♪ We're barreling down the runway and I turn to him and say, "Here we go, Neil."

He looks straight ahead, unrattled, and says, "Well, grab hold if you need to."

(laughter) HAROLD COX: I discovered that the rat was actually coming in my house every night and leaving every day, kind of like he had a job.

(laughter) Everything really can change in an instant, and I have way less control than I ever thought.

WES HAZARD: Tonight's theme is "Didn't See That Coming."

ANNOUNCER: This program is made possible in part by contributions from viewers like you-- thank you.

"Didn't see that coming," honestly is something I find myself muttering to myself under my breath more than I would like to admit.

I don't think I'm the only one, though, because isn't that the way life goes?

We make plans.

We try and execute plans, and then life sort of just happens without consulting our schedule.

How rude, right?

(laughter) But no matter whether the unexpected happens to be fortuitous or catastrophic, I find that we always, always can find a worthwhile story in the aftermath.

♪ ANGELL: My name's Heather Angell.

I live in Somerville, Massachusetts, now.

I grew up in New Hampshire and I work at a little nonprofit in Dorchester, Mass., called EVkids.

And I help college kids volunteer with youth for tutoring and mentoring.

And I'm a part-time hospital chaplain.

Fantastic.

And how long have you been storytelling?

Um... like, I guess two years from, like, the beginning when I did it kind of by mistake.

And then until now.

Yeah.

Well, I'm really interested in hearing about that.

How did you start off doing storytelling by mistake?

I was at work and my friend Britney was like, "There's a story thing tonight, we should go.

And you should tell that funny thing that happened to you."

And when you're, you know, you've been doing storytelling for a little bit now, and I was curious when you're about to hit the stage, do you have any expectations about how it's going to go?

What the night will be like?

I really try not to do that.

I, uh...

I just want to, like, not trip.

And then I want to just sort of stick to the... the plan in my head, but I try not to expect anything from anybody other than that I'm just going to be authentic.

And so you're up there.

You're telling stories.

Obviously, the audience is having reactions as you're moving forward, do those affect you in any way, how the audience is responding?

I mean, if they laugh, it's, like, awesome.

It's like a big high-five, so that makes me calm down quite a bit.

It makes me feel more comfortable, and it's like they're giving me permission to keep talking.

When I was a senior in college, I met my nun.

I was in my last year at Loyola University, Chicago.

All my friends were leftist Catholics, and we spent the weekends going to anti-war protests and eating ice cream with the guys training to be Jesuits at the Jes Res, where they lived on campus.

And I was a theology major, and I decided that I wanted to get a spiritual director, which is basically somebody that you talk to about God, and prayer, and your calling in life.

And I knew that I wanted to get a woman because I was sick of the patriarchy-- and I still am, just for the record.

(audience laughs) And that's when I met Sister Chris.

She had just moved back to Chicago from teaching in a seminary in the Midwest, and she had platinum white hair, bright red lipstick, and she told me that her dad was a Greek god and her mother was an Irish lass and they had made her.

(scattered chuckles) And spiritual direction is a little bit like dating.

You have to, like, both say yes and be into it.

Thankfully, we really hit it off.

And so soon, every other Thursday, I was going to Sister Chris's apartment off-campus and drinking tea and talking about God, and she became a bit of a celebrity amongst my friends.

She would regale them with stories about how she almost ran away with this priest who was in love with her, but decided to stay in the convent, and what it was like when she was on a road trip with a bunch of other nuns and they found out that they no longer had to wear habits and can change into street clothes.

And my friends started affectionately calling her "my nun," and that's what she was.

And I kept in touch with her for many, many years.

After I finished college, after I moved back to Boston, and every time I went back to Chicago to visit friends, I would see her and we'd have these long lunches over soup and bread, looking at Lake Michigan, and having great conversations.

And then, about a year and a half ago, she decided to move to Phoenix, Arizona, where her order has an all-girl school that she was going to help out at.

And she says to me, "You know, you should come and see me in Phoenix.

We could go to the Grand Canyon."

And much as I wanted to go on an adventure with my nun, I kind of hedged a little bit, and I was like, "Yeah, you know, maybe we could do that."

And it's because I, in my 20s and 30s, struggled a lot with anxiety, and it had manifest itself around claustrophobia and then just settled on flying.

I know there's a train from Boston to Phoenix, but I think it takes weeks.

(laughter) So that didn't seem like an option.

And then, about six months after she got there, she was diagnosed with a very serious illness.

And I just had this compelling feeling like I have to see my nun.

And I thought to myself, "Maybe I could fly there."

And I didn't tell anyone because even saying that made my hands sweat, my heart race.

It's actually happening right now.

(laughter) And, finally, I told my friend Joel.

I'm like, "Hey, I think I might get on an airplane again," And he was like, "Let's ask the answer book."

So he gets this giant hardcover book out and he hands it to me like, "Ask the book!"

So I say, "Should I go to Phoenix to see my nun?"

And I opened up to a random page, and it says, "No matter what."

I bought my tickets the next day-- with flight insurance.

(laughter) And then I started doing a deep dive on Google.

"Fear of flying," pictures of inverted 747s appear.

(laughter) Balls of fire.

And then I found my salvation.

Captain Ron.

Retired commercial airline pilot turned mental health counselor.

(laughter) Helps people get over their fear of flying.

Coincidently based in Phoenix, but since I couldn't fly to Phoenix to get over my fear of flying to Phoenix, we did Skype.

And he found out my last name was Angell.

And he said, "Angels are meant to fly."

And I said, "Okay."

(laughter) And I bought his digital flight harmonizer, which was on audio of airplane sounds taking off overlaid with affirmations.

(laughter) And I would listen to it with headphones on the bus because I knew it wasn't going to like take off down, Mass Ave. (laughter) And then a few months go by and then it's my day.

And I'm at Logan Airport and I am waiting for the plane.

And you could've put tights and a cape on me, and I wouldn't have felt more like a superhero.

This was Herculean.

I get on the plane.

It's very small.

I mean, not really, but it felt small.

The guy next to me, thank God, is a talker.

He wants to tell me everything there is to know about retirement in Arizona.

(laughter) And we're barreling down the runway, and I turn to him and say, "Here we go, Neil."

Neil looks at me, he's like, "Are you afraid of flying or something?"

And I was like, "I haven't flown in nine years, Neil."

(laughter) He looks straight ahead unrattled and says, "Well, grab hold if you need to."

(laughter) So pretty soon me and Neil and a hundred other people are in the air and all my intrusive thoughts come back.

You are in a tuna can in the sky and you can't get off of it.

You're gonna have a panic attack.

They're gonna land the plane in Kansas and arrest you.

(laughter) But Neil's voice about the trailer park and the palm trees just keeps bringing me back to the present moment.

(laughter) And as the plane levels off and we reach cruising altitude, so do I. I go into the bathroom, I give myself wild thumbs up.

"You're killin' it!"

We land in Phoenix.

I get to meet Neil's wife, who had to sit a few rows up because they bought their tickets late.

And I thank her for having the kindest husband in the world.

I get a ride to the convent and my nun, always a night owl, is up waiting for me under a palm tree.

We decide that the Grand Canyon is too far.

So the next day we drive to Sedona, a couple hours away.

We wanted to check out this church called the Chapel of the Holy Cross, which is kind of set out across by the Red Rocks.

It looks like it's part of the mountain, and we had... took a golf cart to the base of it.

But then there was this tall path that we had to go up, and the golf cart didn't make that.

So the volunteer was like, "You know, we got a wheelchair over there, "and there's this really strong young Canadian guy who volunteers with us," and I was like... (clicks tongue) "I got this."

So my nun gets in the wheelchair, and I'm pushing her up.

People, they're looking at me like I'm pushing Mother Teresa or the Queen of England.

Like I'm like a saint, you know, like it's, you know, Lourdes or something.

And we get to the church, and the desert sun is just coming in so brightly through these stained glass windows.

And it just smells like wax and candles.

And I can feel the heat on my face.

And I turn to her and I'm like, "I am just so glad I'm here."

She's like, "Me too.

I'm so glad you came."

She put her hand on my arm and we just sat there in silence.

And a week later I'm on the red eye back to Boston and the guy next to me doesn't want to talk.

(laughter) But I don't need him to this time.

Because as the lights on the plane go out and the plane takes off, tears are streaming down my face.

And this time, all I can feel is gratitude.

Thank you.

(cheers and applause) For the nine years that I didn't fly, it was like the thing that I was the most ashamed of in my life.

I would actively avoid the conversation, and I didn't want people to know that I didn't fly.

But this really forced me to be really open and honest with everyone and ask for help.

And I think it's also a testament to the love I have and the part... the power of the relationship I have with my nun, because I literally think this was maybe the only circumstance that would have got me back on a plane, was to visit her when she was sick.

♪ COX: I'm Harold Cox.

I'm originally from Texas.

I've been in Boston for a long time.

I work now at Boston University as a professor and as the associate dean for public health practice at the Boston University School of Public Health.

And I'm responsible for a project called The Activist Lab, which is an opportunity for us to do real world activism in the community.

I'm interested, you know, you're a professor, you're up in front of students frequently, I would imagine, you know, instructing them.

Is storytelling, personal storytelling, taking you out of your comfort zone, or were you already very comfortable doing that sort of thing?

Oh, I am definitely not comfortable.

(chuckling) This is a very different way of talking.

Even though I, I give speeches, and I talk in front of my classes, this is a very different kind of, of talking experience.

So I'm definitely outside of my comfort zone.

But it's fun.

So our theme tonight is "Didn't See It Coming."

How does that inspire you?

Well, clearly, as I tell my story, there was something that happened that I definitely didn't expect to happen, and it had an impact on my life, and the important piece is that I figured out how to make it all work for me.

♪ I live a bold and adventurous life.

I go skydiving, I go dogsledding.

I frequently go camping two weeks at a time, just me and my canoe outside, just me, bold and adventurous.

And I've learned a whole bunch about being self-sufficient.

But just recently, I'm just wondering just how self-sufficient and how independent I really am.

It was late one Wednesday night.

I was putting the garbage out at the curb, something I do every Wednesday night so that the trash man can pick it up the next day.

And as I was rolling my barrel of trash to the curb, I looked down at my foot and there was, walking next to me, just big and bold and nonchalant, a big, fat, ugly rat.

(audience groaning) Mm.

I hate rats.

(laughter) I hate those long teeth.

I hate those disgustingly long tails.

We looked at each other at exactly the same time, and I'm pretty certain that we had the same thought go through our heads at the same time.

"What is he doing here right now?"

(laughter) And then, well, the truth is, I just screamed.

(laughter) The rat didn't pretty much like the situation either.

The rat did a 180-degree turn, and the rat was trying to get away.

I could see where the rat was going and I didn't like it.

So I said, "Go this way," with hand signals.

"Go this way."

(laughter) The rat completely ignored me, and the rat ran directly into my open car garage.

(audience groaning) Exactly.

The rat is now in my house.

I ran to my garage, I grabbed a broom, and I ran across the street the other way.

Now I did that because, all right, the truth is I was scared.

But the other thing is, I knew that the rat was not going to come out of my garage as long as I was standing in front of it.

So I needed to be away.

The rat never came out.

(laughter) So I had to go back inside.

And that night, as I got ready for bed, I close the doors and the windows and any place else that the rat might be able to come into my bedroom.

I got in bed, I pull the covers over my head because the last thing I wanted was to see a big, ugly rat staring at me and licking his lips.

(laughing) The next morning, I got up and I called the exterminator and I said, "Come now."

It was going to take the exterminator three days, and I said, "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no."

He said, "Three days."

Well, while I'm waiting for the exterminator, I discovered that the rat was actually coming in my house every night and leaving every day, kind of like he had a job.

(laughter) And kind of like it was using my house as an Airbnb.

(laughing) I also decided, well, anything this big and bold, I really ought to give him a name.

And I decide his name was Bobo.

Kind of like Mickey Mouse's gangster cousin Bobo.

Well, the exterminator came shortly, and he said, "Look, it's going to take a while "for the, for the rat to get into this "because they really don't like it "when, when, when you, when you do something in their environment."

And I thought, "This is my house."

(laughter) "This is my house."

So I said, "I got to do something right now," and I went to the store and I immediately bought 12 rat traps-- way more than I needed.

But I bought 12 of them because I was going to lay them down so that the rat would get in one of them when he went into "his" environment.

(laughter) I took one of the traps.

I put peanut butter and one in, and then I very gently raised the lever, but I didn't move my hand fast enough, and it snapped my hand the first time, and the second time, and the third time, and the fourth time.

And I decided we're not going to use these traps.

(laughter) The whole time this is going on, I can hear... (imitating rustling) There's a rat in my house.

I don't know where it is, and I am disgusted by it.

But now at some point, I actually have to go into my garage because my washing machine is in there and I absolutely need clean clothes.

So I go in the garage, and I want the rat to know that I'm there, so I stomp, stomp, stomp my feet, and I tap, tap, tapped against the wall.

And I said, "Man coming!

Man coming!"

(laughter) I absolutely did because I wanted the rat to know that I was there.

After seems like a week and a half of this horror show, I now know that I have a dead rat in my house, and I know this because I can't hear it any longer and I'm pretty certain that the rat has gotten into the poison.

But I don't want to go looking for it because I am as afraid of a dead rat as I am of a live rat.

(laughter) So I told my friend and my colleague and she said, "Look, I'll just ask my husband to come over."

And I said, "No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

"I'm, I'm a self-sufficient man.

I could do this myself."

And I thought, "Please, no, you're not.

You just let him come over right now."

(laughter) So his name is Andy.

He came to my house.

I directed to him where I thought the rat was and I immediately went as far away on the other side as I could because I didn't want Andy, or anybody else, to see what was going on.

When Andy left, and he took the rat with him, and after Andy left, I started thinking I could take a deep breath.

Because for the first time in a week and a half, I could actually breathe and be in my house again.

And I thought, "You know, it is all right if sometimes I ask somebody else for help."

So I decided at that very moment that if I ever experience one of Bobo's cousins again, it's going to be all right if I scream out loud.

And then if I ask somebody, anybody, to just come help.

(cheers and applause) ♪ SNOWDON: I'm Shane Snowdon, and I spent about half my life on the East Coast, I'm from the East Coast, about half my life in California.

I was a serial executive director of cause-oriented nonprofit groups for many years, and then I switched to being what I call an "advo-crat" at a university, being someone who advocates for diversity and equity and inclusion.

And I understand that, you know, the story that you're going to be sharing with us tonight is extremely personal, and I wanted to ask how did you get over the hurdle of being able to talk about it on stage in front of an audience?

It was very, very hard to start talking about it out loud.

I had to start writing about it, and I had to reflect on it for a lot of years.

And I understand that you are working towards becoming a chaplain.

And I just wanted to know what do you hope to do in that field once you do become one?

COX: Yeah.

Well, I'm hoping to become a particular kind of chaplain, actually.

I mean, there are prison chaplains and hospital chaplains, and hospice chaplains.

But I'm hoping to develop a kind of chaplaincy about what happened for me and what's happened to so many people like me, and just try to develop more support and more understanding around this situation.

♪ When I was 41, life was good.

I had a wonderful partner, a wonderful son, and a great do-gooder kind of Job.

And my job was 90 miles away from my family.

But I did not mind.

I loved to drive, and I thought I had the best commute in the world.

It was right along the Pacific Ocean on California's famous Highway 1.

So one December night, after a cozy pre-holiday weekend with my family, I was cruising down Highway 1, and I was in my favorite part of the drive.

I had passed through all the towns and I was going through farm fields.

It's just gotten dark, and I had the road all to myself as I headed into a curve.

And then I heard and felt something, something like a thud, but not like any thud I had ever experienced.

And I thought, "Was that an earthquake?"

"A wheel coming off?

A deer?"

And then I saw a young man in jeans and a windbreaker rolling up over the hood of my car, hitting my windshield and flying up over the roof.

And I, I jammed on the brakes.

I pull over the car, I ran up the road thinking, "Could that really have been a man?

"Was he just gonna walk over to me and say, "'Well, that was close.'

"Was he pulling himself together on the shoulder?

"Could I, could I help him up?

Was he lying in the roadway, you know, a little bit hurt."

I had to find him, but I couldn't see him anywhere.

So I ran back to my car and I started punching 9-1-1 into my phone, and I kept getting the dropped call beep.

(sighs) I finally reached an operator.

She said, "It's going to be at least 30 minutes before we can get someone there."

So I jumped out of my car again, and I ran back up the road, looking and looking and waving at the very few cars that were passing by.

And finally two young women pulled over, and they said they would help me find him, and they had a flashlight, so they saw him first.

He was lying in a field way off the road.

They went back to their car, and I went over to him, and he was completely still.

I knew he was dead.

I stood by him for a long time, crying and praying, and thinking a lot about his family.

And then I remembered that the operator had told me to sit in my car with the phone plugged in.

So I went back to my car.

And then I just sat in my car, sobbing, and trying to think how I had...

I hit him.

I knew I hadn't been drunk or high, or speeding, but to this day... this day I don't remember being distracted or even looking away.

I still don't know exactly what happened.

All I know is I didn't see him coming and he didn't see me.

The Highway Patrol's best guess was that he started to cross the road before looking up to his right where I was coming around that curve.

He was 18.

All my life I had wanted to do good, and somehow I had actually ended up killing somebody, and I did not want to go on living in a world where something like that could happen.

And I certainly didn't want my car back.

But I had to go on driving, just like I had to go on living.

I had a partner, and a son, and a full-time job.

I had to go on.

But now my son is grown and I've left that job.

Now I go on by telling the story of that night.

That's the good I feel like I can do now.

And very well-meaning people say to me, "Shane, don't talk about that night.

Don't think about that young man," but I want to think about him every day.

I want to remember him just as I would want my own son to be remembered.

Just recently I was at a dinner and the woman sitting next to me said, "So, what do you do?"

And I said, "Well, I talk and write about what I learned as the driver in a fatal car crash."

And she said, "Hm, what did you learn?"

And I said, "Well, I learned that everything "really can change in an instant, "and I learned that I have way less control "than I ever thought.

And that death is really, really close at hand."

She looked stunned.

And I realized I had become death at dinner.

(laughter) As she started talking to the woman on the other side of her.

And I understood, but the next day I got an email from her.

She said, "Dear Shane, I told my kids at breakfast this morning "that if they ever see me texting in the car, they should take my phone away from me."

(sighs) And I, I, I read that email over and over, and I thought this is why I'll go on talking about that night and this is why I'll go on keeping that young man close in my heart for the rest of my life.

(applause) ANNOUNCER: This program is made possible in part by contributions from viewers like you.

Thank you.

♪