She never imagined she’d be standing at a memorial, speaking about a man she never met.

Years ago, she was incarcerated. At that point in her life, she believed she was beyond repair. Art, healing, and hope felt like distant luxuries—meant for other people. But then, the ripple reached her.

It began with Jerry.

Jerry believed in his friend, Johnny Stallings, and in Johnny’s vision—that theatre and art could belong inside prisons. That something sacred could happen when people on the inside were invited to sit in circle, tell the truth about their lives, and be seen.

Jerry didn’t wait for results. He didn’t wait for proof. He gave because he believed. That one act of trust set something in motion.

He backed the vision before it had a name. Before there were programs
or grants or data. He believed in one person—and from that belief, a ripple began.

That ripple carried theatre into Two Rivers.
Then into Columbia River.
And eventually to Coffee Creek, where she was.

Artists like Carla Grant and Don Kern stepped into that ripple. They carried it forward.
And because of them, she found herself in a theatre circle—hesitant, uncertain, not expecting much.

At first, it seemed like a distraction.
But it became a lifeline.
A space to breathe. To be human again. To remember she still had a voice.

She didn’t know Jerry.
He didn’t know her.
But the ripple of his generosity found her anyway.

It reached her through the people he supported, the artists he encouraged, the spaces he helped create. It reached her in the quiet moments—sitting in a circle, sharing a scene, listening to someone else’s truth.

Because Jerry gave, her life began to change. And now, she is part of the ripple too.

She shares her story.
She shows up for others.
She believes in those still behind the walls—because someone once believed in her, without even knowing her name.

At his memorial, she stood to speak—not just for herself, but for everyone who’s been touched by what he set in motion.

“One of many you’ll never meet,” she said, “but whose life you helped rebuild.”

To Jerry’s wife Donna, his daughters Christine and Marsha, and his grandson Jordan, she offered this:
“Your family’s generosity continues to move through the world. Jerry’s life touched mine—and I will never forget it.”