The Big Rock Candy Mountain
How A Hospice Patient Taught Me About Stories That Matter
Next week I get to interview a Hospice volunteer. I’ve known for years how important that role is and have two first-hand experiences that have impacted my life deeply. Here’s the first.
Way back in 1997 after I earned a Master’s degree in Mass Communication, I pitched a story to the Ashland (Wisconsin) Hospice group. I wanted to tell their story from the perspecive of a patient. I knew it was important work and that I could hold space and honor someone receiving Hospice services.
After months of contemplation (on their part) and Hospice volunteer training (on my part), I was finally given the name of a kind, burly man who loved country and bluegrass music. Thirteen of his friends had volunteered to be his caretakers so he could remain at home as long as possible. I met them all, photographed them with Ben, heard why they were devoting countless hours to their friend.
I also spent many visits with Ben listening deeply as he shared his life’s story. When I sat down to write his story, I remember holding my legal pad to my heart (yes, I hand wrote the first draft back in the day) and asking for divine guidance to do his story justice. Then Ben’s heart and soul story poured out of me and remains with me all these years later.
It got prominent placement in the local newspaper with lots of column inches, a large photo and cutline, and positive feedback — all the metrics that fed my ego. But when I saw Ben’s reaction to the story, I got out of my head and back into my heart. The response brought this big, burly man to tears. A member of the community had the feature professionally matted and framed. Another person bought him a portable phone, something he mentioned would be helpful at a time when he only had a phone that was hard wired to the wall. And seeing in print how his friends were showering him with love and kindness overwhelmed him.
The thing is: Ben knew his life story but it wasn’t until he saw it in print that he really saw its value or that others would even care about him. I remember him saying, tearfully, “I can’t believe all these people (13 caretakers) are doing this for me. I can’t believe someone framed that article, and I don’t even know the person who bought me a phone.”
We shared a moment of deep gratitude. And then he pulled out his old record player and once again played his favorite song for me: The Big Rock Candy Mountain. I like to imagine that’s the song he heard in his final moments.
Cheers, Ben. I was honored to get to know you and to share your story. You made me realize I wasn’t just writing pieces to be published but was sharing life-changing stories that matter. And that’s why I’m so excited to be interviewing another Hospice volunteer next week.
I love this Leslie! I don't have first hand experience with hospice, but I spent many years doing home health care work on the side, and met so many amazing individuals. I learned so much from the people I cared for; it was really impactful work. I love that your article was so touching for Ben, being able to see his life and loved ones from an outside perspective.
I love this. It reminds me, maybe especially relevant with Valentines Day so near, how important it is for us to share with people—the near and dear but also those we may not be so close to—that they are important and valued. I should always remember and do that, but I’ll be thinking about it a lot this week. Thank you!