Today, is the final day to see The Eye of Lightning Billy by Harold Stevenson on exhibit at the Jewish Museum of New York. During the exhibit, back in June, 2022, Brandon Stanton, author of Humans of New York, wrote a story about Detra Denise. It was an amazingly familiar story to me. Maybe, because I’d heard a similar story. Every one is a hero to someone. This is a long post. First, is Detra’s story. Then, we’ll talk about Roy Dale Billy. He too saved a life, and a was a hero to someone.
“I wasn’t the first preacher’s wife to run away. … We were driving through the part of Arkansas where bluegrass runs through the hills like blood in the veins. It was dusky dark. And you could cut the tension with a knife. We’d just come from a visit with a ‘church mediator.’ I asked a few questions about our family finances, and the man accused me of ‘usurping my husband’s authority.’
On the way home, my husband said: ‘Detra, you need to get back on my side.’ Right then something snapped. I hadn’t said a cuss word since the age of ten, when I got a whipping for saying ‘gosh.’ But I called my husband a ‘son of a bi*ch,’ right there in that burgundy Suburban. He pulled over to the side of the road. For the first time I didn’t cower. I didn’t grovel. I grabbed my purse, opened the door, and stepped out onto the side of Interstate 40. I knew I was crossing a line of no return. It was clear and dusky dark.
I said: ‘Well God, I finally did it, and I wouldn’t mind a ride.’
Up in the distance I saw a car pulled off the side of the road. And the passenger door was open. I had no idea what was in there. It could have been a killer. But I knew whatever it was, had to be better than what I’d known.’”
(2/15) “When I was a little girl there were two records in our house that weren’t church music.…In Baptist College I was voted ‘most naive’ three years in a row. I met my husband in the school ensemble, and he’d always find a way to sit next to me.” (3/15) “For our honeymoon we went to Eureka Springs and saw a live performance of The Passion of The Christ. … For the next 34 years of my life, my only escape was music. I was the pianist for church: at weddings I’d play my joy, at funerals I’d play my pain. I’m ashamed to admit that I stayed for another eighteen months. Until that dusky dark evening, when I stepped out onto Interstate 40. And God pulled over to pick me up.”
Can we find the mother-daughter duo from May 27, 2015? After seven o’clock PM, and the western sky began to turn dusky dark, God appeared on I-40, somewhere between Clarksville AR and Fort Smith AR. She had long hair. Her grown daughter, of slim build with long straight hair down past her shoulders, was driving. They were headed west on I-40 towards Oklahoma.
(4/15) “She was a female doctor from the Choctaw Indian Nation. And I could tell that she’d rescued before. She stepped out of the car, slid an arm around me, and found a hand. My husband tried to stop her. But she slammed the door and told her daughter to drive. They dropped me off at the nearest Holiday Inn Express, and the first thing I did was call my sons Garrison and Lucas.
Do you know who our Choctaw heros are from 2015 on I-40? Contact us.
Lucas said: ‘Stay right there. I’m coming to pick you up.’ He drove me fourteen hours back to his apartment in New York City. Near our apartment there was a plaza, with a place to sit. I made so many new friends. At dinnertime I would tell Lucas about all the people I was meeting in the plaza, and he’d say: ‘Mama, you’ve been in New York for a week. And your network is bigger than mine.’ Finally he decided to come see for himself. I went around the plaza and introduced him to my entire network. As we were leaving to go home, he said: ‘Mama, all of your friends are druggies and prostitutes.’”
(5/15) “My entire life I’ve been good at following rules. But in New York I didn’t know any of the rules. … I’d only planned to live with him for a few weeks, until a better option came along. But there were no rooms I could afford to rent. So the weeks turned into months… (6/15) “In Brooklyn there was a church with a 300-voice world famous choir. One week they announced that the choir would be holding auditions. I knew I could carry a tune, so I signed up for a slot. I told her my story, and then I sang ‘Amazing Grace.’ And when I finished, she said: ‘Detra, you passed.’ I could feel my soul begin to stretch.
(7/15) “Every Sunday after my shift at Starbucks I’d eat at a place called Hill Country BBQ. It was the closest thing to Arkansas that I’d found in New York. They had sweet tea. And moist brisket. And live music every weekend. After a few months the lead singer noticed me mouthing along, and he decided to have a little fun. He said: ‘Detra, come up here and sing a song with us.’ It was a Sunday afternoon, so there wasn’t much of a crowd. The song was ‘Make You Feel My Love’ by Adele. And I must have done alright. I think it was probably a small thing for them, letting me sing. But for them to have said: ‘We want to hear your voice. Come just as you are.’ It was a big thing for me.
(8/15) “I thought about what Lucas had said: ‘Let go of all the rules.’ And the very next week I started writing a one-woman show. I called it ‘One Woman’s Journey To Love,’ and it was nothing but love songs, with little pieces of my story in between. … There were 35 or 40 people there. Most of them were my Starbucks customers: the regional manager came; my district manager came. The first song I sang was ‘L-O-V-E,’ by Nat King Cole. And I owned it.” … (9/15) “It was magic that night. … On the night of my performance, I’d been living in New York for just over a year. For months I’d been praying to God: ‘Help me find a way out of here.’ … I checked into a private shelter in Chinatown. On the night I was admitted, they made me have my picture taken for a photo ID card. I had to sign a piece of paper, to prove that I was homeless. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. When I put my signature on that line, I felt like I was sealing my doom.”
(10/15) “One day I noticed that a boxing club had opened a few blocks down. They were offering trial lessons for $40. There weren’t many athletic clothes in the shelter’s clothing closet. So I came to my lesson wearing faded blue men’s swimming trunks, an oversized T-shirt, and my black Starbucks work shoes. The owner’s name was Martin. And one thing about Martin, is that he’s always saying ‘kid.’
He took one look at me when I walked in the door, and said: ‘What’s your greatest fear kid?’ He threw me a towel, and said: ‘Get in the ring, kid. I’m about to change your life.’
That first day he taught me how to do the ‘jab, jab, cross.’ Two jabs with the left, and a cross with the right. When we finished Martin asked me when I was coming back. I told him I couldn’t because I didn’t have any money. He said it didn’t matter. He called out to the person running the desk and said: ‘Hey! Put this kid on my list!’”
(11/15) “I’d always head straight to the gym after my shift at Starbucks. Martin trained me for free the entire time I was in the shelter. It became my way of giving voice to everything that was done to me. The psychological abuse in the marriage. The sexual abuse as a child. All the guilt I’d been made to feel, all the shame. It was wrong. I’ve known it was wrong my whole life. But I never defended myself. But now I was doing something. I was fighting back. When I walked out the door, I felt relieved of so much pain.
(12/15) “I was still in the shelter at Christmastime, so Garrison, my other son, flew in from Arkansas to be with me. Garrison gave me a small box, with a bracelet inside. On it there was a single charm of New York City. He told me: ‘This is your New Life Bracelet. Every morning the shelter guard would wake me up at 3 AM, so I could catch the train to Brooklyn. I worked the opening shift at Starbucks. I knew all my customers’ names. I’d memorized their orders. My favorite thing was when I got to write their name on the cup. I’d always draw a special little curve underneath, just to let them know they were special.”
(13/15) “The first thing I did when I got a real paycheck was hire a real estate broker. He said: ‘Not in New York. Not at your price point.’ But I told him: ‘I’m a praying woman.’ Sure enough he called the very next day. He said: ‘You’re not going to believe this. I found a place in Harlem.’ Garrison bought me a second charm. It was a little house, with ‘Home Sweet Home’ written on it.”
(14/15) “… the following Sunday I scheduled a final performance of ‘One Woman’s Journey To Love.’ I told the audience: ‘We are dealt so much in life that’s wrong. And we do so much that we wish we hadn’t. But you’re so much more than those things. You are beautiful, and you are needed in the world.’
(15/15) “I’ve learned a lot about myself these past few years. I was put in charge of hiring for our entire company. For 55 years I never liked myself much. But now when I hear people describe me, I like that woman. I’ve worked hard on her. In the evening I like to set my chair out on the sidewalk, turn on my Bluetooth speaker. Then I sit back, take a deep breath, and watch Harlem walk by.
Stay tuned for Roy Dale Billy’s story.