The Moth - The Moth Radio Hour: Grit and Gumption

Episode Date: December 7, 2021

In this hour, courage, tenacity, spunk! New opportunities, self-confidence, and parents going the extra mile (or rollercoaster) for their kids. This episode is hosted by Moth Senior Curatorial Producer, Suzanne Rust. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by The Moth and Jay Allison of Atlantic Public Media. Hosted by: Suzanne Rust Storytellers: Pamela Mitchell, Javier Morillo, David Levy, Annalise Raziq

Attention Houston! You have listened to our podcast and our radio hour, but did you know the Moth has live storytelling events at Wearhouse Live? The Moth has opened Mike's storytelling competitions called Story Slams that are open to anyone with a five-minute story to share on the night's theme. Upcoming themes include love hurts, stakes, clean, and pride. GoodLamoth.org forward slash Houston to experience a live show near you. That's theMoth.org forward slash Houston. This is The Moth Radio Hour from PRX and I'm Suzanne Rust. This hour features stories about gumption.

Gumption, I love that word. It is variously defined as the intelligence needed to know what to do and courage and strength of mind. And that is what our stories today all have in common. We'll be hearing from a woman who learns that the only person she needs to please is herself, a young man standing up for who he is, a dad conquering his fears, and a mother learning a little magical thinking from her daughter. Let's start our tales of 42 with Pamela Mitchell, who shared this chapter of her life back in 2003 in New York City. Here's Pamela live at the mall.

and Camila live at the mall. In 1964, three weeks before I was born, the Civil Rights Act was passed, and my mother was glad that her daughter would never know a world where she wouldn't be able to go into a restaurant or theater or use a bathroom just because she was black. That same year, my grandparents who were lifelong

Baptist converted to Catholicism. They wanted, yes, that's right. That's right. They wanted their younger children and their grandchildren have access to a better education, which in their mind meant Catholic, because education was the way to a better life. So I spent 16 years in Catholic schools.

And I was very studious and serious. And in fact, I wanted to become a librarian, which in those days was like being a nun for lay people. But thankfully, I came to my senses on that one. But still, I had a very, very lonely childhood. I didn't have any friends. There weren't any other blacks in my classes. But one day, the most popular girl in school,

Amy Russo invited me to come to her house after class. And I was so thrilled and I ran home to my mother. And I said, mama, mama, Amy asked me to come over after class. And can I go? Can I go play? And she said, yes, yes, you can go. So she took me over there and she dropped me off and I was all thrilled.

And Amy and I were playing and I was having so much fun and I thought, oh my God, maybe I have a friend now. And so after about an hour, Amy said, well, you know, let's go down the block and play at Betty's house. And I said, okay, great, let's go. So we left and we started walking down the block. And we got down to Betty's house and Amy turned to me and she said, okay, great, let's go. So we left and we started walking down the block and we got down to Betty's house and Amy turned to me and she said,

well, you can't go in. Betty's father doesn't like blacks, so you have to stay out here and she left me standing on the curb. Unfortunately, it wasn't much better with the black kids in my neighborhood. They used to make fun of me because I spoke proper English.

So I pretty much kept to myself. But when I was 18, I got accepted to college. And not just any college, I got accepted to Harvard. And this was an amazing thing for me and my family. They were so proud. I mean, my grandparents had barely gotten out of grade school and here their granddaughter was going to not only to college, but the most prestigious college in the country.

And I was the first, the first person to do this in our family. But we didn't have very much money. So my mother made a list of things that I would need to go to school, like a dorm refrigerator, dish towels, a typewriter, which will tell you how old I am. And a family meeting was called.

And all my aunts and uncles came together, my grandparents, and they all took something off that list and bought it for me to send me off to school. But they were worried because I was going so far away from home, so they had some advice for me. My grandmother was pretty blunt. She said, girl, you better keep your eyes on a book in those legs shut. Thank you, Granny. My mother said, Pamela, you know as a black woman, you're going to have to work twice as hard to be taken seriously, so don't think you can fool around like the rest of those girls. So off I went with all their advice and love and support and pressure.

And I worked hard for those four years and it was tough, but I finished. And on that graduation day when I stood there with my mother and my sisters, I said, you know, this is so great. I have accomplished this not just for me, but for my family, too. And maybe now that I have this Harvard degree, and it's on my resume, no one can take it away from me. I don't have to work so hard to prove myself.

So I chose my graduate school based upon the fact that I don't have to work so hard to prove myself. So I chose my graduate school based upon the fact that I don't have to work so hard to prove myself. And I decided to go to the American Graduate School of International Management, also known as Thunderbird, in Phoenix, Arizona. Now, given its location and its specialization, they barely saw any black students, much less one from Harvard, but that didn't stop me. I was going. and it's specialization. They barely saw any black students,

much less one from Harvard, but that didn't stop me. I was going. So I go to registration, and I'm standing in line, and I'm watching all the students, and they're going up, handing their transcripts over to the professors, and they're just checking it off, and they're getting their class waivers, and registering, and going off.

And this is all being routine. Everybody's handing check move, check move, check move. And I'm thinking great, no problem. So I work my way through line and I get to the front of the line and I hand the statistics professor my transcript. And he takes a look at it and he starts looking at it and looking at it a little more. And I'm saying, you know, is there a problem?

And he says to me, well, is this your transcript? And I said, yeah, this is my transcript. You went to Harvard. And I said, well, yeah, I did go to Harvard. He looks at me and says, well, says here that you got an A-synth statistics, but how do I know you really know statistics? And then he asks me, define for me sample space. And I just froze.

I'm sorry, I'm drawing a blank. Well, it's clear to me that you don't really know statistics. So I'm not giving you a waiver and he shoves the sheet back at me. And I said to him, well, you know, I'm sorry, I couldn't come up with the answer off the top of my head, but, you know, I'm responsible for this knowledge, so I'll review my notes before class. But, you know, the rules say that if I have a beer better in statistics that you're supposed to wave me from this intro class. And he says, well, I don't care about the rules. You have been proven to me that you know this subject, so I'm not waving you.

And with that, I was dismissed. It took a trip to the dean of students, as well as the chair of the department, in order for me to get that waiver. And although I made a formal complaint against that professor, the lesson was clear, doesn't matter that you have a transcript from Harvard, you still have to prove yourself.

So I left and graduated and came to New York and began my standard resume building career, although because it was me, it had to be the gold standard, of course. And so I worked on Wall Street for five years and decided I wanted to change into entertainment. So I was talking to all the right companies, ESPN, Bravo, Nickelodeon, but you know, Playboy made the best offer.

It was the best title and the best money and well, you know, the most interesting job. So I took it. And in 1998, I became vice president of internationalforplayboy.com. And interesting it was. And dealing with clients was very different too. Part of my job was to tell them what they could do under the brand in their local overseas markets. And you know, a Discovery Channel, this was mostly just telling them what animals they could have on the video box art. Not a big deal. But at Playboy, I get these calls from my Dutch client, you know, Pamela Pamela, you know, we need hotter content on the site. You guys, you're so puritanical in the US, but you know, we're not that puritanical over here in Netherlands, so we need hotter content. Now, for those of you who don't know,

like all that weird shit pouring that's on the internet, most of that comes out of the Netherlands. So I understood their need for hotter content. But, you know, I just say, and just, you know, I enjoyed my job, you know. I had a good time, and I took my job. You know, I had a good time. And I took that job just as seriously as I had taken all the rest of my jobs.

But unfortunately, the rest of my world, they didn't have that same attitude. My mother, she didn't tell anybody where I worked for the first two months. And my grad school roommate didn't matter that this was an amazing job title and all that other stuff. She said, and I quote a friend of ours, I can't believe Pamela has sunk so low.

And my sister, the born again Christian one, well she started praying for my lost soul. But the worst moment came when I went to an internet business conference. I went up to the microphone during the Q&A session and I stood up there and I said, you know, hi, I'm Pamela Mitchell, I'm vice president of internationalforplayboy.com. And the audience started to laugh. And I looked out over these people laughing and I was just humiliated, like I used to be when the little kids would laugh at me when I was young.

And I thought, oh my God, this job is the biggest mistake of my life. I have worked so hard to be taken seriously and now people are laughing at me because of where I work. Afterwards, I was still a little off, but I was waiting for to speak to the moderator. And a woman comes over to me and she says, Ms. Mitchell, Ms. Mitchell, can I talk to you?

I'd like to ask you your advice. And I'm thinking, God, thank God, something. Somebody wants to talk to me here. And this is happening to me a lot. So, something, you know, people, somebody, somebody wants to talk to me here. And this is happening to me a lot. So I said, you know, sure, you know, I'm happy to help you. How can I help you? And she says to me, Ms. Mitchell, you know, I've just started going to sex clubs.

And, you know, I thought maybe, maybe you could help me out with this. I'd like your advice. And as I've looked at her, and she's looking at me expecting me to have an answer about this, I said, all of a sudden, I just started to get really pissed. Like, oh my God, this woman thinks that just because I'm a woman and I work for Playboy, that I'm going to know something about sex clubs, you know. And that professor at grad school, he thinks that just because I'm a black woman,

I can't have a transcript from Harvard. And all these people in my world who are all pissed off that I'm working for Playboy, well, they can't see pastor own attitudes about this to know whether or not this is a right job for me. And all these people, none of them know me. And why am I working so hard to try and please all these people when they don't know me anyway? So I said to that woman, I'm sorry, I can't help you. And I stayed at Playboy for three and a half years. And I did some very good deals for them.

And to answer that question that I know you're all thinking, yes, I've been to the mansion. And yes, I have met half. But that's another story. Thank you. That was Pamela Mitchell. Pamela is a former entertainment executive turned coach and the founder and CEO of the Reinvention Institute where she teaches strategies to navigate change. I recently had a chance to talk with Pamela and I asked her a few questions. I love that your coaching business focused on reinvention. So how did

you how did your career lead you to coaching and what have you learned about yourself through the work that you do? Well I'd say that you know the Reinvention Institute which is the company that I created when I left Playboy is the company that I wished had existed when I Wanted to make a reinvention in my corporate career and there was nothing there That had been a big dream of mine to land a job on Wall Street And then when I got there about six months in I realized that it was a very bad fit Personality-wise, I wasn't suited to Wall Street. But I stayed for five years

because I had worked so hard to get there. But eventually, I just couldn't take it any longer, and I quit. So I went looking for something to help me figure out what to do next, and everything at the time was about climbing ladders in your current career was nothing about how to switch ladders. And so I had to figure it out by myself and I made a lot of mistakes. It was very difficult and eventually though I figured out and made a switch into the entertainment field. And that was a great fit. You know, doing international business development

for entertainment companies, because you didn't oversee these partnership deals right on point and loved it. But I felt that this idea of being able to switch careers, no matter what life through it, you was an important conversation. And nobody was having that conversation when I started this, but I felt the world needed to have that conversation, and needed to be taught those skills. And so it was on me to do that. And so that's why I left, and that's why I started doing this.

And then with the crash in 2008, that's when the world sort of woke up and was like, oh yeah, there are no more safe industries. That's an illusion. And so really, the only safety is our ability to take whatever situation's life throws us and to navigate them into something that we want to have happen or a place that we want to be. Yes, so true.

Perfect fit. Just the way of illustrating those steps is just a just on point for your brand and what you've in your story it altized into that I think. And finally, you are right at the end of your story. We, we inquiring lines have to know. So you've met the man, you've been to the mansion. What was the most surprising thing about that experience? So, you know, Heavens already in his 80s when I came on the scene. So, he was doing what he needed to do to service the brand, but behind the scenes, he was hanging with his buddies, just playing cards, like any other 80-year-old man, you know? In a satin bathrobe. Yeah, in a satin bathrobe, but, you know, the mansion, it wasn't like

this really fancy, fancy place. It was like the heyday from the 70s, like your grandparents, you go into their house and it's kind of in amber, like it was their best moment and don't change it from them, it was like that. That was storyteller panel, Emichelle. She lives in Miami with her husband and two rescue kittens. We're proud to say that Pamela was a moth board member back in the day and we were so grateful to have had her. If you want to hear more of Coach Pamela's story or are interested in learning more about how to make some changes in your life, check out her new audible original called mastering the scale of reinvention.

To find a link to that, and see a photograph of Pamela, go to themoth.org. Coming up next, a young man far from home holds on tightly to his identity when the Marth Reato Hour continues. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by PRX. I'm Suzanne Rust. Today we're hearing stories about grit and gumption. Fresh out of college, I wound up living and working in Rome, Italy, for almost 10 years. As an African-American woman, being in a place where I stood out so much gave me a heightened sense of identity and pride in my heritage. One that I may not have noticed, quite as much back at home, where I stood out so much gave me a heightened sense of identity and pride in my heritage.

One that I may not have noticed, quite as much back at home, where I blended in a bit more. Sometimes being a fish out of water brings out your fierceness. Our next storyteller, Javier Morillo, shared such a revelation at the Fitzgerald Theatre in St. Paul, Minnesota. Here's Javier live at the moment. Applause My family's last Christmas in Germany in 1976 is etched in my memory as full of magic. We were a Puerto Rican family living on a US Army base in Germany.

So, I had not just Santa Claus and Christmas Day, but we also celebrated the German holiday of Day of Saint Nicholas on December 5th, where we did that by putting our boots out in front of the front door of our second floor apartment and waited overnight to see if St. Nicholas would fill it with candy if we'd been good or lumps of coal if we'd been bad. It's very German. Make kids very anxious to celebrate. Birth of our Lord. That year, my parents friend, Mr. Galagherso, also introduced me to three kings day, the epiphany.

And so that year, for the first time, I did what all Puerto Rican kids do. I put under my bed a glass of water for the three kings to drink and a shoe box filled with grass for the camels. A week before, Santa had gotten a much better deal with milk and cookies. That year was our family's turn to host

the big Puerto Rican Christmas party. Now what you should know about Puerto Ricans is that when we leave the island wherever we are, we find each other. Everybody in Deutschland was in our second floor apartment. Mommy had prepared this great big feast of Puerto Rican food after arguing with German grocers over the right ingredients to make the food. She made pasteles, their quintessential Christmas meal.

Pasteles, they look like tamales, but they taste very different. They're not made of corn. They are made from green bananas and tubers. And traditionally, they are wrapped in banana leaves. But our pasteles were wrapped in aluminum foil. Because when you're a Puerto Rican mother in Germany, you make do. I didn't think this at the time,

but this party must have been expensive for my parents, and we were not at all wealthy by any stretch. My dad was enlisted in the army. He had just a few short years before come back from his second tour of duty in Vietnam, where he had experienced the horrors of that war on the front lines. my parents had escaped poverty in Puerto Rico when he joined the army.

But although I know now that we did not have a lot, it never felt that way, because mommy made it her sort of goal and task always to ensure that we felt not just that we had enough, but that we had a lot. And not just at Christmas time. There's all year round she did this. This fell on her largely because dad, because he was in the infantry, he was away for weeks at a time doing military field exercises.

So it was mommy who enrolled us for school, mommy who bought our school clothes. It was mommy who was called in for parent teacher conferences. I remember when I started the school, Mommy putting me on a school bus in mind's Germany in a little denim suit. And she bought. I made it in five years old, but I knew that my bell-bottom jeans

and matching jeans jacket were cool. And I rocked that look. Mommy had sewn a patch over the left-brass pocket that said, me siento orgulloso de ser Puerto Ricanio, proud to be Puerto Rican with our flag right in the middle of it. Puerto Ricans, we love our flag. I had no way of knowing that my kindergarten teacher, Ms. Robinson's only cultural

reference for Puerto Ricans was most likely West Side Story. Like, I must have looked to her like this little Latin tough, like in her head she's thinking, boy, boy, crazy boy. And I got in a lot of trouble in kindergarten, which sounds weird, because who gets in love in trouble in kindergarten. But Ms. Robinson called mommy in for a parent-teacher conference early in the school year to let her know that her son was willful, disobedient, and did not know how to pronounce his own name. Mommy was alarmed. Ms. Robinson says, I call him. I say, Javier, listen to me, Javier, come here.

He just ignores me. Now, I had been fighting with her for a while, so when my mother explained to Ms. Robinson that she had just lost an epic battle with a five-year-old, my worldview changed. Mummy and I laughed all the way home, and I learned a very important lesson that day. Adults are stupid. Like I think now, all the times I got in trouble in kindergarten, and I wonder if Miss Robinson was a little bit racist. But after that parent-teacher conference, I was nobody's victim. She might scold me, and I would just look at her, like, with pity. I was thinking, yeah, what we already established that you are dumb. LAUGHTER

Later that same school year, Ms. Robinson pulled out a big map and were all army brats and she helped us point out where everyone was from, originally, in home states. And on that particular map, what Doriko was this tiny little speck and so all the other kids made fun of me for being from such a small place. When I told mommy later, she was dismissive, you know, La Gaccosl, don't pay attention to those kids, you know more than they do. You speak two languages, you have two cultures,

they have one. And it was that lesson that really stayed with me forever. And I think maybe why I have such vivid memories of this period of my childhood, because my mother always did everything she could to ensure that we, that I felt not just like that we had enough, but we had a sense of abundance. And whether it was arguing with grocers to have all the right ingredients to prepare a feast or ensuring that I never felt that just because I was different from my

classmates that I was less than, in fact, that I was more than, it was that sense of abundance and not, you know, Santa or the three kings that added magic to my childhood. Thank you. Applause That was Javier Moldillo. Javier grew up on Army bases in Texas, Germany, and Puerto Rico. He now lives with his husband John in the cold north of Minnesota. Javier says that the greatest gift his mom gave him

was her constant insistence that being different did not make him less than others. It actually meant that he brought more to the table. I asked Javier if he could say something to that teacher now, what would it be? I think I'd say thank you for, in the end, being a good sport about it all. Not long after that parent's teacher conference, I remember Ms. Robinson taught us all in a class lesson how to pronounce the letter J. And before I could even raise my hand to correct her, she added that sometimes a J can sound like the letter H. And she admitted to the whole

class that she had been mispronouncing my name. My victory was complete. To see photos of Javier and his family, and yes, he's wearing a cute little suit, go to themoth.org. Carage shows up on the battlefield, sure, but sometimes it also shows up in more humble places, like an amusement park. Our next storyteller, David Levy, shared this story at Cincinnati's Anderson Theater, will we partner with CBC, here's David.

APPLAUSE Summer time, 10 years ago, was the most memorable summer of my life because of my son Tyson. It was 2008, and he was eight years old. But it wasn't his age that made that summer so memorable. It was his height. Because just prior to that summer, Tyson finally reached the height of 48 inches.

Which I can tell some of you recognize as the minimum height necessary to ride most of the adult thrill rides at King's Island amusement park. We had been going to the park for two years, but for two years, we were sequestered to the children's side of the park, shooting ghosts in the Scooby Doo haunted mansion, and riding rides with words like teacup

and caterpillar in their name. The other side of the park is the ride warrior's side. This is the side the commercials promise is where the awesome is at. And we would venture over there from time to time but the only thing that we could do there was for Tyson to measure himself against the you must be this tall line and repeatedly come up short. So if the summer of 2008 was my most memorable summer by far the most memorable day was the first day that we went to the park that summer me and my 48-inch tall son.

As soon as we entered the park we made an immediate beeline for the closest rides to the entrance that we knew Tyson could now ride. And that's what brought us face to face with the extreme flyer. Now in case you're not familiar. This ride reminds me of the St. Louis arch. Up to three riders can ride at once, each wears a harness to the back of which is attached a cable. The other end of that cable is attached at the top of the arch, 150 feet in the air. 17 stories. The riders are then bound together and then a crane drags them backward and up into the air until they are even with the top of the arch and facing the ground. This is about where we came in that day and we watched as the attendant

gave the riders the thumbs up. This was their cue to pull the rip cord, releasing them from the crane, causing them to freefall until the cables to their harnesses went taught and they began to swing like a pendulum down through the arch out over our heads and into the air like they were flying. This is the first ride we see when we get to the park that day. And when Tyson sees it, he says, I want to ride that one. So full confession, I'm not a big fan of thrill rides. In fact, I'm utterly terrified of them.

Whenever I've gone to an amusement park with friends, they would have to goad me all day long to ride even one. And if I did, it was only with Knuckles' white from clutching whatever safety device I had at my disposal. And then to keep myself calm, chanting my favorite mantra over and over in my head, competent engineers designed this ride. Competent engineers designed this ride, competent engineers designed this ride. And if that didn't work, this ride has been operated thousands of times safely before now. Over and over until the ride was over and I could begin to put the unpleasantness behind me.

This was my history with thrill rides. So he's pulling on my arm saying, let's go, let's go, but I'm paralyzed in place. And I'm wondering how it is possible that I could know that this moment has been coming for two years, and yet I'm still entirely unprepared for it. And so I swear it was just a stall when I said, I don't know, Tyson, that ride looks kind of scary to me. But then God bless him.

Just because Daddy said so. He agreed. He looked at the ride and I heard him say, yeah, that does look kind of scary. And his shoulders dropped and his eyebrows wrinkled. And I don't know exactly how to describe what two years of enthusiasm and anticipation that's about to bust out of an eight-year-old boy's body looks like. But whatever that is, it had been there a minute ago, and that was gone, and that was because of me.

I know that fear is not a genetically inherited trait, but I just witnessed how it could be handed from one generation to the next. But in that moment, and I know I only had a moment, the only thing I could think to do to prevent from handing my fears off to him was to swallow them myself. So I took a deep breath and I said, yeah, that bride does look kind of scary, but it looks like a fun kind of scary. Let's do it. So the thing about this ride, most of the rides in the park have a harness that holds you

in. This ride is the harness. And as the attendant was attaching the cable to the back of mine, I looked at the top of the arch where the other end was attached. And I remember thinking, that's a lot of cable for something to go wrong with. So I started looking around for a clipboard with a piece of paper on it, the kind of thing you might see in a public bathroom. Just some sign that somebody's been around recently to inspect this thing.

No clipboard. And then the scissor lift, which is holding up the platform that I didn't even realize we were standing on, begins to lower. And now we're attached to the arch, so we're not lowering with it, and pretty soon we're on our tiptoes. And then the platform goes lower still, and we fall forward so that we're hanging horizontally by these cables. And this was unexpected, so Tyson laughs, and I scream because that's what I do.

And then the attendant binds our legs together, and he comes around in front, and he takes our inside arms, my right, Tyson's left, and he wraps them around each other at the elbow. And he says, whatever you do during the entire ride, do not unhook your arms. So I'm starting to sweat and I grab my wrist because I am not letting go of Tyson's arm and I hear Tyson

yell, yeah, just some question I hadn't heard asked and the next thing I know we're being dragged backwards and up into the air by the crane. So I close my eyes for a moment but then I'm like no, you know what? Live or die, I am only writing this right once. So my eyes are open when I get to the top and I'm inspecting the ground for any sign of an imprint in the shape of a bud. And I hear, hey, and it's the attendant and I'm like, what do you want? And he's giving me the thumbs up. So I look at Tyson to see if he's ready and who am I kidding? He's been ready for two years.

So it's up to me. I pull the ripboard. And I forget that the ride starts with us free falling. So I'm thinking, we're dead. And then it occurs to me that my mantra, that this riot has been operated thousands of times safely before now, has a serious flaw in it, because of course things work until they break. That's what breaking is.

So I am at the peak of terror, where cables go taught and we drop into that swing, speeding downward, and if you believe Wikipedia, hitting 67 miles an hour and coming within six feet of the ground as we pass through the arch and fly. And Tyson screaming with excitement and I'm screaming with terror and, oh a bit, maybe a little bit of excitement. And then we swing back and forth again, but not quite as high and back and forth again, and still not quite as high. And I'm finding myself a little disappointment

that we're not getting the lift that we did on that first swing. So when the ride is over and Tyson yells, that was awesome. I'm like, that was awesome. I mean, I'm shaking all over, but that was awesome. And then he points at the next ride. Drop zone.

Only the tallest ride in the park. So we ride that. And then the Italian job, which almost gives me whiplash. And then Top Gun, which has us swinging around, narrowly avoiding trees. And after each ride, Tyson's like, awesome, awesome, awesome. And I'm having a good time, but I don't know how much more of this I can take. My mantras are becoming useless to me,

becoming desensitized to them. So thank God it's 10 o'clock at night. There's only time for one more ride before the park closes. And we're getting into the front seat of the vortex. You know it. It's a roller coaster and I inspected it before we got in and it occurred to me that for all of the swinging in the dropping and the flailing about that I've had to endure this day I had yet to be on a ride to return us upside down. The vortex would do that to us six times.

So I'm in pre-panic mode when the ride begins. And then all of a sudden, boom, explosion, the nightly fireworks, they set up to signal the closing of the park go off, and they're happening right in the sky in front of us. So as we're climbing that first ascent going way above the tree line, at a moment at a time when I really should have been in full panic mode, instead we're gawking at the fireworks so that I barely recognize when we

crest at the top of the hill. And it's not until we're plummeting down that first drop, which is going to take us into the first two loop-to-loop, said, it occurs to me, oh my god, my wallet, my keys, Tyson, could I save all three? But those competent engineers in their physics have made sure we're sitting snugly in our seats, so that the only thing there is to think about when we're upside down for that very first time is how those fireworks, which a moment ago, had been firing from the ground up, now looked like they were firing from the sky down. And that was pretty incredible. And there were two loops in a row, so we got to look at that twice. And the rest of the ride was just a blur of screaming

and laughter until it came to that short stop that Roll of Coasters do. But then the fireworks finale played out right in front of us. It was glorious. So when we got off the ride and Tyson inevitably yelled, what I knew he would yell, what he had yelled after every ride we'd ridden that day. For the first time that day I was absolutely certain that he was correct. That was awesome.

That was David Levy. David is the co-founder of a storytelling show in Cincinnati called True Theater, that he says was 100% inspired by his love of the mall. Tyson is now 21, and although David says that their amusement park days are mostly behind them, he admits that that day not only cured him of his fears of adventure rides, but turned him into a fan. And while that great adventure didn't necessarily make him more fearless in other areas of his life, David says spending time with Tyson on at the parks helped them form a special

bond. To see photos of David and Tyson on their big day, go to themof.org. Why don't you ride, John? And you'll know the time Of a little group of people And they come up to you right Right Coming up next, a little magical thinking When the moth radio hour continues I'm your heart I'm your heart

Wow, wow I'm your heart I'm your heart I'm your heart The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts and presented by the Public Radio Exchange, PRX.org. This is the Mothradio Hour from PRX. I'm Suzanne Rust. Some people are so steadfast in their ability to manifest what they want in life that they almost seem to conjure it up. Our final story is a perfect example of that. Annalise Razik told this at the main stage in Chicago,

who we partner with WB Easy. Here's Annalise. I told my daughter to make a wish. We were sitting together in our tiny ramshackle kitchen, staring at the seven birthday candles on her cake. She closed her Cindy Lu Hu eyes for just a second and then she blew out these candles with great determination and she said, Mommy, do you want to know what I wish for? And I said, Oh, no, honey, that's something precious for you to hold close to yourself. But the truth is, I was afraid of this wish

because her father and I had been separated for the last four years, but we had only recently become officially divorced. And I knew that Kaylee was at the age now, where a lot of kids started saying, how come you're not together anymore? And they started making wishes that their parents would get back together. And this wish was especially problematic because my daughter was born with a special talent. She had the ability to materialize what she envisioned. So okay, here's just one example. So, a couple years before, my mom was taking us

on a trip to Disney World, and we had to get to the airport at the height of rush hour. And I was freaking out about this because in our crappy neighborhood, cabs were notoriously unreliable. And so, I had called this limo company and I had negotiated this deal where we could get a town car for only $5 more

than I'd pay for a cab. So Kaylee heard me on the phone with them when I hung up, she's like, oh, are we gonna get to ride in one of those really long cars? And I was like, oh no, honey, we're just getting a regular car. And she just looked at me and she's like, okay.

So the morning that we're supposed to leave, she's at the living room window and she's like, mommy, mommy, look, and I go look out the window and pulling up in front of our house is the longest black stretch limo I have ever seen, and this guy getting out like in the full chauffeur regalia, and I were running out the front door and I was like, no, no, no, no, no, I did not pay for this, no,

there's some mistake, and he's like, just chill out, lady. We're out of town cars, so you get this car for the same price. Right. Kind of a little bit scary. So we drive to the airport and Kaylee drinks soda the whole way and watches cartoons, and she's got this little smile on her face.

But this wish is really a problem, because I know that it's never going to happen. We're never getting back together. And I thought, oh, at the tender age of seven, her magical powers are about to come to an end. But she presses on and she's like, mommy, I wish for the same thing every year. And I was like, oh, you know, feeling this tightness in my stomach. She goes, I close my eyes and I wish and I wish and I'm feeling ill. And I know that one day I'm going to open my eyes and there it'll be. What? In the backyard.

And I was like, oh, a dog. She's wishing for a dog. And I knew she wanted a dog. But, you know, I was raised with cats. I'm an animal lover, but a dog seemed like a lot of work. And I didn't have any money. Our phone was turned off regularly at this point and the gas.

And I was just like a woman living on the edge. But her powers are legion because a month later, God dang it, a dog shows up in our backyard. I'm not kidding. So she's home from school on the tail end of chickenpox and she's standing in the backyard hula hooping and I'm at the kitchen table working. I can hear the shh shh shh. And then it stops and she comes to the back door

and she's like, Mommy, there's a dog out here and he's staring at me. And I was like, whatever, he's someone's dog, he'll go back home. I hear her go back out in the yard and I hear, shh, shh, shh, and then it stops. And I get up, I go look out the back door. She's standing frozen in the backyard,

holding this hula hoop, looking at this dog through the chain link fence. They have locked eyes. They are communicating. And I go on the backyard and I run up to the fence and I see this dog, he's like a medium-sized German shepherd mix and I was like, hey, are you a nice dog? And he's just sitting there in his tail, goes,

thump, thump, thump. And then I see his ribs and he's like painfully skinny. And I open the gate and he comes and he flops down on the patio and I see Kaylee, she's starting to get that little smile. And I was like, no, no, no, no. We are not keeping this dog. And I run in the house and I call her vet. And I was like, look, this dog is here.

He seems really nice. I can't handle it. I'm overwhelmed. I'm a single parent. I have no money. And so they take pity on me. And they're like, bring the dog in. We'll check them out.

We'll help you figure out what to do. And as we're going to the car, Kaylee just quietly says to me, his name is orbit because he was circling our yard. And I said, that's great, honey, we'll tell that to the people that we give him to. So we take him to the vet. They can see I am a crazed human being. And I call him back later on and they say, oh, he's been on the street a long time, but he's so sweet. Don't worry.

It's going to be no problem finding him a home. We just have to put some ads in the paper and see if there's an owner. And back at home, Kaylee hand draws 20 found dog posters and makes me take her around the neighborhood and hang them up. And for the next three days, I sneak into the bathroom and I call the vet and I'm like, how's he doing? And they're like, oh, he's so sweet. Everyone loves him.

No problem. You don't have to feel guilty. He'll have a home. Except for on the third day, the vet text us to me, wait a minute. How'd you find this dog again? And I tell her the story and she's like, what? You can't give away this dog. This dog came to you. He's yours.

I'm going to go out in the living room and I go, put your shoes on. We're going to go get the dog. She gets that little smile on her face. Shazam, powers intact. Thank you. That was Annelise Rezik. Annelise is a Chicago-based performer, writer, activist, and grateful mother. Her creative projects have ranged from leading theater workshops within incarcerated women

to playing the back of a dragon. Her most recent productions include the solo show I Know A Place about her relationship with her stepdad bill, and she is currently working on a piece about her Palestinian father. Annalise says that Kayley's gift lets her know what is possible, and it's made her pay more attention in life in general. She also realize that sometimes things come to you in ways you may not be expecting.

If your focus is too narrow, you might miss the opportunity being presented. I asked Annelise if Kaylee was still manifesting things into her life and no surprise this is what she had to say. She continues to draw to her the things that she wants, but I think to other people it just looks like luck. When she was in college she discovered someone whose work she admired and she told me that she wanted a life that looked like his. And now she not only has that life, but she also works with that person. And she did not actively seek him out. She was interning somewhere after college, and he just walked into where she worked.

And that was the beginning of their professional relationship. To see photos of Annelise with Kayley and Orbit, go to themoth.org. If you have a story you would like to tell, you can pitch it by recording directly to our site, themoth.org, and leave us a two minute version of your story. You can also call it in to 877-799-MOTH. That's 877-799-6684. We listen to every pitch, and sometimes we will call you back to hear more and develop your story from math shows around the world, or we might just play your pitch on the radio.

As you age, what it takes to make you feel real nervous excitement increases at the same time your ability to actually do those things, the cons. And when that ascending line crosses the descending line, that's when you are officially old. So I thought it made perfect sense to push back that crossing by another year or so by putting my reputation as a respected academic at risk by entering my first bodybuilding competition this year at the age of 62. Now most of my life, my looks were too nondescript to even consider such a thing and my body tended towards the scrawny. But I've been fortunate to have never put on too much weight, still have my hair, and all my joints

are good, and I've made weight training a part of my life for some years now, while most of my would-be competition has fallen off into the ditches by this point. I think that at last my time may have arrived. So I set my sights on the Oklahoma Grand Prix of bodybuilding. Only problem was they didn't have a 60 plus category, so I had to compete in the 50 plus category. Did I win? Of course not. Was I feeling true nervous excitement as I went out on that stage in my tiny red posing trunks?

Oh, you betcha. Remember you can pitch us your story at themoth.org. That's it for this episode of The Moth Radio Hour. We hope you'll join us next time. and that's a story from The Moth. This episode of The Moth Radio Hour was produced by me, Jay Allison, Katherine Burns and Suzanne Rust, who also hosted the hour. Co-producer is Vicki Merrick, associate producer Emily Couch. The stories were directed by Leah Tao and Meg Bowles,

with additional grand slam coaching by Maggie Sino. The rest of the Moth's leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Sarah Austin Genese, Jennifer Hickson, Kate Tellers, Jennifer Birmingham, Marina Klucce, Brandon Grant, Inga Gliddowski, Sarah Jane Johnson, and Aldi Kaza. Our pitch came from Tom Specter of Oklahoma City. Most stories are true, as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers.

Our theme music is by the Drift. Other music in this hour from Medeschi, Martin and Wood, Eddie Palmiari, Anat Cohen, the Ohio players, and Mark Orton. We receive funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by PRX. For more about our podcast, for information on pitching us your own story, and everything else, go to our website, thomoth.org. you