"O say can you see" sang the young girl standing on the small stage, located at the Glynn County Fairgrounds. I removed my hat and placed it over my heart until she had finished singing The Star Spangled Banner.
I lowered my head and excepted the bronze medallion which I was now receiving.
The large crowd of three or four hundred began to slowly shuffle forward as the music began to play and the ceremony began. I followed along, most of the time looking down at the ground. Once in a while I would look up and see the faces of thousands, upon thousands of people who lined the mile long, oval shaped track that we were now starting to walk.
Suddenly everything became quiet (to me) as if I were now someplace else and everything appeared to now move in a slow, and hazy motion. The five to six thousand people watching us began clapping and waiving their hands.
Thousands cheered at the top of their voices for all of us who wore the "bronze medallions and pins."
As we slowly walked past them I raised my eyes up from the ground and I looked directly into their faces as I passed. Their hands stretched outward towards us as if they wanted to hug us. I looked back at the ground and I silently wondered if any of those people really knew how we really felt inside. Or why they should really care about us, one way or the other.
They continued to cheer, on and on, as red, white and black balloons were being released into the heavens, and the bag-pipes played at the front of the procession. It was if we had become champions of something special and were now being cheered on by thousands of Romans who lined the streets of Rome itself.
From out of no where came this wonderful, overpowering feeling which I cannot describe in written word. It was something that I have never known as a human being. My jaw began to quiver, my neck and throat became very tight, and my eyes began to water.
The crowd continued to yell and cheer as loud as they could. Now and then, I would look up into the eyes of the massive crowd and see thousands of white, black, brown and yellow smiling faces. Smile after smile. Clap, after clap. Cheer after cheer. It never seemed to end.
Twelve thousand clapping hands. All clapping more loudly than I have ever heard in my entire lifetime.
Smiles, laughter and sounds of joy like I have never known. I felt as if we had just given the performance of our lives and were for some reason were being congratulated for a job well done.
For twenty five minutes we walked before we reached the end of the mile long track. Still the crowd kept cheering and clapping on and on, and they would not stop. By now I could take no more. The tears began to stream down my cheeks and I felt so proud.
I looked to my right and I smiled, just a little smile, at the young six year old girl who had no hair. I looked to my left and looked into the face of my friend, Sharen, who less than a year ago had her breast removed. I cried when I thought back to the time when I was told that I had cancer, and that I had less than six months to live.
Once again, I looked up into the cheering faces and closed my eyes to force out the tears, and listened to the thousands upon thousands of clapping hands, cheering us on.
The 21,416 candles, in white, and gold, paper bags, which lined the track, were now all lit, and glowing in the darkness. Burning as a memorial to those of us who survived. As well as to those who were not able to be there (with us) and walk the American Cancer Societies "Relay For Life." We, THE SURVIVORS OF CANCER."
Roger Dean Kiser, Sr.
The Sad Orphan Web Site
http://www.geocities.com/trampolineone------------------
Roger Dean Kiser, Sr.