A True Story for Ron Anderson

Why tell a story?

Why not just tell the truth?

Because sometimes the truth is so unbelievable,

Our ears melt.

Our hearts turn to stone.

Our eyes roll inward

Until all we can see is dark.

A story helps.

We pretend to be someone almost like us,

In a reality almost like ours.

Someone who may not have all of the answers,

But who does have all of the lines,

And knows when to speak and when to be silent

And when to fight and when to cry.

Someone who can make people laugh,

Who can stare fear in the eyes

And find its gentleness

And scrape out the grime

To reveal the light beneath.

You performed for us.

You were not afraid to be a hero

Or a villain

Or a misanthrope

Or a father.

You taught us.

You seemed to have a script

Written inside the walls of your heart.

The big questions did not make your ears melt.

They did not bind your tongue.

You told the story

Of how to be bold,

Innovative,

Committed,

Courageous.

How to scrape away the grime,

And find the light beneath.

Before you took the stage, you raided a prop closet.

All of the mirrors it contained

Were arranged so that

As the story became frightening

And we could hardly believe it

And we balled our fists so tightly we cut our palms,

Your light ricocheted through the theater and burst through our dark,

And made our eyes turn outward,

And our ears open wider,

And our hearts beat harder,

Because you told your story and

Your story was true.

This story was originally published August 23, 2016 at 6:04 PM with the headline "A True Story for Ron Anderson."