The night I forgot the words to the Star Spangled Banner

Facebook reminded me this morning that nine years ago today, I had one of the most embarrassing nights of my life. However, in the years since, it has turned out to be one of my favorite stories to tell. It's funny how time changes our perspective life that.


When I lived in Connecticut, Damon Scott, the afternoon personality on the radio station I worked for, also worked for the local AHL team, the Hartford Wolfpack. He was the guy that went out on the ice between periods to get the crowd to play games or ran around the stands giving away prizes. Every so often, I would join him or fill in for him if he had a conflict - the team even made me my own special jersey.

One day, while waiting to go out on the ice, it came up in conversation that one time, I had sung the National Anthem for the local WNBA team, the Connecticut Suns.



I told them if they ever ended up in a pinch without someone to sing, I would be glad to help out. They said they would call if they did, but I honestly thought it was never going to happen. 

So, on the afternoon of October 29, 2008, we got a call at the station that someone had backed out for that night, and they asked if I could cover. I was nervous, but I agreed to sing that night. I hustled down to the Civic Center, arriving just in time to go out for the anthem.


They laid out a red carpet on the ice for me to walk on, and handed me a microphone. The lights dimmed and the announcer said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise for the singing of our National Anthem. Tonight, it will be sung by 96.5 TIC's Jeannine Jersey". I walked out, took a deep breath, closed my eyes and started singing.


"Oh, say can you see, by the dawn's early light...."


I remember thinking, "This isn't so bad. I was nervous for nothing," and then, I opened my eyes.


"What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming..."


I looked around the arena as I sang, and saw the men with their hats in their hands, the children with their hands over their hearts, and felt proud to be asked to be part of this great tradition.


"Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight..."


Then, I looked up at the Jumbotron, and caught a glimpse of myself on the big screen - and something felt really wrong. My lips seemed out of sync for what I was singing. (I know now that the video just had a slight delay, but in real time, I didn't understand what I was seeing.)


"O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming..."


And I froze. I was so thrown off by what I saw on the Jumbotron that I completely lost my place in the song, a song that I had sung hundreds of times before. I paused, hoping it would come back to me - and there was NOTHING. My hand holding the microphone dropped to my side.


The silence was deafening. My face turned red. I felt lightheaded, like I was going to pass out from embarrassment. My eyes started to burn with tears about to fall. I had frozen in front of all of those people, and had no idea what to do.


Then, behind me, I heard one of the guys that worked for the Wolfpack, started to sing at the top of lungs. "And the rockets red glare...."


The people sitting in the section next to where he was standing joined in and started singing too: "The bombs bursting in air..."


And soon, the whole arena was singing, "Gave proof through the night, that our flag was still there...."


I laughed, looked at my friend with gratitude, picked up the mic, and joined in. "Oh, say does that Star Spangled Banner yet wave...O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave..."


The crowd cheered, laughed and clapped as I gave a small wave and scurried off the red carpet and back into the dark recesses of the arena under the stands.


I was mortified - more embarrassed than I could ever remember being in my entire life, but was already laughing at what had just happened. I remember thinking, "If I don't find a way for this to be funny, I am never going to get over it."


So, I started looking for the humor in the situation, and for the lessons I could take away from the experience. Here's what I learned:
1. You can't actually die from embarrassment. Sure, that moment was awful - but I survived it and many other embarrassing moments since.
2. Sometimes, one voice in the silence can make all the difference. My friend saw that I was in trouble and put his own pride aside to help me. I'll never forget his kindness.
3. Help is contagious. When others heard him, they joined in, and together, we got through it.
4. I have a choice - when I make a big mistake, I can let it define me and wallow or I can find the humor in it or lessons from it, and move forward, stronger.


Just last week, I was sharing this story with some co-workers and a woman that was in our office interviewing for a job. We were all laughing because, let's face it, it's kind of hilarious. I love sharing this story now, and I am glad that time has given me the perspective to see how funny it really is!

What I Know To Do When Tragedy Strikes

Yesterday, when the news broke about the explosions at the Boston Marathon, my heart sunk, and thought, "Here we go again...".  

As a member of the media, it is a fine line to walk when sharing the news about an event like this.  I want to share the facts, but they are often unclear and unsatisfying at the time when people are the hungriest for details.  I don't want to downplay any of what occurred or leave anything pertinent out, but also don't want to embellish or editorialize. 

I remember when 9/11 occurred, in the chaos that ensued afterwards, and the frantic scramble to get information out to those that needed it.  We did the best we could, and yet, still felt drastically inadequate. 

So, this morning, before I came to work.  I said a simple prayer, "God, please help me to share what needs to be shared.  Please help me to know what needs to be said." 

And the prayer was answered.

This morning, as I logged onto Facebook and Twitter, I saw a trend that warmed my heart:  a flat out insistence to focus on the positive.  When tragedies like these occur, it's easy to get mired down in the awfulness, the carnage, the fear, the damage done, or at least, it is for me.  However, today, I am encouraged by the fact that most people seem to be focusing on the positive. 

Hundreds of thousands of people have shared the message from comedian and actor Patton Oswalt (which you can read HERE, in it's entirety), where he sums up his post with:  "So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, "The good outnumber you, and we always will."

Author Elizabeth Gilbert posted this today:  "What I've taken to doing in instances like this is to use my heartache as a motivation to reach out deeper into my own community, offering help to those who are suffering right in front of me. I do this quite consciously in the name of all those who are out of my reach — in the name of all those whom I cannot assist. With Boston's anguish in my heart, then, I will be making offerings in the coming week to my local cancer support center, to my local Habitat for Humanity, to my local food pantry. Does it make sense for me to do this? I don't know, but somehow doing this always eases my heart at least somewhat." 

My friend, Mike, who lives in Boston posted this morning about the incredible bravery of the first responders and other people that wanted to help:  "As Boston gets back to it's feet this morning, I am once again thrilled to see the bravery and humanity of the people of this city...as the first responders did during 9/11, as soon as these bombs tore through the crowds, the heroes ran to help those injured. Did you see former patriot Joe Andruzzi carrying a survivor from the scene, just as his brothers had done in the towers that day in New York? You can mess with us, but the good people outnumber the bad. Try to take us down? You failed. AGAIN."

Another friend, Kevin, made this point:  "To me yesterday was about hero's. Seeing all those people run towards the danger. To help other human beings. It's amazing. It will always overpower those who want to do harm. I wish the people who did this would see what I see - no matter what you do - love always wins. You may temporarily set it back for a moment - but it always triumphs." 

So, THAT is what I am going to focus my energy on today:  the POSITIVE. I think that Mr. Rogers said it best:  

I am going to look for the helpers - and BE one of them, too.  We can donate blood at the American Red Cross (they are always in need), visit the elderly, hug the sick, share a smile with the downtrodden. Kindness breeds kindness...and the world, and my own heart, need that.