Who Halle was to Me

When I think about Halle – my first cousin– I often have to restrain myself from humming or whistling along to one of the many showstopping numbers from the hit Broadway production Hamilton. One line in particular resonates from the very final number of the show:

You could have done so much more if you only had time.

I’ll come back to that.

Before Halle was any of the incredible things she would become in the twenty-four years that she was on this earth – multiple time cancer survivor, valedictorian, Ashbrook Honor Student, Frederick Douglass enthusiast – she often found herself playing the sidekick of Batgirl to my own Batman in the playroom (our very own Batcave) of our grandma’s basement, which meant that she was willing to allow someone besides herself to take initiative. Looking back at that particular aspect of my childhood is weird. The Halle that I and so many others would come to know later in her life was a trail blazer who didn’t wait around to be told what to do. She just did it, whether anyone was willing to help her or not. But it’s true. When we pretended to the be the Caped Crusaders fighting crime on the streets of Gotham, we fought the villains that I wanted to fight. We used the gadgets I wanted to use. And Halle was there to happily go along with it. After all, I was the older cousin, and as kids we have a way about looking up to the older kids around us, especially the ones that we trusted.

And then when she was five, she was diagnosed with Ewing’s Sarcoma. She went through chemo, she had surgeries, she spent a good portion of the next year in and out of the hospital and could rarely attend school. It was a tough year in ways that only Halle and the rest of her immediate family could understand.

And then Halle became the trail blazer that we all came to know her as. She spent most of her kindergarten year in the hospital, so naturally she attacked her education thereafter the way that her and I would attack the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in our grandma’s fridge and went to on be her Class’s valedictorian before joining the Ashbrook Scholar Program at Ashland University. She dreamt about ways to make the world a better place for other families affected by a cancer diagnosis. But a lot of us have dreams. What always struck me about Halle was that everything she did was in the service of trying to achieve those dreams. I always admired that about her, curious of how she had determined at such a young age not only what she wanted to do in her career, but exactly how to go about it. When I first entered college, I wanted to be a sports broadcaster, it wasn’t until I spent the fall semester of my senior year as an intern at a radio station, that I realized that I in fact did not want to go into the broadcasting industry. The only reason I pursued that internship was because I had to have an internship in something in order to graduate. If Halle had been interested in sportscasting, she probably would have procured multiple internships before the fall semester of her freshman year even started.

For a long time, I wondered how she did it. She knew what she wanted to do and she knew how to go get it, and she made it look so easy. After years of reflection, the answer to me seems so incredibly simple: Halle’s battle with cancer at such a young age gave her an appreciation and a value over her own life that I think so few of us ever have. She had a passion for living, for using every second she lived to build relationships with others. Life to her was precious, and she was determined to make every single moment she had worth it.

Which brings me back to Hamilton. I could write an entire separate blog post about the countless ways the life of Alexander Hamilton reminds me of Halle’s, but for now I am going to simplify it down to three lines from the musical written by Lin Manuel Miranda, that fully encapsulate who Halle was to me.

I am not throwing away my shot – Alexander Hamilton 

Halle didn’t wait for an opportunity to find her, she went and found the opportunities herself. She dreamt of creating a children’s pajama line with easy access to various ports and lines needed for treatment so that children going through treatment didn’t have to rely on wearing uncomfortable, vulnerable hospital gowns. She dreamt of making the world a better place, and she wouldn’t let anything get in her way to do it.

Why do you write like tomorrow won’t arrive? – Aaron Burr

Halle did everything. She wrote. She studied. She made lifelong friendships. She always found time for her family. She made connections with other cancer foundations. She was a valedictorian. She was a cheerleader. How did she find the time to do it all? I’ll never know for sure, but I believe that deep down, Halle didn’t just suspect that her cancer might someday return and ultimately take her life years later, I think she knew. And that’s why she could never stop. She was going to use every second she had.

You could have done so much more if you only had time – Eliza Hamilton

I said it after Halle passed away, and I still believe it to this day: Halle was destined to change the world, for the better. But she never got the chance.

That’s why we’re here. Halle’s ambitions of supporting those affected by cancer did not die with her. When I joined the Board of Share Your Story and hallegrace, I only had one goal: to tell Halle’s story. That’s what I hope do with this blog: to tell the story of who Halle was through the actions of our foundation. And hopefully through our combined efforts, we’ll be able to accomplish even just a fraction of what Halle could have, but even if it is just a fraction of what Halle could have done, it will still have an enormous impact.