral homelands of the Salish and Kalispell, people who for countless generations have nurtured and cared for this place. The place of the small bull trout.

Their deep connection to this land is woven into the very fabric of this valley. We honor their resilience, their knowledge of the natural world, and their enduring presence here. Acknowledgment alone is not enough. Let’s also commit to taking action ways that you can do this if you live in Missoula, or to learn more about the native tribes who still inhabit this land.

You can visit the Salish Kootenay College or the Missoula Children’s Museum to deepen your understanding of the Salish and Kalispell cultures. You can visit the Missoula Art Museum, where the exhibit We Stand with you. Contemporary artists. Honor the families of the Missing and Murdered Indigenous relative crisis runs through September 7th, 2024. You can support cultural events hosted by local tribes and explore opportunities to volunteer with their initiatives.

We can always be looking for opportunities to incorporate indigenous knowledge and practices into our everyday lives, whether it’s sustainable land management or traditional food systems. We can commit to moving beyond mere words and work towards building a more respectful and inclusive future. Honoring the legacy of the Salish and the Kalispell people on whose land we stand.

Remember this. Tell us something. Stories sometimes have adult themes. Storytellers sometimes use adult language.

We ate. Tell us something. Recognize the privilege inherent in our platform and while we love sharing a variety of voices, it’s important to amplify marginalized voices. That’s why during the event on June 11th, I stepped back and passed the mic to our friends from Missoula Pride. Devin Carpenter, who shared his story at last year’s event, and Kiara Rivera from the center, performed the honors of seeing the evening’s event.

On the podcast, you’ll hear them giving the bios for the storytellers.

Michelle Riley finds herself homeless in 10th grade in a challenge that begins a lifetime of challenges after earning a PhD. Despite her alcohol use disorder, she struggles to overcome addiction and finds unexpected hope. In an online ad, sensitive listeners, please note that Michelle’s story contains mentions of suicidal thoughts, which may be distressing for some listeners. Please take care of yourselves.

Michelle calls her story heroic measures. Thanks for listening.

00;05;41;05 – 00;06;29;18
Michelle Reilly

I found myself homeless for the first time when I was in 10th grade. My sisters and I came home from school and our father’s truck was parked there. But our father was never home this time of day. So we walked inside. Hello. Hello. No answer. We walked up the stairs and the door to my parent’s bedroom was cracked, so we pushed it open and my father was there, kneeling at the foot of his bed with all of his guns, a row of guns laid out neatly on his bed.

My mom was gone. She left. See, I grew up in a small town in rural Appalachia, and my parents were young parents. My mother had three daughters by the time she was 21. So I guess by 35, she didn’t want to be a mother anymore. And home became not so homey anymore. I started sleeping at friends houses or sleeping in my car.

Sometimes I didn’t sleep at all because by 11th grade I was working 3 or 4 jobs. I’d rotate between two afterschool jobs, and then I’d go to work third shift at a diner. And diners in Appalachia weren’t the most wholesome place for a 16 year old girl to be. So I dealt with far too many sexual propositions from older men.

There. I’d get off at 6 or 7. I’d go to school, shower in the locker room, and then I’d sleep either in homeroom or in my car. And I don’t remember thinking about these things. It was like I was just on autopilot doing them. After high school, I started undergrad with the same unwavering autopilot and schedule. I was working 5 or 6 jobs and taking 18 to 21 credits a semester.

And I was introduced to the underground rave scene in Pittsburgh and started experimenting with party drugs. I was also drinking a lot during this time and sleeping even less. I’d started drinking at a young age after my mom left, and I was given a fake ID, but I lived in a small town, so I’d frequently run into friends of my father’s at dive bars, but they knew his mental state after my mom left, so either they never told him or if they did, he was too depressed to say anything to me.

After undergrad, I moved to Reno and started living out of my car again. And then at 27, I applied to grad school and earned a master’s of science from Johns Hopkins University. And then I was offered a research position. So I moved to Flagstaff and earned my PhD and four years.

Underneath the accomplishments and overcome struggles. I was completely empty and numb, still completely out of touch with any emotions and just doing doing all the things that I know needed to get done. Doing all the things I needed to do without feeling anything. And during this time, I was still drinking a lot like a fifth whiskey a night was not uncommon.

I was still over performing at work, exceeding expectations and producing high quality products. But my behavior was erratic and my emotions were frequently uncontrolled outbursts of sobbing or rage. And I felt that uncontrollable spiraling. It’s like I was in a dark box and there wasn’t a top or bottom, and there wasn’t a way out of this box because the box was everything.

It’s like those car compactors at scrap yards. The force and pressure needed to smash a car into this tiny package of metal. That force and pressure is what it felt like all around me, all of the time in this torque box. And I couldn’t climb out of this box because the darkness was everything.

It was so isolating and I felt so alone. I became completely dysregulated and at times suicidal and really lost hope.

One day I was scrolling through Instagram and I felt an emotion, a glimmer of hope, a tiny seed deep down that I barely felt safe acknowledging. I filled out an online form for a clinical trial titled Psilocybin Treatment for Major Depressive Disorder with Co-occurring Alcohol Use Disorder.

Fast forward several long months of getting physicals, providing psychological examinations, getting bloodwork and providing a detailed drinking history. And I was told I was accepted into this trial. I started meeting twice a week with my guides, a licensed social worker and a psychologist. And there wasn’t a single meeting that I didn’t cry at, just endless tears streaming down my face.

But hopelessness was still. I felt.

On September 18th, I walked into the Johns Hopkins Center for Psychedelic and Behavioral Research for my last Credos interview, and I was asked a series of questions on a scale of 0 to 10, how important is it for you to change your drinking right now? Ten? On a scale of 0 to 10, how confident are you that you can change your drinking right now?

At this point in my life, I felt like I had drank more days. I’d been alive than not drank, so my confidence was pretty low. I think I gave the question a 3 or 4. More evaluations and discussions and meditating. And then I was handed a wooden chalice and I put on a blood pressure monitor. I shades and headphones and I waited.

And if you’re familiar with psychedelics, the dose I was given was a high dose. It’s what they call a heroic dose.

The music began to entice and overwhelm me, and I was being pulled by curiosity into a world completely unfamiliar to me. Although I had a fair share of experience with party drugs, I had no experience with psychedelics.

I began to see so many fantastical things and found myself invited deeper and deeper into my internal psyche. So many interesting patterns and curiosities and a feeling of weightlessness.

It was like looking through the most beautiful kaleidoscope I had ever looked through, all these vibrant colors and shapes and patterns of fractals and wonder.

The texture of the music became the vibrant colors, and I could feel all these colors and patterns in a very intense way. The kaleidoscope became five dimensional and the universe became five dimensional. And I was a part of that.

I could feel so much depth and breadth and heights, but also time both forward and backwards and resonance. And every cell in my body was suddenly alive and vibrating with the resonance of these mutating colors and the kaleidoscope. My body became warm and endless without boundary, and I felt so much openness, like an untethered ring. Like the layers just being pulled off of me.

All that crushing heaviness. That only thing that I had felt for so long was being pulled out of me and lifted off of me and replaced with this beautiful radiance. And this warm, golden light was being poured into me and filling me and spilling out around me into this beautiful reflective pool. At some point, I don’t know the timeline, but I felt as though I was being embraced by the universe, and I felt a presence.

And I felt this presence tell me or show me that I was not alone, that I was being held, always held, and that I was loved. And I saw darkness from my past in a new light. But I felt safe there, and I felt as though I was not alone. But I was being guided through this darkness and fear was replaced with curiosity.

I explored unending time and a continuum of life, and I felt more at home than I had ever felt in my entire life. The details of the experience are inexplicable, as often is said about life changing psychedelic experiences. It was ineffable. I had one other treatment three months after my first, and I have not had the urge to numb reality through drinking since my first session.

I still carry with me that peace and comfort I felt during my first session, and I’m learning a new sense of self filled with generosity and acceptance. And I’m so grateful that I found my way home to my self-worth.

00;16;36;03 – 00;16;52;04
Devin Carpenter
Michelle Reilly is a wilderness specialist and wildlife ecologist who has lived in Missoula for 8 years. She is a wildcrafter, avid backpacker, and devoted mother. If she isn’t deep in the mountains or paddling the rivers, you can find her in her yard tending her gourmet mushroom gardens. She also runs a Missoula Ladies’ Dinner Club and enjoys entertaining in her backyard. Sensitive listeners, please note that Michelle’s story contains mentions of suicidal thoughts and the her father contemplating suicide, which may be distressing for some listeners. Please take care of yourselves. Alright, please welcome Michelle Reilly.

00;16;52;10 – 00;17;06;17
Marc Moss
Up next Adele Ben Boccia shares a vivid tale of family nostalgia and a life changing phone call that redefines the meaning of home. Adele calls her story plus 206. Thanks for listening.

00;17;06;17 – 00;17;35;07
Adel Ben Bacha
Hello, everyone. Before I tell you my story, I would like for all of you to close your eyes, at least for one part, because I want this to be a shared experience. So my story takes us back. Eight years ago in France, in the little city of my family and I are all gathered for a Thursday dinner, as my mom loves to make them.

Everyone understands what she has prepared for dinner. It’s everyone’s favorite meal, a delicious couscous that looks like perfection. So she’s in the kitchen. We are all in the living room. We are a big family of eight people, and I’m the youngest in the living room. You can hear the loud voices, some jokes being thrown at people, and very loud and heavy arguments.

So she’s in the kitchen. The dish is getting ready, and as she brings the plate in the living room, everyone just stops. They’re astonished by this red vivid color. This color comes from the spices she puts in it. The tomato sauce, the harissa. Very spicy that day. By the way. And everyone dies in. Everyone stops. And the room is filled with the sound of clinking spoons.

And so I try a very timid. Bon appétit that can be heard. Have you ever felt that ignored. If not, that hurts a lot. So everyone dives in and eats peacefully. The noise is getting louder as it was before, but suddenly the phone rings. My mum rushes through the phone to the phone and I see her eyes widening, and as they get bigger, we all see this number.

This number was longer than usual on the phone and we could all see the country code. And I remember vividly the numbers two, one, six. Answering that phone took her instantaneously back to her childhood until she was 17. As she answers the phone, she softly says hello. And then silence. That silence felt like forever. But she breaks that silence where they delicate sob.

Me and my siblings look at each other and we understand what happened. And something very bad happened. After a sleepless night, my mom boards us on the first plane. She finds to Tunisia the place where she was born. As the plane lands, her head is still up in the clouds. She walks through the airport and all she sees is just lifeless figures walking around the airport.

She goes out of the airport. And then she hops into the first taxi, and she is starting to get prepared to her two hour drive to take her to her hometown, a small village now become a city called Dubai. As she is on her way, she looks through the window and she notices that a lot of things have changed.

The palm trees are higher, the buildings too, and the traffic is heavier, making the journey even longer. She finally gets there, knocks at the door and suddenly the memories in her head start rushing as well as if it was a race. Each memory wanted to be the one, the one to be remembered. The first thing she would tell her sister.

But eventually none of them won. The door opens and my mom sees her sister. Red eyes still filled with water, without a word. She is welcomed with a heartfelt hug and welcoming eyes filled with filled with sympathy. Without saying anything, she follows her sister in a very dark room, and you can tell that the room was very dark, because the only light you could see was the swaying of the curtains through the rare breeze.

And then she enters and she sees the lifeless body on a mattress. As she sees it. She can’t help it but rush to the body. She holds her and hugs her tightly and kisses her repeatedly. On me. On me. Meaning mom in Arabic. I’m here now. You’re safe. After saying that, the only thing we could see is a tear that has been shed on my grandmother’s cheek.

One of her siblings goes to the body and closes the eyes, and you may now open yours. The reason why I chose this story is because, like my mom and the youngest of the family of eight, and I’ve always felt that it was hard to find my voice and to step up for my ideas. Because when you’re young and you have a lot of big brothers that would tell you what to think because you’re too young, you don’t know anything.

You’re naive. But now, thinking back, I think that this story shaped me in a way because I didn’t want to feel the regret and guilt that my mother felt of not being there enough for her own mom. So when I was about 18, I already knew that I wanted to be a teacher, and I’ve always made a promise to myself.

I said that whenever I get my first job as a teacher, I will buy a house and make sure that my mom is safe with my dad and that they left the small apartment we have been living all our life. So that’s what I did and I thought that would help them. But as I was growing older, I was getting, harder and harder on my siblings.

As I was repeating the process, I had been I had been living before, and now I’m thinking back, and I was hard on them because my mom wishes they called her more and visit more because she was expressing her own grief as if life could stop at any moment. So I get into a lot of arguments with my siblings, telling them that they should call mom more often because you never know what can happen.

But now I understand why I felt that. And most of all, why I shouldn’t feel like that. Because today we’re here to talk about home. And my vision of home changed. My siblings didn’t call my parents that often because they now have a family husband, wife, children. So this is now their home. But it doesn’t mean that they love my mom any less.

So what I do today to avoid that happening again is calling my mom anytime I can. And being here now. Far away from home. Only for a month. Still, I make sure that I call my mom every day because I have understood something very important. We tend to think of home as a building, something that has been built, something that protects you from the outside.

A geographical space. But I have now understood that a home is actually not a geographical place. It could be a spiritual place. So now when I call her, I always make sure that even if we don’t have much to say every day, that I get to hear every detail of her day. This way, when it’s my time to go home, I don’t feel like she felt the buildings getting higher and the trees higher to thank you.

00;25;44;02 – 00;25;54;09
Kera Rivera
Adel Ben Bacha is a 29 year-old French English teacher in Dijon, France. You must have heard of the mustard! He teaches in highschool, university and for masters’ programs, among other activities . He loves meeting new people, traveling and discovering new cultures, going out with friends and family.

00;25;54;09 – 00;26;01;02
Marc Moss
We’ll be right back after this short break. You are listening to the Tell Us Something podcast.

00;26;01;02 – 00;26;12;14
Zeke Cork
I didn’t know what it meant, but I couldn’t shake it. I thought maybe it was about my family, so I try to write about it, but there was always something missing. It stayed with me for years.

00;26;12;14 – 00;26;18;28
Ashley Brittner Wells
The coolest thing you could do in town was go to the games. And I desperately wanted to be cool, so I went.

00;26;18;28 – 00;26;22;10
Marc Moss
That’s after the break. Stay tuned.

Thank you to our story sponsor, the Good Food Store, helping us to pay our storytellers. Learn more at Good Food store.com. Thanks to Golden Yolk Griddle, who also showed up as a story sponsor. Learn more about them at Golden Yolk griddle.com. Thank you to our accessibility sponsor, Parkside Credit Union, allowing us to hire American Sign Language interpreters at this event.

In order to be a more inclusive experience, learn about them at Parkside fcu.com. Thanks to our artist sponsor Bernice’s Bakery, who paid our poster artist. I learned about them and their delicious baked goods at Bernice’s Bakery mty.com. Thanks to our media sponsors, Missoula Events, Dot net, the Art attic, The Trail Less Traveled, and Missoula Broadcasting Company including the family of ESPN radio.

The trail 133, Jack FM and Missoula. Source for modern hits you 104.5. Thanks to our in-kind sponsors. Float. Missoula. Learn more at float msl.com and choice of tile. Learn about Joyce at Joyce of tile.com. Please remember that our next event is September 18th at the George and Jane Denison Theater. The theme is Never Again. You can pitch your story by calling (406) 203-4683.

Tickets are available right now at Tell Us something.org. Please follow us on all the standard social media channels and subscribe to our newsletter. In order to be informed about all of our events. Welcome back. You are listening to the Tell Us Something podcast. I’m your host, Mark Moss.

In our next story, Zeke Cork returns to Missoula after many failed escapes to face his demons, find love and embrace his true self. Sensitive listeners, please note that Zeke’s story contains a mention of a suicide attempt, which may be distressing for some listeners. Please take care of yourselves. Zeke calls his story. Ezekiel cried. Thanks for listening.

00;28;25;09 – 00;28;39;09
Zeke Cork
Speaking. Got a short king? Yeah, sure. King on the premises? Yeah.

Thank you, Devon. And thank you, everybody, for coming.

After trying to be someone else anywhere else, I came back to Missoula. This town owns me. No matter how many times I try to run from here, it would find me and call me back and was never kicking or screaming that I’d return. It was more like tail tucked between my legs, begging for forgiveness with a promise to be better.

See, I grew up here. My handprints are in concrete. My footprints cast in the local trails. My tire tracks on the gravel roads. I went to Paxson and Roosevelt, then Hellgate High School. All my first year here. My first communion. My first kiss. My first awkward mechanics was sex. My first love, and my first heartbreak. I left my first boyfriend, who I wanted to be more than I desired, for a girl who had dumped me in the pig barn right here at the county fair.

So surrounded by the smells of shit and cotton candy. I stumbled through the sounds of the midway games and the blinking lights, where I ran into friends who tell me it was going to be okay. And then I made a girl underneath the Ferris wheel who I watched devour of candied apple with a passion I could only envy.

And I swear, she rolled her eyes at me, seeing the pathetic loser I was instead of the swaggering, give a shit start, I tried to present. Now my parents, they were educators, active members of the Democratic Party in Saint Anthony’s parish, and they pushed me to become anything that I could imagine, at least until their marriage failed. When I was a teenager.

And trust me, it needed to end. But I lost my way. I didn’t know who to be without them showing me. I think maybe later, when we’re adults ourselves, we figure out that our parents were just people trying to find their own way. But I followed my father to Portland. I blamed my aimlessness on him, and I wanted him to fix it.

I was a disaster. My once perfect father was consumed with finding his own last year, and he was really nothing more than Peter Pan chasing after his shadow. So I came back to Missoula, trying to find the promise that others had seen in me. I enrolled at the university. I was pretty focused for a while until I fell in love with that girl I’d met underneath the Ferris wheel, so I’d follow her to Chicago and then Seattle.

But she’d become this plank for me to cling onto, and an ocean of confusion and grief. That was a lot to expect of someone who was just trying to make it to shore themselves. So I packed up my books and my records, and I drove back to Missoula again. But there’s something that happens for me every time I enter this valley from any direction.

When it opens up and the neighborhoods pop into view, and whatever season it’s in presents itself in all its glory, like the royal robes of fall lilacs in the spring, the ice choked rivers in the winter, and the brown hills of late summer. And I just let out this long breath I’ve been holding. And I know, I know that I’m home.

But I can never sustain that comfort. I could only see my reflections in shards, slivers of broken glass. I couldn’t name the ways I was fractured. I only knew that I was. So I took up drinking as a hobby. And there was lots of what Beyoncé calls those red cup kisses when I’d meet a girl, and then another, and then another, hoping they’d be the one that would fix me.

But they were just crooked. Rusty nails tried to hold it together themselves, and we all kind of wanted the same thing, but the weight of it was too much for anyone to hold. And one night I had a dream about the prophet Ezekiel, the one in the desert who commands the bones to rise up out of the sand.

The one in that old song. That old gospel song. Ezekiel cried. Them bones, them bones, the ankle bone connected to the knee bone. Yeah. That guy. I didn’t know what it meant, but I couldn’t shake it. I thought maybe it was about my family. So I try to write about it, but there was always something missing. It stayed with me for years, and I’d say, what is it?

Why does this haunt me? And then one late night in August, after one month of sobriety, I wandered out to the shed that belonged to the woman I was seeing at the time. And I took her shotgun with me, and I tore that place apart looking for shells. All I found was an empty box. But still I put the barrel of that thing in my mouth and I squeeze the trigger, hoping there was one in the chamber.

Well, I’m here today because there wasn’t. But the next morning I checked myself into rehab. Next month I’ll be 34 years sober.

But back then, I had to just try to make it through each day. So I stayed to myself, went to work, read, listen to music, played video games, and watched a lot of movies. But then I’d made a girl and she was cautious but intrigued. And I wasn’t a good catch. But she was beautiful, smart and strong. So we took it slow, and eventually I’d convince her to run away with me, and we moved to Seattle.

We came back to Missoula, and then we’d move to Texas, California and Alaska. Every time things got rough, we’d move. All we needed was a change of scenery. We even got married, and that meant something. Maybe that would be the thing that would save us. Where we strong enough to move back home, settle down in our family and friends again.

We’ve had so. But it was actually the opposite. It was the safest place to just let it end. See, the skeletons live here, and we’d return to the place where they’d dwell. And I still despise that broken person in the mirror. And I’d been asking someone else to love them without hesitation. Without question. Unconditionally. What a huge ask.

So, for the first time in a very long time, I was on my own and I stood on the top of Mount Sentinel, staring down at my hometown, listening to Josh Reynolds homecoming, humming along in the crisp column air. And I let the pastoral rolling. It was there that I understood what the dream she had left her countless times as a lost girl, someone’s daughter, sister, a wife, only to return to become something akin to the prodigal son.

And it probably would have been a lot easier for me to become myself in a place where no one knew my story. But instead, I asked people who had known me most of their lives to call me by a new name and address me as the man I’d always been, but repeatedly denied. And what I got in return was my family and friends wrapping their arms around me and saying, yes, this makes sense.

My ex-wife gave me my first testosterone shot and she’s my closest friend. Then I’d meet someone new. Yeah, I know, here we go again. But we’d both sworn off relationships. But that crackle and hum like power lines was pretty hard to resist. So she chose to move across the world and give me and my town a try. She liked us.

We got married in a ghost town not too far from here, and we’re trying something different. We’re helping each other unpack the baggage instead of helping and making each other lugging around. So far, so good. And I’m no longer a stranger in a strange land. I finally live in a body that I’m not at war with. And the mirror.

The mirror is now a full reflection of someone I recognize. Someone I know. I look at my perfect haircut from Compass Barbershop, who has been with me through the whole thing.

And I’ll run a razor down my neckline. And I’ll watch my shoulders broaden and my hips narrow. And I see my parents, both of them looking back at me. My mother, who’s 84, is still alive and well, and my father has passed, but both of them staring back at their son, proud of the man he’s becoming. And I have a tattoo on my chest, a line I borrowed from Florence Welch that says, I’ll show you what it means to be spared.

I landed in a safe space. Nestled between these foothills and held by this community. The place where Ezekiel Zeke rose out of a desert of despair and became home. And for me, this is what it means to be home.

00;38;37;04 – 00;38;43;13
Devin Carpenter
He lives in Missoula with his wife and two rescue mutts. He loves tacos and trucker hats.

00;38;43;13 – 00;39;05;10
Marc Moss
Wrapping up this episode of the Tell Us Something podcast. Ashley Britton or Wells is a self-described tomboy in the 1980s who finds courage in the Montana Lady Griz games. It took years to find her own place in the sands and be the inspiration for girls who are like she was then. Ashley calls her story made in Montana. Thanks for listening.

00;39;05;10 – 00;39;52;13
Ashley Brittner Wells
I’m sitting on the burnt orange carpet of my bedroom for new kids on the block, blasting from a tape deck in the background. Staring back at me from my bookshelves. Kristy’s great idea. Every Garth Brooks cassette tape known to humankind. And the eyes of 1 million porcelain dolls. I’m staring at my 1993 1994 Montana Lady Griz basketball team poster.

The shit is iconic. 15 players pose in their high school leather jackets on the University of Montana campus in front of their lockers. T’s blond perms, proofs of curly bangs scrunched at the front one with a feather in her hair. The team is historic. The tag line is made in Montana because that year all the players were from our states, and I would stare at it because it was a signal to me and my friends what Montana girls like us could grow up to be.

One day. I’m all Montana, too. I was born in the mid 80s and raised in East Missoula. And did I mention that I loved the Lady Grizz? I went to all their games. I went to their summer camps in the summer, and I tried to figure out which player I wanted to be. Their home turf, Delbert Arenas, nestled up against the base of Mount Sentinel on the University of Montana campus.

Our games I would run one hand along the brown, snaking metal railing that surrounds the court, balancing a piping hot personal pan pizza, on the other hand, slide my butt along the tanned plastic bleacher seating and get ready to be pumped at the opening chords of Pop Up the Jam. I would scream, and the players ran out to raucous applause from a full house decked out in copper and gold.

The games were the coolest thing you could do in town, and it was like my posters had come to life. The players were like my celebrities Shannon Cates, Skylar Cisco, Malia Kapp. The coolest thing you could do in town was go to the games. And I desperately wanted to be cool. So I went. I have always been trying to figure out who I am in a world that doesn’t totally feel like I belong in it.

I was bigger and louder than the other kids. I tried to do all the things the boys did. I struggled to fit in pretty much anywhere you put me. I was what we referred to in the 90s as a tomboy. I didn’t know which new kid on the block I had a crush on, but I knew that I had a crush on their rat tail haircuts.

So I got one of those with my mom in tow. The hair stylist twisted my thick blond ponytail into a giant hair tie at the base of my neck and cut the whole thing off. Save the rat tail, my mom cried. She still has that ponytail tucked away in a Ziploc bag in her floral hope chest. I sometimes think it’s the last remnant of the daughter that she thought she was getting, but who?

I quickly put a stop to it. My friends and I loved my rat tail, and at the games we would strut around the arena checking people out, looking to be checked out. the crowds back then and to this day are made up of everyday Missoula fans just like us. Families retire trees. Then there was the student section.

I thought the student section were so cool. They were in college, for example. They had they were sunglasses inside. They knew all the chants and cheers. T fans, lady Griz T fans. But there was this one couple that always stood out to me. One had hair short like mine and wore hoodies and baseball caps. The other had a tease perm, poofs of curly bangs and jeans, just like the players on my beloved poster.

But they weren’t just any other couple. They were queer. I would see them, and I would watch them as much as I would watch the games. I had never seen a couple like them in Missoula or anywhere else. I would climb to the highest corner of the arena and my second hand Nike’s, and I would watch them, and I would see them put their arms around each other’s shoulders, whisper in each other’s ears, cheer for the same players.

I cheered for. And I didn’t really know what I was seeing, but it felt really safe. It felt warm. It felt like coming home. It must have taken so much bravery for them to show up to those games 30 years ago to and be totally themselves. I don’t know what it was like to be queer in the early 90s in Missoula, except that I do, because I was I just didn’t know it yet.

Back then, it felt like people kept out of each other’s business in ways they just don’t anymore. And seeing this couple was really meaningful to me, because it made me feel like maybe someday who I was going to be wasn’t one of the players on the court. It was one of the people in the stands. When I was 24, I moved to Portland, Oregon and quickly realized why a couple like that would make me feel like I’d found myself.

You probably figured it out before I did. It wasn’t difficult to be a lesbian in Portland, Oregon. It didn’t feel like taking a chance, holding hands in public with Mal, who would become my wife. Once we went hiking up the Columbia River Gorge, and on the way home, we pulled over to stop and look at the river and as we got out of the car, I planted one on Mal’s face.

And in that moment, I noticed a man in iridescent sunglasses staring at us. Standing outside of his pickup truck. It was just the three of us out there and my breath caught in my throat. But then he gave me a smile and a wave and a thumbs up. And I thought maybe it was going to be okay, and maybe I could be queer anywhere, even in Missoula, Montana.

Shortly thereafter, we moved home. You can imagine how excited I was to take Mel to a Lady Grizz game. My mom was just as excited and bought us matching University of Montana hoodies just for the occasion. We loaded our arms up with personal pan pizzas, big bags of popcorn, fountain Diet Cokes as big as we could find, and took the back arena hallways to our seats.

Nowadays, those hallways are lined with posters from all of my beloved teams from the early 90s, and I showed them all the 9394 poster and told her about the team and the dirty ball contest at summer camp, where whoever had the dirtiest ball would win a prize. At the end of Lady Griz camp. So I would dribble the ball for hours in my driveway and practice layups and try to do whatever I could to prove how committed I was to the players.

I also told her about the couple, who, you know, I’ve always wondered who they were, where they ended up. All of these images came rushing back to me as I watched the current team on Robin solving court. A few months ago we attended the senior night game and the house was packed. There were families and the student section and packs of ten year old girls walking around the arena and matching sweatshirts shox a bright pink lipstick across their faces.

Seeing and being seen, listening to whatever it is I listen to now, it is. And this time I hesitated for my arm around my shoulders.

The Montana that I grew up in, and frankly, moved back to just a few short years ago has been replaced by a moral panic. Folks aren’t exactly keeping themselves out of our communities business anymore, but we must remain being seen. When you are true to yourself, you give others permission to be true to themselves, to.

It was our turn to demonstrate a little bit of bravery. Owing so much to that couple that I will never get to thank.

So I did, everybody. I put my arms around my shoulders.

Because she is my love. And those arena seats are my home where we get to be exactly who we are and who I always have been.

00;49;56;11 – 00;50;04;18
Kera Rivera
She is best known as Mel’s wife. she is a lifelong women’s sports fan.

00;50;06;26 – 00;50;20;03
Marc Moss
Thanks for listening to the Tell Us Something podcast. This episode was recorded live in person as part of the opening events at Missoula Pride on June 11th, 2024 at the Glacier Ice Rink Pavilion.

Please remember that our next event is September 18th at the George and Jane Dennison Theater. The theme is Never Again. You can pitch your story by calling (406) 203-4683. Tickets are available currently at Tell Us something.org. Please follow us on all the standard social media channels and subscribe to our newsletter.

In order to be informed about events and all things storytelling. Stream past episodes, learn more about upcoming events, and get tickets at Tell Us something.org.