A letter from Gunnar Nelson

I'm a guy who has been in a rock band pretty much my whole life. As a matter of fact, my entire family has been in the entertainment business in one way or another for the past 100 years! I come from a long line of singers who have earned number one hits in four different decades. We've toured the world, playing for literally millions of people. It has been a blast! Doing what I do for a living, making music, is the only thing I've wanted to do since I was a kid. It's all I ever thought about. I pictured myself on stage, in the spotlight, rocking out to 20,000 people a night. I pictured myself on the cover of magazines, getting my videos played like crazy on MTV, and having all of the cars, houses, and fans that a famous person can have. I was completely obsessed with being the most famous person in the world, leading the coolest band on the radio. To make a long story short, I made all of this and more happen for myself by the time I was just 21 years old.

The moment that my first single went #1 on my 21st birthday should have been the happiest moment in my life -- but it wasn't. I know it sounds weird, but the honest truth of the matter is that I felt completely lost and empty inside. Why? I think it's because that was when I realized that I had been believing in an illusion since I was six years old. You see, I always thought that “GETTING” stuff (the fame, the money, the power) was going to take all of my problems away, that the people who had doubted me and my dreams would finally admit that they were wrong, that I would just flat-out feel good about myself. But when I finally reached the top of the mountain to find that I STILL felt empty inside, I was crushed. I felt so unbelievably lost. I didn't know what to do with the rest of my life. I mean, what DOES a person do when they realize that they can't buy happiness? The fame game is to self esteem what fast food is to a healthy body. I did the only thing I could have done at the time. I rode the crest of my wave and hung on for dear life, and hoped that inspiration would find me. And it did. In a very unlikely person named Erin. 

Erin Valilee was a 12 year old girl who lived in Orange County, California. She was a friend of a friend a friend of mine, someone I might never have met had it not been for my music and my level of success a the time. But Erin was a “fan,” and she reached out through her family to meet me. None of this is very remarkable had it not been for the fact that Erin was one of those rare people that we all know that never had an unkind word to say about anyone. She had eyes so blue and so huge, she looked like an anime character. She always had a smile on her face. You could hear her coming from down the hall because her laugh preceded her. Everyone in her class liked her, not because she was necessarily “the coolest” girl in school, but she was the most genuine. You just knew that she actually cared about you when you were around her. She made your life much more fun, hopeful, and just plain BETTER because she was in it. She also had cancer. 

My first meeting with Erin happened after my band and I played a sold out concert at the Universal Amphitheater. She was too sick to actually come to the concert at the time, so I went to her. Me and the entire band packed into the tour bus and drove down to the Orange County children's hospital at midnight and visited her and the other kids who were fighting the good fight. That visit that changed my life forever. 

I know how hard it is to be a kid trying to grow into the man or woman you're going to be one day. I've been there myself. I think of all the stress kids currently deal with in their every day lives -- parents, friends, grades -- all of it. Now, I want you to imagine that you've got all of that to deal with AND you've just found out that you've got a disease that only fifty years ago was a guaranteed death sentence. You didn't ask for any of it -- it was just your bad, dumb luck that at such a young age you'd been handed a situation that's going to force you to decide whether or not you want to fight and live, or give up and die. So there you are, stuck In the children's cancer ward, feeling scared and lonelier than you've ever felt. Can you imagine? How would you deal with it, really? What would you want at that moment, more than anything? 

I know, for me, more than anything, I'd just want to feel like I wasn't alone or abandoned.

That night I saw lots of boys and girls from different backgrounds. Some had lost their hair because of chemo, some looked totally fine. They all had a challenge with cancer in common. But the thing that struck me most of all was how appreciative they all were that we had given them a couple of hours of our time to stop by, say hi, and let 'em know we cared about them. From that moment on, my life was different, thanks to Erin and her friends that were there. I was able to re-define for myself what was truly important in life. I became a creature of CONNECTION instead of the vacuous creature of “significance” that I was before. All thanks to them. 

Erin and I became fast friends. I stayed in touch with her whenever I could, which was kind of tough in those days. I was in the middle of a 203 city tour on the tour bus, and cell phones weren't exactly what they are now. I'd call in to her mom every week or so to see how she was doing, and every so often I got to talk to Erin herself. Sometimes she sounded worn out, sometimes totally fine, but she always made me laugh. About a year later, I found myself playing southern California again, and I got the news that Erin was actually going come to one of my shows. I was thrilled. I even got to sing a song just for her that night, holding her hand as she smiled up at me from the front row,  in the spotlight for 15,000 people to see. That was one of the greatest moments of my life. I was happy because she was well enough to be allowed to leave the hospital to come see me play. After the show, I expressed that gratitude to Erin's mom. Her face fell, and she let me know that the doctors had let Erin leave the hospital and come to the concert because she was no longer responding to treatment and she didn't have very much longer to live. 

Erin Valilee was one beautiful, TOUGH little girl. She was given a month to live by her doctors in May, but she fought until September 20th to finally let go. The night before she passed, her mother, at her side, reminded her that the next day was my birthday. Erin smiled up at her and knowingly said, "I know Mom. That's what I've been waiting for."

Erin died on my birthday so would never forget her. 

And I never have. 

It has been 15 years, and every night on my birthday I light an extra candle for Erin, the little girl who showed me how to truly LIVE every single day of my life as if it could be my last. I will do this every year until it's my turn to go. But until that day, I've committed myself to helping as many kids who are just like Erin, all over the world, who are right here and now in the same situation she and all of her friends were in. That's where St. Jude's Hospital comes in. 

St. Jude’s is a WONDERFUL hospital in Memphis, Tennessee, that helps children from all over the world with life-threatening illnesses. They have a very simple motto: NO CHILD IS EVER TURNED AWAY FOR THEIR INABILITY TO PAY. How cool is THAT? About 90% of every dollar sent in to St. Jude’s goes to helping the kids who need help there directly. They've got an amazing thing going, and they've changed the lives of thousands of families for the better. Just check out their website to see what I mean for yourself. It's inspiring. And it has inspired me. 

Along with my partner, Nikki Moustaki, we’ve come up with an incredible way to support the wonderful people at St. Jude's and the kids they help, and it's called ROCKFESSIONS. It's fun, it's creative, it's growing exponentially, and it's WORKING. I see Rockfessions as a kind of modern patchwork quilt of postcards that expands in all directions. We'll be able to let people see the Rockfessions on the Internet, and inspire others to join in and get creative. You're getting an opportunity to get in on the ground floor of something I hope will be HUGE and worldwide. I can't wait to see what's happening a year from now!

For every great Rockfession that's submitted, we will send $1 in to St. Jude's. It's my goal to have to write VERY large checks. 

So that's it. That's why I believe in St. Jude's so much. And that's why I want to help. That's why ROCKFESSIONS was born -- and this is where YOU come in!

No matter who you are, no matter where you come from, I want to thank you in advance for your participation in this project. I think it's an amazing thing that we can all do such much good with such little effort these days.

And lastly . . . have fun every day. Appreciate the good in your life. Love as boldly as you can. And may all of YOUR dreams come true. 

I'll see you out on the road, and I look forward to seeing your own Rockfessions. 

Sincerely,

Gunnar Nelson