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Behind the Scenes: The Moth Radio Hour

Dec 30, 202554 min
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Summary

This episode delves into the unsung heroes and behind-the-scenes moments of life, featuring compelling personal narratives. Hear from a salad chef who steps up during a kitchen emergency, a teacher whose student inspires him to pursue his own dreams, and an immigrant bartender navigating prejudice with grace. The hour also includes a harrowing account of a family's avalanche survival and a look into the passionate crew that brings The Moth stories to life.

Episode description

If you've been moved by a story this year, text 'GIVE25' to 78679 to make a donation to The Moth today.

In this hour, stories by and about the people who work behind the scenes. A bartender, an almost-cook, and a teacher. This episode is hosted by Moth director Jodi Powell. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by The Moth and Jay Allison of Atlantic Public Media.

Storytellers:

Gretchen Van Esstelyn steps up during a kitchen catastrophe. 

James Gordon's student asks him a difficult question. 

Bartender Anastasia Maximenko has an uncomfortable conversation with a customer. 

Nahla Summers's partner is determined to give her the best birthday ever. 

Jeremy Gaitan and his family are caught in a natural disaster. 

Podcast # 956

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Transcript

Introduction: Behind-the-Scenes Stories

This is the Moth Radio Hour. I'm your host, Jodi Powell. In this hour, we'll take you one step beyond the sign that reads employees only. We're bringing you tales from the back of house. We'll get the scoop behind those swinging doors and hear the stories that never ever make it to your table. I love stories that unlock a room you have never been in. And our first one...

Gretchen's Kitchen Crisis and Triumph

comes from Gretchen Van Esselstyn. This was told in New York City, where WNYC is a media partner of the month. Here's Gretchen. So I'm feeling good that afternoon. When I'm making the green apple vinaigrette, I'm adding the ice cubes to the blender so that the parsley stays nice and green. And I'm trickling in just like the right amount of rice vinegar. And it feels like it's going to be a good night.

The chef whose entire purpose in life is to make me cry is gonna be out of the kitchen tonight, and it's gonna be just me and the two badass line cooks working the hotline. So the hotline is where the stoves are. And I'm not allowed over there except to replenish the oil bottles and the chopped herbs for the cooks, the real cooks. And someday I'll be good and I'll be able to get to the hotline, but...

But not yet. But it's okay. Because what I have is the salad station. I do garde manger, which means guardian of the food. But really it's just opening oysters and making salads. it's it's cool it's like salads and in fine dining are they're they're a beautiful thing there's the stacking and the fluffing and the components and i'm into it so

Service starts, you know, pretty good Wednesday night. It's going well. I'm in my salad space. And then I hear some cursing, like a lot of cursing. And I turn and I look and it's like... Did you ever see like a really nice seared duck breast? And it's got like that nice crispy fat on the top and then a really beautiful rare red center. So it... It turns out that's a lot like what the inside of your hand looks like. Except there's a lot more blood. So Jose, one of the line cooks, has a knife.

coming out of his hand, and just as I'm about to say, don't pull it out, he pulls it out. And there's a lot of blood. So I turned my head back to the... for just a second because I can hear the ticket printer starting to chatter and we're getting a lot of orders coming in. And as I have my head turned, I hear another sound from the hotline and it's a thud. So Steve, the other line cook, has had the classic vasovagal response. He has hit the floor. He has passed out cold by the hotline.

So Jose has taken like a food smeared side towel and he's wrapping it around his hand and trying to turn over a steak with the other hand. And then a waiter pokes his head in and sees what's going on and says, I'll call a cab. grateful. I don't know what a cab is going to do in this situation, but I'm just happy that there's someone else in the room with me who's not passed out or bleeding. But then he's gone and he's taken Jose with him and I'm alone.

And things are burning. Like, proteins are burning. I'm not allowed to touch the stove. But what choice do I have? So I step over Steve's body and over to the hotline. And I start just turning and plating. trying to remember which garnishes and sides go on which plate, but I'm doing it. And servers come in and they try to help, but they're slammed too. It's like suddenly the busiest Wednesday night we've ever had. But I'm doing it. I'm cooking.

Steak and fish and chops and I'm putting them on the plate and I'm doing it. An order comes in. And it's table 17, endive salad, sauce on the side. And I know this order. So we don't do sauce on the side. This is fine dining. We don't do that. But we do it for this table. Wednesday night regular. Big tipper. May or may not have been one of TV's golden girls. And making her salad is like my favorite part of this job. So I do something strange. I just start turning off the burners.

And you don't turn off the burners during service. You're always going to need them again. But I do. I just turn them all off. And after the last one, I step back over Steve into the Grand Mache. And I make the salad. And I just, I sliced those crisp half moons of endive and I picked the most beautiful little baby bib lettuce leaves and crumble the Stilton, julienne some green apple and...

Fill up that little sauce on the side ramekin with that tart green apple vinaigrette. And I send it out. And then I look back to the hotline. And Celso, the dishwasher, has turned all the burners back on and is working the hotline a hundred times better than I could ever do in my entire life. So I just turned back to my station and I have a lot of oysters to open.

I'm still not any good at it, and I'm just shucking oysters, just, like, stabbing myself in that part of my hand every fourth time by mistake, just kind of relishing that pain and just being like, I didn't really make it to the hotline. Not really. You know, I don't get to be the hero that night. I'm just going to get on the train like every other night, reeking of friar grease, and just cry all my way home to Brooklyn, just like every other night.

But then I see the dishes come back from table 17. And I sent out a lot of badly cooked steaks that night. But I also sent out something so beautiful. and delicious and nourishing that she licked the plate clean. That was Gretchen van Esselstyn. Gretchen believes she is the only writer with a peculiar trifecta of a James Beard Award nomination for culinary journalism, a first place trophy in the National Pork Board Recipe Contest,

and a short story featured in Best American Erotica. She is working on a novel about intergenerational friendship with benefits in the time of climate change. We followed up with Gretchen to get the scoop on who that VIP guest was. Gretchen told us it was none other than Golden Girl, Ru McClanahan, who always enjoyed a good endive salad and was a great tipper. Gretchen also shared one of her family recipes with us. Visit themoth.org to try it out.

James Gordon: A Teacher's Mutual Growth

Our next story was told by James Gordon at the Chicago Grand Slam, where WBEZ is our media partner. Here's James at the Vic Theatre. I'm pretty sure Janine Teagues from Abbott Elementary is my spirit animal. We both have that overwhelming enthusiasm and optimism that everything is gonna be all right. And I took this into my second year of teaching seventh grade language arts at Rosa Parks Middle School. One, because I had a job.

And two, I had a whole year of teaching experience under my belt. You couldn't tell me shit. I walked into the class. Brand new suit, brand new shirt, brand new tie, brand new shoes like I have on now. I say, good morning class, I'm Mr. Gordon. I will start taking attendance and a hand goes up. Young man in the second row. I said, yes, sir. He said, before you call attendance, my name is Hawkins. And I immediately looked down the list. He says, no, no, Mr. Gordon. It's Hawkins.

Just my last name. And I'm like, oh. He said, well, my father's in the army. And he said, the man gets respect from being called by his last name. And I would appreciate if you call me by my last name. And I said, oh. Okay, Mr. Hawkins, sure. He said, no. Mr. Hawkins is my granddad. Sergeant Hawkins is my dad. I'm just Hawkins. Do you got it? And immediately, I said, oh, shit.

And then he said, without missing a beat, and I meant no disrespect, sir. And I said, oh my goodness. I've never seen such politeness in a seventh grader. This is going to be great. And this is who Hawkins was. above average in all subjects, extremely talented chess player, very good debater, played basketball, had to go through that before we got to the stereotype.

Okay. And he was just a great guy in class. Several months down the line, we go to a trip called The Other Cinderella. It plays at the Black Ensemble Theater. And it's to Cinderella what the Wiz is to the Wizard of Oz. High-octane, hip-hop-infused dance, singing, and the students loved it, unlike the trip I planned last year to the Nutcracker. flopped like when the Bears play the Packers flopped. And I love my Bears, but shit, you know. So anyway, this is when Hawkins says,

Mr. Gordon, Mr. Gordon, I'm going to be an actor. You're going to see me on that stage. And I said, I believe it. He says, I believe it too. And I believed him. One day we were doing a journal assignment about what she wanted to be, and of course he stated in his journal that he wanted to be an actor. Others said, lawyer, doctors, and such. And he raised his hand. He said, Mr. Gordon. I said, yes, Hawkins. He said, what did you want to be?

I said, I wanted to be a teacher. And we all chuckled at that. He says, well, did you want to be something else? Did you want to be something other than a teacher? And I said, yeah, I wanted to be an actor like you. He said, really? I said, yes. He says, well, why aren't you? Why aren't you an actor, Mr. Gordon? I said, well, teaching was a better option. He said, it was?

And I said it was. And the bell rang for class. And that cliche of being saved by the bell was appropriate at that moment. Because I had lied to him. I didn't think I could be an actor. I didn't think they had people on TV that looked like me. Dark skin like me, not long flowing hair, not the sick pack abs, nothing. I was from the south side of Chicago. I couldn't be an actor. So I... was a teacher it was i guess what i was supposed to do hawkins nodded me i nodded back and

The rest of the year went, but I couldn't stop thinking about the question he had asked me about being an actor. Why hadn't I done it? I had been the teacher that had always encouraged students, you can do whatever. However, put your energy, put your effort, put your hard work into it, and you can do it, but... I hadn't done that. I was living daily hypocrisy because I didn't do that.

The seventh grade year came and went, and Hawkins went on to the eighth grade. He would get into the drama club, and I would keep in touch with him, keep tabs on him. He went to Thornton High School next. Started in plays, and then he went to Illinois State University, and in his first year, he got a role in The Express, the Ed Davis story, and then we lost touch. And I was happy for him, because he had pursued his dreams, but I hadn't.

A friend of mine, as I started doing poetry, a friend of mine reached out and said, hey man, you want to be in a movie? I mean, I got this movie called Animals, the movie. And he says, I said, dude, I'm not an actor. He says, you'll be playing a teacher. I said, oh, I can do that. Yeah. And so I did it. He said, well, you should do some background work. And I started doing background work, extra work. And I wound up on a show called Chicago PD. And I saw one of the actors, about 6'3".

Black guy, buff, handsome. And I said, no way. And I said, and they said, tell extras don't speak to the actors. And I'm a rule breaker. So I said, Hawkins! And he came over, he says, Mr. Gordon, what are you doing here? I said, I'm acting. I'm doing background work. He says, no shit. I said, no shit. And he hugged. He said, well, I got to go to set. I said, well, OK, great. I said, I'm proud of you, Hawkins. He said, I'm proud of you, too.

And as alluded to in my introduction, I'm an actor now. You've probably seen me somewhere and didn't know it was me, but I'm doing it. As teachers. We have this credo about reaching one student. We want to reach as many as we can, but we want to reach one student. And I'd like to say I've done that in all my years of teaching. But the hook is when the student... can reach back and touch and influence you like Hawkins did me. Thank you.

That was James Gordon. James is an international award-winning author and poet, champion storyteller, and acclaimed actor. He can be seen in episodes of The Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, the G, background extras, and the film, The Ways. In a moment, we go behind the bar during happy hour and we hear about a very unexpected birthday gift. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by...

Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole Massachusetts we all take good care of the things that matter our homes our pets our cars are you doing the same for your brain Acting early to protect brain health may help reduce the risk of dementia from conditions like Alzheimer's disease. Studies have found that up to 45% of dementia cases may be prevented or delayed by managing risk factors you can change. This is the Moth Radio Hour. I'm Jodi Palo.

In this hour, stories from behind the scenes. Our next storyteller takes us behind the bar. Anastasia Maximenko told this at a story slam at the Ecuadorian American Cultural Center in Astoria, Queens. where WNYC is a media partner of the month. Here's Anastasia.

Anastasia: Bartending, Identity, and Empathy

When I got to the United States, I started working as a bartender to pay my bills. And as a bartender, you chitchat a lot with the customers and my accent, even though I think I don't have any. It sparks a lot of conversation. People would say, like, oh, where are you from? How did you get here? When did you get here? And so on. So as anyone here, like, I love talking about myself. So therefore, I mean, in the mouth. And this is like 2016 and I work in Turkish restaurant on 42nd and Madison.

And I get to work about like four to prepare my bar. And then we get actual crowd about like 5.30ish, 6ish because it's like me town. So office people have their really hard day in the office job. come to us to have a happy hour cocktails. And but that day I come to work and I see there's at four o'clock there is a couple at the bar. So I know right away it's probably like tourists from other states. And as I learned later on, yes, this middle-aged white couple is actually from Arkansas.

so I go behind the bar and I'm super nice because I'm like really nice and I And I just enjoy serving people. So I go, hello, how are you? Would you like to see our happy hour menu? Would you like to see our menu? And this guy, he's like with the grayish hair. in like bright yellow polo shirt. I would call him man without smile. He goes right away. I need Jack Daniels. I cannot do Arkansas accent, sorry.

So he goes, Jack Daniels on the rocks and Chardonnay for my wife. And I'm like, oh, excuse me, we don't have Chardonnay, but I have really nice Turkish wine, which is very similar. Okay, get it. And I'm like, okay, man knows what he wants. And, you know, I give the menu and I give them a few minutes to decide what to order. Then I come back, I take their order, and man again, he orders everything for him or for his wife.

And his wife is like really voluminous, like ginger hair and matching like red polo shirt. And she's smiling. And I'm like, wow, interesting couple. Men without smile and smiling wife. And they order... For him, he ordered pasta. The only pasta on our menu were Turkish restaurant, for Christ's sake. And for her, he ordered salad with chicken. And conversation begins. He goes, you know, I hear your accent, what it is. And I say, it's Russian. And, like, I feel the tension.

Especially when behind me there's TV that rolling this news about Russian hackers and recent election of Trump. And he goes, hmm. So where in Russia are you coming from? And he goes, oh, I'm really not from Russia. I'm from Kazakhstan, but we speak Russian there. And he's like, hmm, that's where the Pakistan is. And I'm thinking to myself, close enough. Pakistan, but I say, yeah, yeah, yeah, it's somewhere. Somewhere they're close. And his wife...

She leans towards him, like they're asking questions together, but she doesn't say anything. She's just smiling. And she goes, so when did you come here? And I go, about six years ago, he's like, so do you like it here? And I go, you know, I'm living here and it's my home, so obviously I like it. And he goes. Home. And at that moment, I feel enchanted. I'm like, I speak even in more nicer tone, and I'm like...

Yeah, I live here six years, but actually I already went to college and I finished Hunter College with the major sociology, with others. And also, this job... It's just to pay my bills. And I already work part-time as an admission counselor, and I really want to, in the future, become full-time, because I want to help students and guide them. And at the moment, I'm just thinking, I'm asking myself, why are you like this? And I'm thinking, is it because the notion of immigrants?

is like altered so much during that election and after that election. Or I'm thinking that maybe like I feel in deja vu because I went through this. before. And yes, in immigration office, I went through the same interrogation with the immigration officer to whom I had to prove that I deserve. to be here. And as an immigrant, there's many moments where you have to prove that you deserve to stay in this country.

I'm still thinking to myself, but at the moment, wife stretched her arm and touched me and said, we're glad you're here. Thank you. That was Anastasia Maximenko. We are very saddened to share that Anastasia passed away in 2024. We first met her through a moth community workshop with new women New Yorkers. She was born and raised in Kazakhstan.

And Anastasia immigrated to the United States at the age of 20 and went on to build a career in counseling immigrant students. She is remembered for her heartfelt stories and her generous spirit towards everyone she met.

Nala Summers: Love's Enduring Birthday Gift

Our next story comes from Nala Summers. Nala told this at her London Story Slam. Here she is, live at the Moth. Thank you so much. Christmas birthdays must really suck. But I'm going to trump that with Easter birthdays. Because there is nothing worse than coming down the stairs and receiving a chocolate Easter egg for your birthday. It's depressing. It was my 32nd birthday where everything changed. And Paul, my partner, was determined to make it the best birthday ever.

So he asked the question a month before that every good partner asks, what do you want for your birthday? And every... partner who doesn't want to appear greedy says no nothing I don't want anything and there's always a suck through the teeth like Am I going to get into real trouble here if I actually get her nothing at all? So he continued to ask me, what would you like for your birthday? And I continued to say, nothing. A week before my birthday we had a week planned off.

And so I was traveling into work on the Friday and I had the happy holiday feeling. Nothing and no one was going to put me in a bad mood. On the way, I dropped my partner to a charity cycle ride. And a couple of hours later, he called me and said, hey, I don't feel very well. And I said, oh, I'll come and pick you up because I'm in that happy holiday mode. And he said, oh, no, actually, I think I'm going to call an ambulance because I feel like I'm having a heart attack. Very cool and calm.

And, of course, I'm thinking in my mind, well, he's just overexerted himself. And I call back after about ten minutes, and he doesn't answer the phone. A lady... answers the phone and asks me to make my way to the hospital. I get in the car and I think... Well, this is all going to be okay. Because everything's okay. It's near my birthday. We've got a week off. Everything's good. This is not the story.

When I get to the hospital, they sit me down and they tell me that his life has expired. There's lots of things that I don't remember about that day. But they put me in a room and they laid me down on a sofa. And I looked out of the kind of the dappled 70s NHS curtains. And all I could feel was love. Like somebody was pouring it over me. And eventually a nurse came in and... asked me how I was getting on and I started to share with her all about Paul. How extremely funny he was.

This kind of dry humour and how he could find the humour in even the worst moments of life. He loved me so... unconditionally. I went into the darkest place, as people will understand in the room. Grief. sends us on a journey. A week later, my birthday came around and I had barely left the house. And what happened was The birthday cards got mixed with the condolence cards. And my birthday came and I just kept thinking, I just want a...

birthday card from him to come through the front door. The day continued and it got to about eight o'clock in the evening-ish and my friend called me. And she said to me, I didn't want to tell you this, but I've got to. Paul got you a present. He bought us a spa day. And when he emailed me the details, he said, don't let on that I've got her anything, because I want her to believe that she got sweet FA just as she asked.

There is some important lessons for us all in this last few years but one that I learn every year on my birthday. is that unconditional love is truly the greatest gift that we can give and receive. Thank you. Nala Summers is on a mission to transform how we connect, whether it is in the workplace or out in the world. She calls herself an accidental researcher of kindness. and uses her story in nothing less than her quest to change the world, one act of kindness at a time.

In a moment, a seemingly perfect snowy morning in Jackson Hole. That's when the Moth Radio Hour continues. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. Hi, Moth listeners. I'm Caledonia Cairns, Vice President of Development. As an independent nonprofit organization, The Moth relies on support from listeners like you to keep our stories alive. In order to share even more stories fostering empathy and connection,

we hope you will consider making a donation directly to the moth. Every dollar will support the production of the moth's signature live events, podcast, and radio hour. as well as community engagement and education programs. We're proud to bring you inspiring stories from all over the globe. Please visit themoth.org or text GIVE25 to 78679. If you've been moved by a story you've heard this year, and thank you for being a part of the moth. This is the Moth Radio Hour. I'm Jodi Powell.

Our final story was told by Jeremy Gaten at the main stage in Alaska, where we partnered with the Anchorage Concert Association. Here's Jeremy.

Jeremy Gaten: Avalanche Horror in Jackson

It was December 26, 1996. A fresh blanket of snow had fallen in Jackson Hole. It felt like one of the best late Christmas presents you could ask for. My family loved days like these. My dad could get out and make some extra money, and my mom and sister and I could get out and have some fun. My dad had a snow plowing business back then, so he was up before dawn out clearing people's driveways. He used to take me out with him occasionally on his rounds and let me operate the snow plow, which...

For a young kid, couldn't have been more exciting operating heavy machinery. I used to love watching the snow pile up, and I was always amazed at how big some of those piles could get. He was also a skilled hunter. He'd go out every year for elk, deer, antelope, moose, and anything else he could. And I just loved being out in the backcountry with him, surrounded by nothing but mountains and wilderness.

really gave me a sense of being at home. My mom, who's a pillar of strength and ambition, has been a realtor in Jackson for over 45 years. She started her career from scratch and went on to own her own brokerage, and she even won the Realtor of the Year Award. Since she had a somewhat flexible schedule, she was able to take my sister and I out on countless outdoor adventures.

One of her gifts to us was skiing, and if you've ever taken children out skiing, you know that's a testament to her will and love for the mountains. My sister is about four years older than me, so... As kids, she was always much better at skiing and pretty much everything else. It can make a young guy pretty jealous not being able to keep up with Big Sister, but there was something I could be proud of back then.

I was getting to the front seat of the car first so I could ride shotgun. That December 26th was one of those proud moments for me. So as we woke up to all the fresh snow, it was... pretty natural we'd be going skiing that day. My mom made us a beautiful breakfast of Lucky Charms, always my favorite. And after that, we began the long process of suiting up for skiing.

As we were doing that, my mom went out to the garage and put our skis on top of the silver Ford Taurus sedan. When she was done, she called for us to head to the car, and the race was on. I ran as fast as I could to get into the front seat, jumped in, and smiled smugly at my sister through the windows. After some heated conversation about how unfair this was, we backed out of our freshly plowed driveway. Our house was in Rafter J. It's a little neighborhood a few miles south of Jackson.

The highway to get there was two lanes at the time and basically cut into the side of a mountain. As we start getting up to speed on the highway, I hear my mom say something she just never says. Oh shit. My heart began to race. I didn't know what was going on. I knew it must be pretty serious for her to talk like that in front of her children. I feel the car accelerate. Then I look up to the mountain on my right.

There's this huge wall of snow barreling down the mountain towards us. At that point, everything switched into slow motion, and I looked back to the highway thinking, we'll just keep driving. The snow will miss us and we'll be skiing in no time. I guess my mom thought the same thing, which is why she floored it when she saw the snow. And then wham! The snow hits the car. Everything goes completely dark. It engulfed the car, blocked out all the light, and then silence.

I felt this overwhelming sense of peace and calm, even though the car was rolling over and over down the side of the mountain. At some point we stopped. I was... so confused. My mom kept asking over and over if we are okay, but I just didn't even know how to answer that question. I'm like looking down. Why is my seat jammed all the way forward? Why is my seatbelt so tight? It hurts. All the windows were shattered. The car had landed upright with only the lower half buried.

Then I looked to the back seat where my sister was sitting. She's there, she's conscious, but she is covered in blood. The whole backseat of the car, the roof, it's just all bloody. At that point, I just don't know what to do or think, so I just sit there. Then my mom's car phone rings. It was one of those old Motorola's with the big bass and the curly cord to the handset. She reaches down, picks it up, brings it up to her ear, and she says,

Hello, this is Penny. I guess the extreme stress of the situation kind of defaulted her into business mode. Turns out it was another realtor looking to show a house that day. She quickly snapped back to reality, realizing we really need help, so she tells the guy to call her husband, call 911. Tell them we've been in an avalanche. Finally, it kind of clicked into place for me. I'd heard about them. I'd seen them on TV, but never could have imagined.

being in one, especially in a car. She hangs up the phone and we wait. Time seems to have warped in those moments because it felt like almost instantly there were paramedics outside the car helping us crawl out through the broken windows. My mom and I were fine, so... We got out and we just stand there as they're carefully trying to extract my bloody sister from the wreckage.

Once they finally get her out, they strap her to a red trauma board, secure her head between two foam pieces and they have to carry her up the side of the mountain as we hike up through the deep snow behind them. Get up to the highway, they put her on a gurney, roll her into the ambulance. My mom and I get in, sit alongside her. Any memories of jealousy or fights we had just faded away. All I could...

feel was fear and worry for my sister. Paramedics were shining their little flashlights into her eyes, taking her vitals, getting blood all over them as they did. They kept asking. Where does it hurt? Where are you bleeding from? But she just didn't have an answer. Again, time warps and we're at the hospital. As the ambulance doors opened, I see my dad standing there. I run out and give him a big hug, and he somehow seemed calm, and that helped calm me down just a little bit to get my bearings.

I guess when he heard of the accident, he raced to the scene. He said he was taking the back roads at nearly 100 miles per hour, and he was able to follow the ambulance to the hospital. Then we all follow my sister into the ER. Doctors quickly began work. They were frantically cutting through her ski clothes, trying to figure out where all this blood is coming from. Again, they're asking, where does it hurt?

Where does it hurt? Where are you bleeding from? But she just doesn't have an answer. I'd never experienced anything like this, anything near death.

Deer Blood Mystery and Family Resilience

I thought it might be my sister's time. I got as close as I could. And all I could say was, I love you, Nicole. I really thought that was going to be the last thing I ever say to her. So as the doctors continue working, cutting through layer after layer, out of the corner of my eye, I see my dad. reach down and pick up her bloody coat from the floor. He picks it up and stares at it for a minute. Then he brings it up to his face and he smells it.

You guys, he said, this is deer blood. The doctors stop and look. look over at them, look back and forth at each other like, what is this guy talking about? They continued checking and cutting through the final layers, but my sister was completely fine. I guess my dad's knowledge of hunting and the unique smell every animal possesses mattered just a little more in that moment than the doctor's years of medical school. Huge weight had been lifted off me and I could...

finally breathe again. So with all the snow we had received the prior evening, herds of deer were moving around in the mountains trying to find some fresh sources of food. The timing for that particular herd moving across the mountains and us going skiing couldn't have been worse. They triggered the avalanche near the top and we were driving directly below.

Among all the snow that engulfed the car, there were several deer. One of these deer came into contact with the car, got sliced up by the skis on top, and the broken glass of the windows. and entered the back seat through one of the windows. The deer tumbled around with my sister until ultimately being flung out before the car settled.

My sister has no recollection of a deer being in the car with her. Or how she even stayed in the car with no seatbelt on. I know life can change in the blink of an eye, but... I still feel this incredible magnetism to the mountains and the place I call home. I've always told this story is just a random stroke of bad luck, entwined with unbelievable good luck, but...

Now it just seems like it's part of a bigger picture, a much longer story of my family constantly being knocked down, somehow getting back up and dusting off and moving forward. I mean, my... My parents had dinner reservations that evening at one of the nicer restaurants in Jackson, Snake River Grill. They didn't miss it. It's pretty clear to me now that surviving that avalanche and still getting out and enjoying everything the mountains have to offer, it's just part of who we are.

A tough family. I've always known that to be true for my parents, but it's finally sinking in for myself. I think that avalanche and the wild, rugged place I grew up in have... help form this underlying sense of resilience that have helped me weather just about any storm. I currently live in Rafter J again, this time with my wonderful wife Jane. Wish she could have made it tonight, but...

Alaska's pretty far. But I drive by that avalanche path every single day. And each time, no matter what the season, I'm transported back to that moment. That huge wall of snow cascading down towards us. I know there's no way to control the forces of nature, but I'm drawn to the mountains and I have immense love and respect for them. for the resilience and strength they have given me and my family. Thank you.

Jeremy Gaten was born and raised in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. He loves skiing, mountain biking, and hiking. So a little behind the scenes with this story. I met Jeremy when he was on our crew as our photographer, and one year I was told that he has a story of being in an avalanche, and he pitched it right there to me as he was taking photos at our soundcheck.

And the following year, he closed the show with that story. So yes, sometimes a pitch for another gig on the job works. And remember, the Moth is always interested in your pitches. To see some photos of Jeremy Gaten enjoying the outdoors of Jackson Hole and some images that he has taken, visit themoth.org.

The Moth Crew Shares Their Passion

and to bring the behind-the-scenes theme of this hour full circle. I thought that it might be great for you to meet some of the folks behind the scenes at some of the events at The Moth. Here are a few folks that work tirelessly capturing elements of the show or working behind a screen to make sure the moth flies smoothly.

My name is Katie and I've worked at The Moth for almost two years now. I've worked as a volunteer, a production intern, and most recently a production coordinator. I really enjoy... When we first arrive to our venues, before we start setting up for the show, before any of the audience comes in and all of our crew and our hosts are coming and slowly trickling in.

There's just this moment where everyone is catching up and saying hi and like giving hugs and everyone's excited to see each other and it just feels so wonderful. My name is Norika Okabe. I'm an audio recording engineer, and I've been working with the moth since 2008. Mostly I'm listening to the quality and other technical details.

but I can't help get sucked into the story. I cry with them. I laugh with them. I hold my breath. I love seeing the audience get raptured into the story, and sometimes you can hear a pin drop in the space. I love seeing and feeling the sense of oneness, their eyes glued to the storyteller. I think the whole night is an experience to see everyone involved. and the audience looks satiated at the end of the night is awesome. And I say this all the time, but nothing beats live events.

Hi, my name is Joe Del Seno, and I've been a freelance videographer for The Moth for just over 17 years. There are a few goofy phrases or anecdotes I heard at The Moth that have kind of become ingrained in my mind. Every time I take a piece of cheese out of the fridge, I think about the answer that storyteller Jesse Klein gave to the introductory question.

what is one piece of wisdom you learned from your parents she answered my mom always told me if you have some moldy cheese cut off the mold you can still eat the cheese When I go to the shows, I look forward to the variety of stories I'll hear, getting a little tour through life in general, including the lives of others, in really random and unpredictable ways.

It's one of the aspects of the moth I think is really unique. Hey, my name is Peter Cooper, and I've been a photographer for the moth for over six years. One moment that really stands out for me was when I was photographing a main stage matinee, which is designed to introduce high school students to the moth and the art of storytelling. While I was editing these photos,

One particular photo really touched me. It was some students in the audience who were in this state of awe and wonder while they were watching The Storytellers. Let me give a shout out to my mom. Back in college, I hesitated to buy a $100 flip camera for a course, but she insisted on getting it for me. That $100 investment turned into my career. So thanks, mom.

As always, it's a pleasure and an honor to photograph with a moth, and I take it as an extreme privilege to be able to help document you wonderful storytellers.

Episode Credits and Final Thoughts

And that's it for this episode of the Moth Radio Hour. Thank you to our storytellers and all the Moth staff and crew for sharing with us and to you for listening. I hope you'll join us next time. This episode of The Moth Radio Hour was produced by me, Jay Allison, and Jody Powell, who also hosted and directed the stories in the show. Co-producer is Vicki Merrick, associate producer Emily Couch. Additional Grand Slam coaching by Jennifer Hickson.

The rest of the Moss leadership team include Sarah Haberman, Christina Norman, Sarah Austin Jeunesse, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Marina Cluche, Leanne Gully, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Sarah Jane Johnson, and Aldi Casa. Special thanks to the staff that was in this hour, Katie Glasser, Noriko Okabe, Joe Del Seno, Peter Cooper, and Lauren A. Gay for helping us out.

Moss stories are true as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers, or theme music is by The Drift. Other music in this hour from Galt McDermott, Speedometer, Ariel Besson, Duke Levine, and William Tyler. We receive funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. Special thanks to our friends at Odyssey, including executive producer Leah Reese Dennis.

For more about our podcast, for information on pitching us your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org. If you are a fighter, Modelo is your reward. So listen close. You are strong. You are fearless. You are a fighter. And every last drop of this rich golden Modelo is yours. So raise it up high because you've earned it. Modelo, the mark of a fighter. Drink responsibly. Beer imported by Crown Imports, Chicago, Illinois.

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