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Nothing matches the thrill of singing to open the Paralympics By
Matt Eichner SALT LAKE CITY -- Suddenly it was all worth it. The interminable bus rides, the dry sandwiches, the hurry-up-and-wait, seemingly hours on end in a tunnel at the north end of the stadium or in a tent outside the stadium, endless rehearsals and waiting for that darn green skater to appear at rehearsal: it was all worth it. It was all worth it when the lights came up from beneath us, the flag slowly rose up the pole, and we -- the choir from Logan, Utah -- sang the national anthem at the Opening Ceremony for the Paralympics last week. With cameras flashing all over the place and fireworks shooting skyward, it was a recipe for goose bumps the size of silver dollars. It was worth it because I sang in front of 50,000 people! Fifty thousand people! Did I mention the 50,000 people? Let me say it one more time: well, I think you get the picture. You might, if you watched it Saturday. I hear that they are going to condense the ceremony into 38 short minutes for television. For what I saw and experienced, a lifetime is too short for me. I didn't realize the anthem was only the beginning. I didn't think it could get any better than that. You see, I have always wanted to sing the national anthem at a sporting event. It was a dream, really. It was better than I expected. I expected to be nervous. I thought I would forget what to do or something. But I found out what it means by the thrill of the crowd, the rush of adrenalin knowing that all eyes are on you and loving every minute of it. I was part of the choir. I mean, there were 250 of us. It's not like I was out there, representing humanity. And yet, it was just me and all those people. I felt like I had been missing something my whole life. Now I know why some people like to get out in front of all those other people and entertain them. It is the crowd and their cheering and screaming. They loved it! The choir had to go through so much in order to sing that anthem. It was such a hassle and a pain. But it was all worth it in that moment. But, as I said, it was not over. There was more. We were to sing in the grand finale, before the concert portion of the show. So there I was, in the middle of the choir. On stage there were 250 choir members, about 30 dancers and one Donny Osmond. There's kind of a funny story to tell, as I digress yet again. For the past two nights, Donny had been with us during the rehearsals. He is simply adored by the female members of the choir. "There's Donnnnny!" they squealed. "He's soooo cute!" Of course, we were backstage and all we saw was the Jumbotron showing his face. Then, after the rehearsal, as some people are wont to do, they made fun of the girls by randomly shouting, "There's Donny!" at passing vehicles. Of course, one happened to be Donny. The girls squealed, waved and did little jumps while holding on to the arms of the girls next to them and he smiled and waved back. I looked at him driving in his SUV while waving a little and smiling. He looked almost embarrassed by the attention. It seemed ironic that a man who regularly entertained thousands of people seemed to be embarrassed as a sex symbol in Utah. Back to Thursday night. Soon it was show time for the lighting of the torch and we were onstage again in front of all those people. The torch was being lit and we were right in front of it. I had a tear in my eye as Erik Weihenmayer, the only blind man to climb Mt. Everest, walked up to the gleaming tower and handed the torch off to a woman in a wheelchair. My heart burst with pride as I witnessed the spectacle of the lighting. I had to watch the big screen at the north end of the stadium to see it, but it was amazing all the same. I could feel the electricity and the excitement crackling in the air. One side note: I felt that the Paralympics were a lot more fan-friendly. I took this from the fact that the torch was carried up through the aisle in the middle of the crowd in the corner of the stadium, and then up to the platform where the tower sat. The people loved it. I thought it was one of the best touches. The music started and the choir danced and sang its way into choral bliss. It was amazing. After, I looked at the crowd, trying to soak in every particle, every minute of that time. I saw the crowd, waving lashlights in the darkness. They were loud and fun. It was a hell of a show. I was glad to be a part of it. As I walked off stage in line with the others, I knew this was a moment to share with anyone I knew. I wanted to etch this into my consciousness. I wanted to feel this again and again, but knew it would never be quite like a magical evening, when I found out why the heavens held their rain until we got offstage, why the crowd cheered so loud and why I fought through sleepy days following a late night bus ride home from Salt Lake. It isn't every day one can share a gift with so many. My small gift was a song or two. Seeming trivial on the face of it. There were other gifts shared and received that night. The night was not to be forgotten, by me or by anyone in the audience. We saw the best people had to offer. We witnessed greatness that night. It was greatness found in humanity's desire to achieve under any circumstances. It was a time to inspire and be inspired. As the song said, "Inspire the spirit." I will not be the same man who walked off the bus the afternoon before the show, because I now know why it was worth it.
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