Storytelling is as old as humanity.
No matter who or where one believes we from, there is evidence of this human behaviour throughout the documented history of time. One could even say, our way of connecting through stories is the essence of being human.
As one would imagine, my own love of stories is the main reason I became a writer, at did so at a very young age. Storytelling is where I’ve spent the majority of my life’s time, energy and focus.
But what has kept me working in journalism are the little sparks of magic I get to witness in the pursuit of storytelling. These are special moments when I know that the stories we tell in this newspaper are connecting with real people out in the community.
In short, it’s how I know our work can make a difference.
And one of those little magical moments took place this week, upon the opening of our office door. This is, you should know, how most of these moments happen. Not by phone. Not by email. Definitely not by Zoom.
Someone will walk in looking for a place to share some information, an anecdote, a smile. And this is what happened on Wednesday this week, when we were treated to a visit from a representative of the Community of Christ Church. She was thrilled to be visiting, and she had a cheque in her hand.
And this cheque had a story.
Now, I regret to inform you that I have been sworn to secrecy for parts of this story, in order to protect the actual donor’s anonymity. But there are things I can share. And I am compelled to, for the reasons stated above.
The cheque in her hand was for a cool $100. It came from a congregant, who wishes to remain nameless, and it’s written for Chilliwack’s Julie Callaghan.
You may remember Julie. She was one of the women who was directly in a position to try to help a man whose wheelchair was stuck on the train tracks. Despite their best efforts, the rescue was too daunting, and tragedy ensued.
And tragedy continues for Julie; in January, we published a story by Jennifer Feinberg about the impending loss of Julie’s home. Her lawyers were hoping to urge along some action with the case, while at the same time, using their power to help pump up fundraising efforts for her.
The community responded kindly, and her GoFundMe is still active for those so inclined to learn more and to help.
But every now and then, for various reasons, we get to be the ones to deliver donations to her lawyers for her. We know how good that feels, to be a small part of a big, loving community. Well, that was the look on this woman’s face, as she told us the (secret) story of how this $100 came to exist.
It’s a beautiful story. We all clutched our hearts. We sighed and smiled. We thanked the woman, and promised a level of anonymity to be upheld.
But as the moments ticked by after her visit, I realized there is still an underlying message to share. It’s one of the power of a story to teach us, to move us into action, and to stay connected.
Julie’s story is harrowing, heartbreaking, and I don’t mean to dredge it up and cause sadness here.
Instead, I hope that readers remember why we reporters do what we do, even as it seems like journalism as we’ve all known it is crumbling away. While there is sometimes tragedy in our pages, there is also hope.
As long as there has been language there have been stories, storytellers, listeners and readers. And when moments like this happen, it’s a nice reminder to me that there always will be.
And, for those still wanting to donate to Julie Callaghan, you can do so by visiting Carnegie Hero About To Lose Her Home on GoFundMe. In the meantime, I’m about to go drop off a cheque to one of my local heroes.
READ MORE: Chilliwack woman hailed a ‘hero’ in train-rescue attempt could lose home