My 46er Journey - Part 4 - Giant Mountain

Making our descent down Giant Mountain

Christmas 2017 was different for me than any other Christmas before.  10 years prior I spent Christmas morning curled up under the tree passed out from taking a bunch of pills the night before.  I wasn't able to wake up to see my 4 year old son open his presents or to open up my present from him, a picture frame with his picture in it that they had made at preschool.  My ex-wife and I had just split up but she had let me come by to be there Christmas morning, and that was the way I responded.  I knew it was to be the last time my family would be together, and at the time the pain was so great I felt it better to run from it than to deal with it.  That was around the time my addictions really started taking off, and that event was slowly trumped by many others and quickly fell in to a hidden area in the back of my mind.  I forgot about it and didn't talk about it until 9 years later.  I cherish that picture and have since come to terms with what happened that day and in the years to follow.

I hated Christmas after that, the season, the idea, the day, I wanted nothing to do with it.  I always sucked it up as best as possible to give my son a good Christmas, but even he knew just how much I didn't like it, though not really knowing why.  By Christmas 2017 though things were starting to change.  My perspective on life was better and for the first time in many many years I had something to look forward to that would help to drag my attention elsewhere, the Adirondacks.

In part 3 I talked about our trip up Macomb Mountain a few days before Christmas.  I came back home and spent Christmas eve and Christmas day being of service to others.  Others who may have gone through similar situations but were now trying to better their lives too.  I had experience to share, both good and bad, and I was able to do so.  I also knew that in just a few hours I would be back to the place where I really connect with God and find peace, the mountains.

Christmas on Old Rag summit

Before we headed back to New York though, Dan and I decided to take a trip up Old Rag here at home in Shendandoah National Park.  Old Rag was were this whole thing started for us, and we had made a decision to climb it at least once a month for an entire year.  We first climbed it on Easter morning, then on my birthday.  We climbed it Father's Day, and the day after my sobriety date.  My son and I went up it Thanksgiving morning, so Christmas Day seemed the logical choice.  It was a cold climb, but compared to what we were to encounter in a few hours, it felt like standing in Badwater Basin in July.  This also turned out to be my 50th summit since April 16th of that year.  As we descended I took a moment and stopped where we watched our first sunrise on the mountain, I didn't want to leave.  The peace that this journey had brought me was overwhelming and I just wanted to stay in that moment forever, I finally made my way down and back home to pack up for the long drive to New York.

We watched the weather again, it was to be drier this time, but the cold, that was a different story.  The north east is notoriously cold, but this week they were calling for an Arctic blast to come through that would plummet temperatures well below zero.  I was ready for this, or so I hoped.  I had ordered new mittens since our trip a few days earlier.  These were rated for -40° so in theory, my hands should be good this time.  As we made the drive north the temperatures went south.  Topping out at -9° when we got to our hotel to check in.  Nothing wakes you up quite as fast as the freezing air hitting your face, and I was in love.

We stopped by Wal-Mart and stocked up on foods for our weekend ahead.  We had planned to have a room 2 nights this time and bought food to help save money.  We had layers upon layers of clothes and were ready to tackle this beast they call Giant Mountain.  We woke up early and started getting ready and made the hour drive to the trailhead.  While gearing up it quickly became evident just how cold it was going to be that day by how quickly everything started to freeze.  We got ready as fast as possible and hit the trail.  Up and up and up.  We were both easily carrying 35+ pounds in our packs.  What we didn't consider with the cold temperatures was that once we started moving, our bodies would warm up, and we didn't need all the crap we had, but we were already in to this journey, and I wasn't going back down just to come back up, so we carried on.

The climb up Giant was tough.  The cold, the weight, the slope, the snow, it was a long slog but we carried on.  I noticed on the way up that the hair on my face around my mouth and nose was starting to form ice, this was a new one for me, and very cool.  Ice beards are a weird thing, something you take pride in.  Even more is the snot that rolls down uncontrollably and freezes helping to form more ice.  I guess it's like the lumberjack beard of mountaineers, but it's a truly unique experience that you learn to really enjoy.

My first summit handstand

About 3/4 of a mile from the summit we finally decided to drop our packs.  We were close enough that we knew we wouldn't need anything in them and if we got into trouble one person could quickly retrieve them.  We made it to the summit and the wind coming up from Keene Valley was relentless.  It was COLD!!  Temperatures were around -20° but with a windchill easily below -30°.  We celebrated and took some pictures before our cameras froze up, but one thing happened on the summit that would become a regular celebration for me.  Something told me to do a handstand.  I had not done a handstand in probably 20+ years, but hey, when in Rome right?  It took a few attempts but we finally got a picture of me doing a handstand.

Summit of Giant Mountain; 7 of 46

We headed back down the mountain using our new descent technique, the Adirondack Butt Slide.  One of the most fun things about climbing the Adirondacks in the winter is that EVERYTHING is covered in snow, including the rock and root filled terrain that you climb on in the summer.  So the logical and entertaining way to descend is to plop down on your ass and go!  Our laughter echoed through the woods and deep in to my soul.  I was having the time of my life, and it was still Christmas season.

We made the trip back to the hotel to rest and get ready for the next day, but all I could think about was how much fun it was to be at -30°, at Christmas, surrounded by snow, and at perfect peace with the person starring back at me in the mirror.  I had come a long way since that Christmas Day 10 years prior, I had conquered many other mountains before this Giant, and even before that first ascent up Old Rag 8 months prior.  I had many more mountains to go, but the journey so far had been quite amazing.  Dan fell asleep first that night, and as I laid there listening to him cut down a forest with snores I kept thinking about the recent events that had happened, knowing that this would be a Christmas I would always remember, and for good reasons this time.

Giant summit, looking down in to Keene Valley

My 46er Journey - Part 3 - Macomb Mountain

Starting out on the trail to Macomb Mountain

I've spent the majority of my life living in Virginia, our "harsh winters" consist of a few snowflakes, cold rain, and dead everything.  When I was 15 years old I spent a year at a boarding school in the mountains of Pennsylvania and got my first taste of a real winter, but nothing like the true winters I have always dreamed about.  As a kid I loved Christmas, this trend continued for years until it lost it's novelty, and I just became a lonely Grinch.  I had decided that 2017 was going to be different.  You see, I had been out of work for a few months due to an injury sustained on Mount Mitchell in September, coupled with my depression and just daily struggles.  I finally had a job offer and was anxiously waiting for it to come through.  In the meantime, Dan and I planned a trip to Mount Mitchell for some winter climbing.  While rehabbing my knee and gathering up the necessary gear for our adventure, our focus shifted to the Adirondacks once again.

We finally made a decision to go and try our hand at a true winter climbing experience, and experience it was going to be.  We planned to head up for a weekend in the Adirondacks.  As the day approached we closely monitored the weather only to see the chances of snow stay steady.  We were committed, and still a bit ignorant.  Okay, we were very ignorant, but we were determined to conquer the Dix range.  You can commence laughing now.

At the trail head

Snowshoes, microspikes, 8 meals...each, stove, gloves, jackets, and a partridge in a pear tree (hey, it was Christmas) in hand we hit the road, ADK bound.  The trip was long as usual, but we were stoked to hit the trail.  We got to the Elk Lake parking lot around 1 am and decided to catch some Z's before hitting the trail.  As we settled in to the car it started to snow.  For this southern boy, it was truly magical.  We awoke around 6 am and started to gear up, layers, and layers, and layers.  Imagine Ralphy from A Christmas Story.  That was us.  We started the trudge through the 2 inches of fresh powder toward the trail head.  Great conversation, and heavy packs.  We reached the trail head and signed in around 7 am.  We were passed by a group of 5 heading to finish their winter 46.  After a few too many minutes long farting around taking pictures my hands were going numb.  Less than an hour in to this, and my hands were numb.

So here is that wonderful plot twist.  6 years earlier I had caught hypothermia one night, this was during my wonderfully successful drinking career.  I fell in a puddle in 15° weather one night and by the grace of God was found and treated.  I had never told anyone about that night out of the shame of the situation, but here I was, in single digit weather, with numb hands, heading in to the wilderness.  Do I swallow my pride and inform my partner of my situation, or continue to keep my experience a secret.  I opted to inform him of my situation.  Because once you catch hypothermia once, you're more susceptible to catching it again, and if that happens, my life is literally in his hands.  This was also good because it allowed me to start to remove some of that shame I had carried.  That is a major part of this recovery journey, and things I have learned literally, in the woods.

We carried on my hands warmed up thanks to Dan's mittens and some hand warmers, but my pride began to heal too.  We reached the Slide Brook Lean-To and decided to cook.  We made a breakfast and learned just how rough this cooking in the winter was to be.  It took forever to boil the water and while we waiting, everything started to freeze.  Welcome to the North Rebel child.

After breakfast we again hit the trail.  Destination Macomb Mountain, and the Macomb Slide.  We read about it, had seen some pictures, but we had no clue what we were in for.  As we made our way up the heard path we started to see this giant snow covered opening going up the mountain, "That's where we're going??  Uh oh...".  As the path led us to the slide and we first made our way out on to this open expanse of snow, the adrenaline started.  We slogged our way out on to it and then suddenly the earth gave way beneath me.  Or so it felt, you see there was about 5 feet of snow in some of these spots.  And without caution, or the snowshoes which were securely strapped on my pack, you sink right in.  "Here we go" I thought.

When I was in middle and high school, I had made a deal with my Uncle.  I would read X amount of books and write a report on them and he would take me on a trip.  One of the books I read was Jon Krakauer's "Into Thin Air".  From that moment on I dreamed of climbing Mount Everest, until the drugs and alcohol became my obsession at least.  Looking up the Macomb Slide and planning my zig-zag route up, there I was with Rob Hall, heading up the Lhotse Face of Everest.  I was back to being that 13 year old kid with huge aspirations again, with the same level of ignorance.  Putting on my best Sir Edmond Hillary face I began the trek up the slide.  "One foot in front of the other, watch for avalanches, just keep moving, you can do this!!" I repeated over and over.  The snow was still falling and it seemed the mountain was still rising, but we eventually made it to the top of the slide.  Taking a moment to look back and how far we had come, we snapped some photos, sat down for a quick rest and carried on.

Summit of Macomb Mountain; 6 of 46

We finally made it to the summit, it was cold, snowy, and we were exhausted.  We had decided on the way up we were only getting one peak today.  So after a short celebration, we started to descend.  A quick stop at the Slide Brook Lean-To for food and we made the trek out.  What an adventure!!  We couldn't wait to get to the car.  There was so much more snow than when we left, which meant we had to shovel out.  Oops, we forgot about that.  Luckily we did expect it and brought a shovel, but didn't leave much energy to do so.  Thank God Dan had it in him to shovel us out, because I sure didn't.

We made our way to Queensbury and hit a McDonald's for food.  We decided to get a room for the night and spent the next day exploring Lake Placid.  It was a few days before Christmas and my love affair with winter in upstate New York had begun.  We made our way back home Christmas Eve due to some prior commitments, but were dead set to return, and a few days later we were back on our way...

My 46er Journey - Part 2 - Algonquin, Wright, and Marcy

At Marcy Dam on our way out

It was late August and as my typical summers go, I was miserable from the heat, but this particular summer was different.  It wasn't the hottest, or longest, or anything really, except I was struggling really bad with my depression.  I had already called off a few planned trips to Mount Mitchell and Spruce Knob.  I was struggling to get through each and every day just waiting to see my doctor.  A few weeks prior I had ventured in to the Adirondacks and the memory and serenity that it brought was still fresh in my mind.  My friend Dan and I were both going through some changes in life at the time and in a moment things just seemed to come to a breaking point for both of us.

It was a Tuesday afternoon and we decided we needed a break.  "How about Mt Mitchell?", "ehhh it's going to rain".  "Spruce Knob?  Mount Rogers?" we tossed back and forth.  "What about Marcy?" I said.  36 hours later we were in the car and heading north.  This was before we had a map of the high peaks, or a book, or any knowledge of really anything up there.  All we knew was we were heading to the Adirondack Loj and we were going to climb Marcy again.  We were probably 4 hours in to our 10 hour drive when we decided to knock of Algonquin and then head over to Marcy, still without a map.

I will take a moment to acknowledge that this was not one of our best ideas ever.  We were wildly ignorant to the wilderness and dangers that come along with Adirondack Park, we have since learned and actually bought a map and guide book, but not until after this part of my journey is completed.

Waterfall on the way up Algonquin

We landed at the Adirondack Loj parking lot around 4 am with intentions on sleeping for a few hours, but the adrenaline and excitement of being up all night and out of the Virginia heat and humidity drove us to grab our packs and hit the trails.  Less than a mile in we were at a trail junction and not sure which way to go, we guessed (again, we acknowledge our stupidity here).  We found our way and had only added about a half mile more to our trip.  We started towards Algonquin and hit a beautiful waterfall.  We took a break and snapped some photos, I fell in, but got a great shot.  Selfie, check, and on up the mountain we went.

When we arrived at the junction for Wrights Peak we decided to go ahead and do it since we were there.  Wrights was a great little climb, it was super windy and cloudy but we finally made it to the top.  We headed back down grabbed our packs and continued on to Algonquin.  The climb up Algonquin was tough, the toughest we had encountered thus far in the Adirondacks.  We slowly crept our way up to the top and promptly celebrated.  The clouds started to break and we got a few photos before heading down towards Lake Colden.  We knew the trek down was about 2 miles from a small printout we did have, but what we didn't realize was just how brutal that 2 miles was to be.  Step by step, stone by stone, we started down.  About a mile in we were gassed.  By this point we had been up since the previous morning and had nothing left.  We found a nice giant rock and nap time it was!!

Summit of Algonquin; 5 of 46

After a brief rest we carried on toward Lake Colden.  Beautiful is all I can say.  We marched around the lake and a few hours later, tired and hungry we finally found camp.  We set up the tent, made some grub, and settled in for the night.  We decided to get an early start the next morning.  Our plan was to try to make it to Marcy for sunrise, but without a map, we weren't really sure where we were or how far we had to go.  We started out around 2 am, we did know we had to head up Feldspar from our first trip and once we were there, we knew we were there.  Still tired and struggling from dehydration I was leading the way until I finally lost my balance and fell.  Dan called it at that point that we needed to rest and I needed water.  I curled up on the side of the trail and Dan pumped water from a puddle and cooked breakfast.  Around 7 am rehydrated and with a full belly we were back on our way.  We trekked our way back retracing our steps from our first hike and finally made our way up the south side of Marcy again.  There's just something about ascending that mountain that way that makes it truly magical.

Napping on our descent

It was cold on this ascent, around 30 degrees on the summit that day, though we didn't care.  We ate it up.  After about an hour we decided to head down and get back home.  We made our way out in great time.  Stopped for lunch and had great conversation.  About a mile before Marcy Dam we encountered this young couple whom we will never forget.  There we were feeling all bad ass from our trek and forgetting how unprepared we really were, these two kids walked by.  The poor girl carrying a Wal-Mart tent still in the box and the guy carrying an emoji pillow (you can't make this up).  They asked how far they were to the top and when we said they were still about 4 miles away they seemed deflated.  We carried on joking about how unprepared they were and how great of mountaineers we were (mountaineers carry maps, yes, I know this now).

We got back to the car and made our way back home.  36 hours in the woods, a great story, and we were now at 5 of 46 peaks.

My 46er Journey - Part 1 - Gray, Skylight, and Marcy

On the summit of Skylight looking towards Mount Marcy

It was early July 2017 and we were packed in the car and heading north.  I had been to New York a few times in my life, but never outside of the city.  This time we were heading upstate.  I was excited for a week of camping with my friend, but apprehensive about the uncertainty of a new area, new people, and new experiences.  We had planned to hike one day while there as we had just started our hiking journey.  On the agenda, a 17 mile loop including Mount Marcy, the highest point in New York state.  No problem we thought.....if we only knew.

The dream team at Marcy Dam

The trip up was long, 10+ hours, but I slept, played on my phone, and talked about life with Dan.  We eventually made it to the camp ground and unloaded.  I met my new friends Dan and Jenn and their kids, was promptly titled "savage" by their son, and we settled in for the night with excitement and anticipation for our early start the next morning.

We headed out to the Adirondack Loj while it was still dark and got there about 6 am.  We suited up with our camera gear, snacks, water, and hit the trail.  2 miles in we arrived at Marcy Dam as the sun beams burst over the mountain tops.  Break one, we snapped some photos, took a selfie, and continued on our way.  Our route was to take us up to a place called Lake Arnold.  After a grueling trek uphill through boulders, roots, and mud, we arrived.  What a beautiful place!!  A small mountain lake with a gorgeous backdrop and cold water.  We rested, snacked, and took more photos before heading out again.

Lake Arnold

 Our next destination was a swamp we had read about but didn't exactly know what to expect.  When we got there we saw what appeared to be floating logs in the clearest swamp water one could ever imagine.  As I stepped out for the first time and the log moved, so did my bowels.  I wasn't expecting that!!  We crossed the logs while laughing, joking, and simply enjoying life.  "What a great hike so far!!" I thought, "what's next!?!"

Crossing the floating logs

MISERY, absolute misery is what was next.  Before we go further, let me tell you about the Adirondack Mountains.  They suck!  They suck the life out of you, they suck your energy, your stamina, your sanity, and then they suck you in for more.  The routes and terrain is hard at best, miserable is a more accurate description.  They beat you up, and kick you while you're down, and then beckon you to come back for more, which you do.

Back to our journey; about 24 miles later of our 17 total mile hike we came to a place called Lake Tear of the Cloud.  This is the highest point of what eventually becomes the Hudson river, I know the Hudson from my trips to the city so this was an interesting place for me.  We settled down for a break and a lunch of our new found favorite meal of Ramen noodles with tuna fish (don't knock it 'til you've tried it).  After lunch we geared up and headed up the heard path that leads to our first summit.  Along the way we encountered a rock with about a 15 foot drop down, this ain't no trail!!  We scrambled down and continued up the mountain.  Summit!!  We made it, little did I know, this would become 1 of 46.  More selfies and photos and back down the mountain.  Off to our next destination.

At the top of Gray Mountain; 1 of 46

Four Corners is an intersection on the south side of Mount Marcy in between her and Skylight mountain.  We were getting tired and decided to only carry our cameras up Skylight.  We hid our packs and headed up.  And up.  And up.  Rocks, boulders, roots, elves, you name, we climbed over it, until we finally saw the sign informing us we were in the Alpine zone.  Alpine zone!?!?!  Did we miss a turn and end up in Alaska?  Nope!  "Welcome to upstate New York southern boy" is what it should have read.  The summit of Skylight was amazing; 2 of 46.  The clouds were moving in so the views weren't that great but the exposed rock and alpine vegetation was beautiful it self.  More pictures, more selfies, Dan got in his underwear to strike a yoga pose, and all was well in the world.  Time to descend.

Skylight Mountain; 2 of 46

Pain, that was the story of this descent.  You see, back in May I had hurt my knee on Old Rag Mountain back home, it was feeling better, until now.  I struggled down the mountain and called for a break.  I was 8 miles from the car, and in serious pain.  I was running low on food, and would not force these guys to carry me out.  You see, that's another thing about the Adirondacks, you can't give up out here.  You have to pursue, you have to dig deep, you have to overcome.  I took some Advil, stretched it out, and grabbed my pack.  We still had a mountain to climb, literally and metaphorically.  Begin the trek up Mount Marcy.  Our original reasoning in selecting this particular hike.  Up and up, back in to Alpine zone.  Back above tree line, "we can see the top!!  Oh wait, that's not it!".  Up and up some more.  We struggled up the mountain, it was tough, it was steep, we were tired.

Mount Marcy summit; 3 of 46

We finally reached the top; 3 of 46.  Nothing but clouds, wind, and cold.  I'm from Virginia, cold and July don't go in the same sentence, not the case up here.  Cold and July go hand in hand.  More selfies, a huge celebration, a group hug, and while standing on the top of New York state, I asked myself, "how the hell did I get here?".  22 months prior I tried to get sober, again.  It had been a life long struggle, and finally at wits end, I decided to do whatever it took to get and stay sober.  Part of that included doing things I had never done before.  I never hiked, or climbed, or met new people.  That's not me, or so I thought.  22 months prior I wanted to die, until I woke up one morning and wanted to live.  I had climbed my own personal Mount Marcy prior to even hearing of Mount Marcy, but here I was on top of both of them, even if just for a moment.  This is living, this is it, what's next!?!

We descended Mount Marcy, 7 miles to go to get back to the car.  Wait, 7 miles!?!?  We had already been out here for close to 10 hours, and we still have 7 miles to go!?!  The descent was long, tiring, I was out of food, and my legs were melted Jello.  Nothing left, but again, I had to make it out.  We finally got back to the car around 9 pm.  It was a long, exhausting, and rewarding day.  We made it back to camp with the experience of a lifetime, countless stories, pictures, and though I didn't know it then, a new goal in life.  Become a 46er.

So this is where the Adirondacks and I first meet.  Our love affair has began.  I currently sit at 17 of 46 in September 2018 with a finish goal of January 2020.  I will write about my other 7 trips to upstate New York, as well as document my future ones too.

It's been a hell of a ride so far, so be sure to subscribe and follow along on this crazy journey life has taken me on.

46 Climbs - Climbing To Conquer Suicide

My baby boy and love of my life.  My son Nicholas

I started out climbing as a way to get out of the house and start to view the world around me.  In the 32 years prior I had never really taken the time to appreciate the world for what it was.  I had no clue where it would take me, or what I would learn, but I did know I was sick and tired of sitting around saying "there's nothing to do".

My climbing career thus far has been an interesting one.  In the first 6 months I sustained 2 knee injuries, multiple bear and snake encounters, traveled damn near across the country, and yet the worst thing I faced was looking back at me in the mirror.  I have always been a quitter.  Plain and simple.  I'm a spoiled little brat.  I had to have people around, I couldn't do anything too hard, and my mind was always telling me I wasn't good enough.

You can't quit in the backcountry.  Well, you can, but I have harmed enough people in my life, I wouldn't do that in my new found venture.  So when I was 8 miles out in the woods, I had to walk 8 miles back.  Commitment; success number one.  Though the woods gave me a sense of oneness with my Creator, I still had that inner battle and would just 4 months in to my climbing career be contemplating suicide yet again, for the umpteenth time over the course of 22 years.  I finally broke down and went and saw my doctor.  He prescribed me with an anti-depressant and told me to keep active.

At the time I was jobless, I knew without a miracle I was to lose my house.  I had already blown up one vehicle and my second one was on it's last leg.  I took the meds and headed back in to the woods.  3 weeks later, after bagging Mount Mitchell in North Carolina, the highest point east of the Mississippi, I promptly blew out my knee on the descent.  Sidelined, I can't even catch a break in life.  Yet I continue with the meds, and tried to stay as active as possible.  A few weeks later it occurred to me that I was sad.  I sudden sense of relief came over me.  I was sad.  I was sad!!!  I had never felt sad before, just depressed.  I was the happiest sad person to grace this planet.

For the first time in my life I was down about something, but knew it would get better, and even more so, I didn't think about eating a bullet sandwich.  I celebrated by continuing on the meds and began rehabilitating my knee.  It finally healed and my mind began healing as well.

Nicholas' first 46er

Enter 46 Climbs.  46 Climbs is a national event where people pledge to climb certain mountains to raise money for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.  Now here is something I can get behind, or in front of.  I immediately signed up and went to work trying to raise funds.  I figured I'd kick it off myself and donate $25 to my fund.  I made Facebook post after Facebook post, and slowly the dollars started coming in.  Mostly family and my closest friends, but they came in.  I found a greater purpose than myself.  I know how it feels to be doing everything and still be hopeless, I also know how it feels when they finally goes away.  I want others to feel that too.  And here is my chance.

Last Friday we set out for the Adirondacks for my climb.  I was $116 shy of my goal of $500 but that didn't matter, I was heading to the place I love, the mountains.  My climbing partner and son in tow.  What more could I ask for?  As we headed up the road I got an email saying I had another donation.  I checked and it was the final $116 needed to hit my goal.  I was elated.  I had never done anything like this before, and here it was being a total success.  In to the woods we go!!

My son and I celebrating

We climbed our hearts out and bagged 2 of the 3 peaks I was hoping for.  Due to circumstances we had to leave the 3rd, another thing I've learned, it's ok to fail.  But did we fail?  We made the effort, I raised the money, my entire climb was devoted to a stranger, someone I may never meet, but someone I could help by living.  And living I did, and continue to do.  I came home with a new attitude toward climbing.  Remembering what it has done for me.  Where it has taken me.  Who I have met, and who I have not.  The mountains are big, the challenge is hard, sometimes you fail, sometimes you succeed, sounds a lot like life.

I will continue to climb, and I will continue to take part in 46 Climbs.  I will continue to pursue foundations and causes to help.  These mountains have saved my life, why can't they save someone else's?

My donation page for my 46 Climbs event page is still up.  You can read more of my personal story there and some of the other struggles I have faced in life.  You may also still donate.  Every dollar helps.  Thanks and God bless!!