The Moth - The Moth Radio Hour: Second Chances

Episode Date: January 31, 2023

In this hour, we present four stories of getting another shot. Tales of tenacity, unexpected fortune, and redemption in moments both great and small. Hosted by The Moth's Executive Producer, Sarah Austin Jenness. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by The Moth and Jay Allison of Atlantic Public Media. Hosted by: Sarah Austin Jenness Storytellers: Joshua Blau loses his wallet on the FDR drive. Navrioska Mateo puts her dream job in peril. Faith Salie has a fashion crisis on a momentous day. Sherman "OT" Powell attempts to reconnect with his family after 34 years.

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 from PRX. This is the Moth Radio Hour. I'm Sarah Austin-Geness. This episode is about second chances.

We have four stories for you today, all different kinds of do-overs, opportunities to try again in work, in life, and in love. Some second chances you give to others, some are given to us. Our first storyteller is Josh Blow. He told this at a story slam in New York City where we partner with Public Radio Station WNYC. And on this particular night, the theme was drive. Here's Josh Blow, live at the mouth.

So it's about six years ago, and it's a rainy Sunday in Manhattan, and my daughter Emma's eight and my daughter Sarah is six and the triplets are three I know So we're going skating at Chelsea peers. We're living on 58th and Sutton and Chelsea peers is you know on the West side and We decide you know skate. I first of all, I hate skating. The little girls love it. So we go to skating. It's like $100 a pop.

I'm so stressed out. And the triplets, we decide to take them along because they're going to play at Chelsea Pears. And you never take the triplets out because it's scary. And you put them in the car, you strap them in. And they're fighting about something. They're three. They fight about everything. They're fighting about whether it's raining or not. It's raining. It's not raining. It's...

It isn't... They're like morons. You love them, but they're like a little gang. They're cute. They're cute, though. They're nine today. Anyway, so... Yeah, they're good. They still fight. So anyway, so you get in the car, you're very stressed out, and you're thinking about your life, and you're thinking, oh, God, we used to do brunch on Sunday, and now it's skating, and you're feeling a little bad for yourself. And you don't want to feel bad for yourself, because you know you're blessed with five children,

triplets, whatever. Anyway, so you head down the FDR drive, we head down the FDR drive, we're going to Chelsea Pierce, everybody's okay, and we get off at 23rd Street, right? Because we're heading west. And I go to reach for my wallet. And it's not there. And I'm like, where's my wallet? Oh my god, I left it on top of the car. I know, with my cell phone.

And the girls are like in the back. The two girls, the oldest, they face traffic. And Sarah's like, oh, daddy, you know, I saw a flying paper. And we thought it was snowing, it was really fun, it was green and wide. And I go, my god, I'm freaking out my wallets in there. I'm yelling at my wife. I'm getting very depressed, because I'm already depressed.

But I can kind of mask it. But now that this happens, I'm really showing it. And you don't want to show it in front of the kids, but you can't help it. You want to not, but you can't help it You want to not but you can't help it so The kids are like crying now because I'm like I don't have my wallet I can't pay for skating what are we gonna do and the kids all of a sudden like oh my god daddy doesn't have any money

We're not gonna be able to eat the girls are crying in the back. We had to Chelsea peers and I don't know I'm freaking out. I dropped them off I I tell my wife I'm going home, I drop them off, I tell my wife, I'm going home, I get on my bicycle, and you know, you really can't get on the FDR drive on your bicycle. I'm thinking my wallet must be there somewhere, and I spend about three hours looking for my wallet, and I cannot find it anywhere. Everything is in there. So this is Sunday, I'm very sad.

I have to cancel all my credit cards if you've ever gone through that. And Monday, I have to go out my new license. And it's very upsetting. And Tuesday, we're heading to school because they all go to the United Nations school, which is another story, it's like $100,000. Anyway, but we're heading down the FDR drive. It's Tuesday morning. And Emma says, Daddy, I see your wallet. I'm like, you do not. You're eight. You're in third grade. What do you know? She said, because I'm still upset.

So when you're upset, you're nasty to your kids, but you don't want to be, but it's okay. And so I said, she said, oh, daddy, I said, well, I'm telling you, you didn't see my wallet. And so we go to school and I say to my wife, you know, maybe she saw my wallet. So we drop them off, I don't even care, I guess they get up to school and triplets her home

with a babysitter and I say, we're gonna go on the FDR drive. So we go on and I swear to God at 49th Street, my wallet, I see my wallet. It is there where she said it was and I see it, but I can't stop. And I say to my wife, you know what? I love you. We've been married like 15 years. You're going to get out of the car and get my wallet.

He's like, no, I'm not. I'm like, please, I'll buy you something. And so we go around again, because I can't stop. And I wait. I keep going around. And I said, what if we make believe we break down on an FDR drive and she says, okay, I said, listen, you love me, please, I'm not doing well and you'll do this for me. And she says, okay, and so she gets out of the car. I stop the car. I put on my hazards and

my wife goes and she retrieves my wallet. And she says, wow, down the FDR drive, a little bit, I see credit cards, and I see your driver's license. Meanwhile, it's like three days later. And I'm like, okay, let's go around again. I stop again because we have to go a little further. And I don't want to make her walk down the FDR drive. I mean, what kind of a husband am I?

So we go on the FDR drive again, and she retrieves credit cards. It's amazing. Of course, everything's canceled, but I'm feeling good, right? And we retrieve my wallet, and then I swear the next day, a little further down, the girl see my cell phone. But you know what? I've decided that I don't want that. It's been raining. I can't make my wife get out of the car again.

So I decide to leave the cell phone alone. And I want you to know, I keep this wallet in my desk at work. It has tire tracks on it. It has broken credit cards. But every time I have a bad day, which is often, because I'm an accountant, and it's painful. And like in an auditor all come into the office or something, and I'll say, you know what?

I found my wallet on the FDR drive. So life turns out for me in the end. Thank you. That was Josh Blow. Josh is an accountant, and as you heard, he and his wife raised five kids in New York City. They're almost all adults and out of the house now. The wallet from this story is still in the top drawer of his office more than ten years later.

He told me, if you find your wallet on the FDR drive after several days, second chances are not only a possibility, but a reality. To see a family photo from the time the story took place, of five kids jumping all over him in the couch, go to the mall.org. It's like a beautiful chaos. Josh says, when you look at them, I want you to realize that you too would mistakenly leave stuff on the top of your car and drive away. Our next storyteller is Navrioska Mateo. She developed this in a Moth community workshop where we partnered with the organization New Women New Yorkers,

which supports immigrant women of all levels of education and English proficiency. At the time this story takes place, Navrioska is living in the Dominican Republic and her ultimate dream job has always been to be a computer network engineer. So with that, here's Navrioska live at the Moff at the Bronx Museum in New York City. So, I'm almost as straight out of the open network engineer. And I've been applying to the same job for the past five years every possible way every day web page driving physical resumes to the company because it's my dream company and that's a job of one so I'm not giving up. Now, I'm one month away from graduation day.

It's important that I mentioned that I had this idea of becoming an engineer when I was tiny. And I went to one of my moms that is here. Class, she's a construction engineer. I didn't know by then, but I know now it was physics. They had a humongous boat on the whiteboard with water and lines, and it was like the forces to the water, emerge, whatever. I found it fascinating, so I decided that was what it was going to do when it was grown

up, so I went back home and I run it on my life plan, becoming an engineer by 20-something. And it was happening. So I'm on that mental state that every new degree has of, I know everything and everybody else knows nothing. And I'm cocky and confident and I'm there walking from one classroom to another and I get a phone call. It was them. The people for my dream job they wanted me so I accepted and I was happy. Now one weekend into my dream job I get to dress up super fancy and I feel like I can conquer the world every time I sit on my two flat

street, my keyboard, and my mouse, and connect to the matrix. And on some point I realized that I didn't learn a thing on college because every day I had to go back home and study harder to actually perform the next day on the job. So now it's a Friday and like every other Friday we're there talking about our projects. How it wins, you know, you don't want to delay because you want to go home and enjoy the weekend. And on that, it's chill mood. My big bus comes in and he looks stressed. No bueno on a Friday. And he says, stop

what you're doing. We need this to get done by 5 p.m. So he hands off this like no pet with commands. I'm an over planner. Don't hand a no pet with things I have to do. And don't give me time to think about what I have to do because that's stressful. That's not part of my life plan. Well, whatever is the bus. So I grabbed my commands, I get back to my nozzle display, I sit there, I open a terminal with the equipment. So I grabbed my first line,

I put it on the terminal, I press enter and it worked. Not bad. I grabbed the second one, and I put it on the terminal, I press enter and it worked. Not bad. I grabbed the second one and I put it on the terminal and I press enter and it worked. So now I'm feeling confident and I grab like 10 and I put it on the terminal and I press enter and it worked. And I grabbed 30 and I put it on the terminal and I press enter and everything stopped. The terminal stopped. My heart stopped. And the network stopped working. So I hear one of my coworkers saying, hey, I have no phone.

I'm like, oh, hey, I have no network. Yeah, I know. I know, dude. So I do what we all do when we don't know, what to do with a computer and I start clicking phonetically. And on that stage, my big boss comes and look at me like, come on, move me away and start doing the same thing,

clicking on my mouse, clicking on the keyboard, he knows it's not working. I don't do that, I already did that. So he enters on emergency mode, which means I have to hard reset the router. And nobody else got to go to the doctor center right now and fix what you broke. So I grabbed my car keys,

I get to my car and I speed drive from 0.8 to 0.0 B. Headquarters, data center. The driver's 30 minutes, I did it like in five and I swear, I think I didn't kill anyone. I get there. I open the door of the data center, which is like a big freezer with a bunch of blinking lights. I get to the right equipment.

It has the name. We stare at each other. I get to the right equipment. It has the name. We stare at each other. I get to the back of the rack. I find the power core. And I unplug it. And I plug it back. And I wait. In those minutes waiting for the equipment to come back to life

were the longest minutes of my life. I had to rethink all of my life plan because I blew up my dream job in less than a year. Was I going to become a chef now? I was for sure not working for another telecommunication company because in Dominican Republic, they're three and I'm already in one and I blew up the network. So eventually the router comes back to life and I feel nothing because I'm getting fired so I grabbed my car keys and I throw back to my boss office. And I said, walk him, but I'm like crawling, the laying that Inevitabla. I get to his desk and it looked like a mess. He has a bunch of paper, so one of those paper

was my resignation letter for sure. And he does something with his hand and I interpret that he says, like, sit human. So I sit. And he started talking, but I was barely listening because I was replaying all the stupid things, like getting over-confident and entering 30 lines on a command line and blowing up a network. And I'm there on this mask in my head. He says, nobody else can, but vice-presidents of technology

just left my office and he wants your hat. Because you didn't only blew up or internal network, you also affected ourselves. So I'm in the company who loves a lot of money. So I will fire me. And he's like, but I'm not going to fire you. And I'm a septic dude. How come?

Are you sure? Did you just said what you? Yeah. I'm not going to fire you because if you don't screw up, you're not going deep enough. And he sent me off to my desk. And I'm like, oh, okay, I guess I still have my job. And life goes on.

And it took me a long time to click back on my computer without throwing up. But I got there. And I learned that day that having a life plan is good, but it's not written on stone and I have to be able to modify it. And that making mistakes is part, essential part of being human. Thank you. A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A failing is part of the job and if something is broken, focus on your capacity to fix it. She calls herself an artistic nerd hybrid.

She likes to hike, sing, and read, and she says her main challenge in life is satisfying her never-ending curiosity. After our break, a dilemma. What do you wear to your divorce when the Moth Radio Hour continues? The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by PRX. This is the Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Sarah Austin-Geness.

In this hour, we're hearing stories of second chances. This is a theme I'm somewhat obsessed with. My parents divorced each other when I was five and remarried each other when I was nine. So the idea of at least considering a second chance is in my blood. I think about it all the time. One friend says, I'm from the recycling tradition. These stories have so far been about being given a second chance and a do-over, but sometimes you give yourself a second chance. Here's Faith Saley, live at them off. The night before I flew to my divorce, I was standing alone in my bra and underwear and basic black pumps trying on dress after dress and it wasn't sexy and I wasn't sassy.

I didn't have any girlfriends with me though it it would have been a perfect, chick-lit, rom-com scenario for me to give a gay, divorcee-a-fashion show. I didn't have any kids to watch me, though at 38, I wanted them. And I didn't even have my own mirror to look in, because I had been subletting a furnished apartment, ever since moving to Manhattan from LA during the separation from the man we will now call my wasbend. What I did have was this hot desire to show up in court wearing something that would say to my wasbend, see what you've been missing, when he had not been missing me at all and had in fact been dating a bartender

cum fit model who was a decade younger than I was. And if you're wondering whether I googled her, oh yes I did. And she was, I mean you can say it with me, she was blonde, she was tall, she was thin, and tan. According to her modeling photos online, she enjoyed writing a bicycle in a bikini with no helmet. And I realized that focusing on what to wear to the funeral of your marriage may sound silly or jizune, if I may use that word, and I'd really like to.

But I knew that being in my wasvins presence for the first time in ten months would yank my heart and quicken my pulse. And that sounds like the stuff of romance novels. But it was really the stuff of corrosive karma. I met this funny handsome tall man when we were in our 20s. And he was quite bald then because he had just survived cancer. And I was quite sad then because my mother had just died of cancer.

And I think we thought we would heal each other. And the sweetness of our early days had diminishing returns. And I loved him madly, slavishly. And he loved me too. We just loved each other wrong. And I always loved him more. My lawyer had promised that there would be no drama in the court room because we didn't have a single shared asset.

I mean, we had these Creighton Barrel gift cards, which were the only things we registered for because we couldn't agree on anything else. But besides that, nothing. And all we had to do to release ourselves from our marriage was sign this piece of paper, but my husband wanted to see me in court. And I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what I would say or feel, and I didn't know what he wouldn't say or wouldn't feel.

So my literal appearance was the only thing I could control about my legal appearance. And honestly, it was such a relief to focus on something as superficial as a dress after years, years of addressing deeper concerns. You know, I got to dig in my closet rather than my soul. Here's what it came down to. I wanted to look beautiful for my divorce. I wanted the man to whom I was saying I don't, to look at me and think I was pretty and feel sad he was losing me because that would mean I'd mattered.

Also, focusing on what to wear to my divorce was an easy way to be glib about something painful. I mean, honestly, there is something very chic about flying in from New York to Los Angeles to get divorced. You know, it's kind of Auntie Mame. And my friend Joe begged me to wear a black pillbox hat with lace that would cover my eyes. And one of my brothers told me to look very law in order, and my other brother told me to look sex in the city fabulous.

I seriously considered wearing one of my reliable beloved Diane von Fersenberg wrap dresses, but I didn't want to taint it with bad juju. The funny thing is, my wedding dress was a cinch to pick out. I shopped for it alone because I didn't have a mother or a sister, and it was the very first one I tried on. I was getting married in a 15th century chapel in Scotland, and this dress, it had ethereal gauntlets leaves. And this was way before I ever saw a Game of Thrones episode.

And I went back to look at the dress with my best male girlfriend, whose name is Manfred. And when he saw me in my wedding dress, he whispered just one word, inevitable. Sadly, Manfred was not with me when I was picking out my divorce trousseau. And so I had this pile of dresses on my bed. I didn't buy anything new. It seemed wasteful. And I was going through my dresses in my closet, one by one. And there was this one dress I kept dismissing because it was very grown up and elegant. And the neediest part of me thought I had to look a little bit sexy in court.

But this dress told me to step in it. And I awkwardly zip myself up, and it was the one. A silk Nanette Lapor with this black and tan and purple pattern, but somehow simultaneously evokes peacock feathers and leopard print, which I thought was an appropriate Yin Yang combination. And the clanchor was, it had pockets which lent it, you know, an air of casual insusions that I did not possess. But I didn't realize until after I packed the dress, why it was so extraordinary.

And I remembered that I had bought it at a sample sale a year earlier in Manhattan on a cold fall evening. And as I was leaving the sale, my wasvincalled with some legal threat. And as I was walking through Times Square with the phone to my ear and my arms laden with bags of beautiful, deeply discounted clothes. It occurred to me. I could hang up on him. And this had never occurred to me before, because I spent years clinging to his every word.

And I did it. I just hung up. And it was like giving myself keys to my own cage. And every time he called back and I didn't answer, I got a little less sick to my stomach. And I just kept walking through the cold night air. And the world kept spinning. And the lights and time square didn't even flicker.

And that's the origin story of my divorce stress. The accessories were cake. My mother's gold Celtic cross as if it offered some kind of armor, beige patent heels which we know elongate the legs. My toenails were painted modern girl, and my fingernail polish was starter wife. And I cared about the jewelry and the shoes and the nail polish, because I cared about those things on my wedding day. And on a meaningful day, whatever you wear can have meaning, because it becomes what I wore that day. Whether that day is a

beginning or an end. When I get out of the taxi at the municipal courthouse of Los Angeles, my lawyer escorts me up to the eighth floor and we exit the elevator and we're walking down this long hallway, and it's like, it's like my attorney is some weird legal dad who's giving me away on my divorce day. But what really gives me away are my heels, which are clicking so loudly on the tile floor, and I had wanted to see my husband before he heard me, but it was also instant. I was about 50 feet away from the courtroom and I saw him pacing outside and at the same

moment he heard me and he looks up and my heart lunges. It is crazy, it is crazy how fast your heart can be when you are approaching the person, you are divorcing. And he looked strong and somehow taller. And I caught my breath, seeing him, this man that I had married just a few years earlier under a gothic nave, instead of the fluorescent lighting of a courthouse. And the sun had streamed through the stained glass on our wedding day. And I remember trying to slow my walk down the aisle because my husband was staring at me like he never had before.

And I just thought, this aisle is too short to hold this moment. And when he saw me for the first time in my inevitable wedding dress, he blinthed his eyes so hard and fast as if his own tears surprised him. And my veil was a blusher. It covered my face. And for once in our whole relationship, he was the naked and emotional one,

and I was the less transparent one. And I remember thinking, someday I will tell our children how their father looked at me on this day. But on this day, on the eighth floor of the Superior Court, the father of the children we never ended up having looked at me for half a second. He glanced at me by accident, really, and then turned on his heels and went into the courtroom where he studied his iPad with intense concentration until the judge arrived. And when the judge arrives, we sit in this row,

and it's my husband and his lawyer and me and my lawyer. And for a half an hour, I try to get him to look at me. I crane my neck. I scoot my chair back. I'm like pushing it back on the back two legs, which is not safe. And I'm twisting my torso. And I just wanna give him a small sad smile, the kind where the corners of your mouth turn down. Just some kind of respectful closure.

For the decade we spent failing to love each other properly. And now my heart's not beating fast. It just sinks into my gut and I'm thinking, dude, you married me. You invented hilarious nicknames for me. And you won't even look at me this one last time. I mean, this is it. And he never looked my way.

I thought he wanted to see me in court. And after all that energy I put into deciding how I should look, I never wondered whether he would look, which is ironic, and maybe inevitable. Just two years later, I wear another wedding dress. This one more exquisite than the first, because when I walked down the aisle in it, my first child is inside me.

And soon after marrying the man I call my husband, I am in bed, it's early evening, I'm exhausted, and I'm nauseated, and I'm flipping through a magazine to try to put me to sleep, and I see this ad for naked juice with this fit young lady out for a run, and I'm just kind of sleepy sleep and I see this ad for naked juice with this fit young lady out for a run and I just kind of sleep me and I think oh I can't run and oh that juice looks so good. And then I do this slow- can't run and I'm 40 years old and I won't fit into any of my dresses for quite a while. I wish I could go back and tell that motherless, partnerless, childless woman standing in front of a

rented mirror, trying on dress after dress for her divorce. That would seem to fit you now, may not suit you at all a season hence, and you'll outgrow old favorites and slip effortlessly into something new. Thank you. That was Faith Saley. Faith is an Emmy-winning contributor to CBS Sunday morning, my all-time favorite show, and a regular on NPR's Weight-Way Don't Tell Me. She hosts Science Goes to the Movies on PBS. Her memoir Approval Junkie is out now. Fun fact, Faith attended Oxford University on a Rhodes Scholarship, and she said her fellow scholars went on to become things like governors and Pulitzer Prize winners, while she landed on a Star Trek Deep Space

9 collectible trading card, which is now worth hundreds of cents. After our break, an old timer is reunited with his family, when the Moth Radio Hour is reunited with this family when the Moth Radio Hour continues. 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 Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Sarah Austin-Geness. This hour is about resets and do-overs and more swings at the ball. Our next and last storyteller is Sherman O.T. Powell.

And O.T. stands for Old Timer. It's a nickname he was given while he was in prison, and it's stuck. O.T. is like a cat with nine lives, and he's told his stories at the moth for decades. Dame Wilburn, another moth storyteller and regular mainstage host, talked to O.T. about his moth history.

She credits O.T. with inspiring her to tell stories. I'm here talking to you and I can't even express how excited I am. I heard your story about being a pickpocket. It was the first story I heard on the moth. Can you just tell me anything about what it's like to be a storyteller? My stories was basically about the streets or hard life, and it was a change of pace when they came and asked me to do the story concerning my family. You know, I had to really rethink that, and because I knew there was going to be a lot of soft spots or issues that was going to be painful

to bring that story into tuition. But when they said that I was going to be able to do it in St. Louis, in front of my family, that kind of put a little bit more prep in my step, you might say. And when I told him that I was doing it in St. Louis, they were so happy because finally I'm coming to St. Louis to tell the story about them.

So OT's first stories are about his life on the streets, but this story is about a second chance. Here's Sherman OT Powell live at the mouth. It's a brisk autumn day. I'm on my way to Wendy's to get a couple of burgers and some chili. I know thanks to giving this ride around the corner and so is Christmas. And my pastor, he's going to want me to come have dinner with him. But I refused to this year. I refused to go there and act like I'm enjoying myself when I really wasn't. I miss my sisters, and I really miss them this time

the year. I can remember my oldest sister, her beautiful smile, and the way she would always teach me the latest dances. And my baby sister, with a pain. Everywhere I went, she wanted to go with me and my crew. And if I told her, no, she'd go tell my mother and my mother's a takeer with you anyway. But I love my baby sister.

If only they hadn't changed their phone numbers when I got out of the joint, I would have been able to find them. But this wishful thinking now, years of drug abuse and incarceration had put the promise on hold, the promise that I had made to them when I left St. Louis 34 years prior. I promised them that I would return one day and buy a house for the three of us and lower whatever separated us again. But like I say, drugs and incarceration put that on hold. Oh well, at least I'm, you know, I'm drug free today

and I got my own place. Thank you. So as I turn the corner, I see a friend of mine who I grew up with as a matter of fact, we used to hustle together. And so we embraced each other and what you're talking about some of the same people that we knew. And he told me some of them had gone straight and got jobs.

Some of them were, was back in the sentence entry. But most of them was deceased. And so I asked him, had he seen any of my sisters? He told me he hadn't, but a friend of mine's name, Tommy had, that his girlfriend, I would want my sisters. So I asked him if I gave him my phone number, would he give it to Tommy? He said he would.

And I said, cool. So about a week pass, and then about a month pass, and I so well, I was just wishful thinking. He was just shouting the door. So after about a month and a half, I'm laying in bed while I'm looking at the news and the phone rings. And I answered the phone and I hear two people trying to talk at the same time. May I speak to Sherman Powell?

I said, this is Sherman Powell. This is your sister's. I said, my sister's. Yeah, you idiot. This is your sister's. I said, Peg sister's. Yeah, you idiot. This is your sister's. I said, Peggy, Deloers. They say, yeah. I said, oh my God, I jumped out of bed,

wouldn't sit in the chair. I said, oh my God, we went to crying and reminiscing and talking and everything. I said, grandma, how's grandma doing? They said, grandma passed away about four years ago. I said, grandma. I said, you remember where grandma used to chase all of us? She had to, she was dipping stuff

and that stuff be rolling down the mouth. And she'd be wanting to kiss you and stuff. And we started laughing about that. And my older sister said, yeah, but remember what Mama got the new boyfriend and the daddy I told you before he passed away that she was the man of the house. And you wouldn't ask that man how much money

he made on his job. And what kind of car he asked, had. that you was the man of the house and you wouldn't ask that man how much money he made on this job. And what kind of call he asked, had it, and mom told you to take your button to kitchen. And I said, yeah, I said, but Peggy said, but no, no, that wasn't the one. You remember when we was going all the way to the driving for the first time? And daddy pulled behind the fellow station and told him, all of us to get in the trunk. And I said, yeah, I said, that cheap skate trying to stay $3. Yeah.

So we laughed and we laughed and continued to reminisce. So Peg said, listen, you're coming home for Christmas. You're going to be with the family. You're going to be all your family, your nieces, your nephews, your grandkids, and your sons. So I said, all right, cool, she said, I'm sending for you. So as a hunger phone up, I realized she say sons. I wanted to shoot me in all three of them. Anyway, next thing I knew I was on the plane,

Edith of St. Louis. All kinds of things was running through my mind where they'd be a nice on the phone and what they're waiting to get me there to get me a verbal spanking, you know? And what about my sons? Maybe they're waiting to jump on me when I get there for leaving them and their mother. All kind of stuff, oh, was going through my mind, you know, and what about my sons? Maybe they were waiting to jump on me when I get there

for leaving them and their mother. All kind of stuff, oh, was going through my mind, you know, and we just talked about the nice things, we didn't talk about the bad things, the stuff that I'd been through and stuff I had done, you know. All this was running through my mind, and I just felt like I always do when I'm in front of a Jewish, get ready to be sentenced.

I look for the best, I look for the worst. You know? So, I just fell asleep and let the plane come on in to say, Lewis. So once we got to say, Lewis, my sisters were waiting for me. We heard and kissed and got on in the car. My niece took us to her house. And so once we got to my niece's house, one of my great, great nieces come on.

I think she was about four or five years old. Her name is Mimi. And so she come flying out the door. She hugged me. She said, OK, Sherman, we've been waiting on you. I love you, OK, Sherman. I said, well, I love you too, sweetheart. I said, well, at least I got one in my heart.

You know? And so she grabbed me by the hand and took me into the house. And that introduced me to a bunch of my nieces and nephews. So two of my sons were over in the corner. So I walked over and I'm going to get ready to get them chapter one of my life story. And so this, listen, pop, you don't have to say anything. Mama told us about everything that happened. That you know, you had hard times and our grandparents died at the early age. Did nobody want to take you in because times was rough.

And they didn't want to extra mouth the fee. So you, you did what you had to do. So come on downstairs and have a drink with us. I said, well, I don't drink, son. I said, but I'll be down there in a minute. So they went on downstairs as they did the rest of the family members. So I went to the, back into the front room where the Christmas tree was and all the presents were on the tree. And I was sitting there and I was just reminiscing about how me and my sisters used to go on Christmas morning, wake up and go get all the presents under

the tree and tear it open, the packages and stuff and watch the expressions on my mom and father's face. And so at this time Mimi came in and she said beside me, she said, Uncle Sherman, what have you been? You, your grandmother and my mama, they used to cry when they talked about you. I said, they did, sweetheart, I said, I'm sorry. I said, Uncle Sherman was sick and that's why you couldn't come home. She said, you were sick. I said, yes, sweetheart. She said, what was wrong with you?

I said, you see all those toys under that tree? She said, yeah. I said, if I hadn't been well, I said, you see all those toys under that tree? She said, yeah. I said, if I hadn't been well, I'd have stolen all those toys and wasn't solo. She said, you were the solo? I said, yeah, because I'm concerned it was sick off of crack. I said, and I would have took all those things and sold them.

I said, crack, make you do things that you don't want to do. I said, but I'm okay now, sweetheart. So she looked at me and she seemed to accept what I said. So she got up and took about three steps and she turned around and she looked at me, she looked at the toys, she looked back at me. She said, you sure you okay, I'm sure I'm okay. So I told her, I said, yeah, I'm all right, sweetheart.

I'm good. So she went on to be with the rest of the kids. So at this time, I said, yeah, I'm all right, sweetheart. I'm good. So she went on to be with the rest of the kids. So at this time, I said to myself, I said, if I could be honest with this kid, I got to be honest with my sisters. And so I started to want to teach them where my sisters would make our dearest for the rest of the family. So I got in and I wanted to tell them about the,

beginning to tell them about the trial and tribulations that I was going to back then after I left them, but they didn't want to hear it just like my son, my oldest sister, say, listen, we didn't search for you for 34 years to hear nothing about your past, what you've been doing. All we know is that you're here now.

We know that we had a rough time growing up, we know we did what we had to do to survive. So my baby sister said, in any way you're here now, and that's all that matters. I said, well, I appreciate that, sis. So I turned the lead, the lead to walk back into the front room with my baby sister, say,

but, Sharma, I said, yes, sis, we still want that damn house. I said, oh, okay. And so, at the end of the day, my sister told me, say, listen, we're going to have, we're going to start having family union every September of Labor Day. So you're going to come back to St. Louis Labor Day of September next year. And in this time, you'll get a chance

to meet all your family members. I say, Peggy, I say, when you say all my family members, do you know I have another son? She said, yeah, I know you're Sherman, Jr. She said, we look for him, but we couldn't find it. We know he's somewhere here in St. Louis. I see you. Okay, then I just was wondering. She said, yeah, I know about Sherman Jr. So anyway, I go back to New York and for you know, and I back on the plane flying back for Labor Day. So Labor Day, where I get, we go to this big beautiful picnic park and we

have this beautiful picnic. And all my family members have come up from all over St. Louis, Kansas City, and different parts of Missouri. And I'm looking at grandkids and great, great nieces and great, great nephews. And it's just beautiful. And the kids, they've just come from school,

from dance school. So the youngsters, they're doing their little dance that they learned in school. And everybody's admired them and clapping them on and everything. So then when they get through, the older people get up and get the door to lick the slide. And so I'm sitting there with my friend, Tommy. So Tommy said, man, you having a good time? I said, yeah, Tommy. He said, well, circle is complete.

I said, not yet, Tommy. The circle ain't complete yet. And Tommy said, you're talking about Sherman Jr. So I said, not yet, time is a circle, not yet. And the circle ain't complete yet. And the time is a, you tell my sermon, junior. So I said, so what do you know about Sherman, junior? He said, I talk to your sister. He said, would you like to meet him?

I said, we love to meet him. He said, well, he chairs the meeting on the other side of town for narcotics anonymous. He said, I'll come pick you up tomorrow, we can go. So the next day, he comes and get me, and we go to a discharge what they're holding us, no colleagues are not on the second floor. And so as I'm going up the steps I'm thinking you know I've forgiven myself and most of my

family has forgiven me but will he forgive me? You know and all you know my stomach is tight. It's beginning to be hard. I'm hardly breathing and I'm thinking it's the infosima but I know it's fear. You know, what is he going to say? Will he be the one that messes up the circle? But anyway, I said, I'm too far gone to turn around and as my old cliché, look for the best, hope for the best and look for the worst.

And so I go through the doors and with Tommy, we sit down and he starts to meet and he's a, my name is Sherman P and he gives the Apple and 12th steps of narcotics and now I'm just in the and and 12 of the things to go along with it, all the rooms and regulations. And he says, so if anyone is here, there's new and would like to stand up and have something to say you do so now. So I stood, I said, my name is Sherman P. I said, I just like to know that I am here for family reunion and I really appreciate being here and hope that this would be the beginning of something that I'll do every year that I come for family reunion.

So as I sit back down, the people are looking at me, then they're looking at him, they're looking back at me and then he stands up, he's a year, that's my father. And like y'all, this is the first time I've ever seen him. He said, but I'm not gonna ask him where he's being, because Tommy told me that he has seven years clean, so that means he's been in the rooms and narcotics anonymous. And therefore, he's been in the trenches,

like we've been in the trenches fighting this addiction. He said, I'm not gonna ask him where he's going because I know what he's running from, because I know what he's been in the trenches like we've been in the trenches fighting this addiction. He said, I'm not going to ask him where he's going because I know what he's running from. Because I know what he's been running from. He's been running from the demons of relapse. So I'm not going to ask him not to that. All I'm going to ask is the God be grateful enough and hope that he will give us 34 years of quality time together moving forward. And that's all I got to say about that. And as he said this here,

tears is running down my eyes. Tears is running down my eyes and I say yes, the circle is finally complete. And so I felt Tommy nut to me on the side, and I turned around and looked at him. He said, God is good. And I looked at him and I say, all the time, Tommy, all the time. That was Sherman O.T. Power. I called O.T. so often to check in and work with him on that story that he said, I'd make a great parole officer. O.T. was born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri. He's a graduate of the Moth Community Program, and he's currently studying to become a substance abuse counselor.

Here's Dame Wilburne again talking to O.T. She hosted the Moth Main Stage when he told the story in St. Louis and his family was in the audience. I got a chance to host that show in St. Louis and I got a chance to see your sisters. As soon as we called out for them, they all stood like your whole family, stood up. So I know they were clapping you on the back. But anything you can tell me about, like like after the show how they felt about it. Of course, they were once again, well my older sister is very emotional anyway, so she's going to crash and drop it at. But it was so funny because I've always had the church family, but I was young for my biological family.

But I never dreamed of, you know, I just wanted to see my sisters. I never thought about you. They had kids and they kids. You know, I never thought about my son. I did that dad, kids, and I had grandkids and great grandkids. And so when I finally reunited with them, it was amazing to see that it was just us for me and my three sisters that was responsible for all that. That was Sherman O.T. Powell talking with the Moths, Dame Wilbur.

So a thought to end this hour about second chances, there's a life cycle philosophy in the Vedic tradition. It's a circle of creation, maintenance, and destruction. We need a little destruction before creation is possible. It's a reminder that if you're in the midst of destruction, creation may be around the corner. So thanks to all of our storytellers in this hour and thank you for listening. That's it for this episode of the Moth Radio Hour. We hope you'll join us next time. You're host this hour with Sarah Austin Janess, Sarah also directed the stories in the show along with Jennifer Hickson and Chloe Salmon. The rest of the most directorial staff

includes Catherine Burns, Sarah Haberman and Meg Boles production support from Timothy Looley. Most stories are true, as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers. Our theme music is by the Drift. Other music in this hour from Pocci LaForge, Nightmares on Wax, Cackie King, Bombay Dub Orchestra, and Brian Bromber. You can find links to all the music we use at our website. The Mothradio Hour is produced by me Jay Allison with Vicki Merrick at Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. This hour is produced with funds from the National Endowment for the Arts. The Moth Radio Hour is presented by PRX. For more about

our podcast, for information on pitching us your own story, and everything else, go to our website TheMoth.org. you