A Pink WaterFire- Amanda Milkovits

October 7, 2007

 

PROVIDENCE — A woman from Pawtucket was celebrating her first year in remission from breast cancer.

 

A woman from Worcester whose breast cancer had returned after 6½ years vowed to beat it again.

 

And a woman from Cumberland remembered her mother, who had died 16 years ago after a swift battle with breast cancer, and who had urged her two daughters to get mammograms early.

 

They were among about 300 men and women who stood with torches in their hands on the steps of the State House last night, gathered under the setting sun for the second annual “Flames of Hope … A Celebration of Life.” And, they were a testament to the far-reaching web of the disease and its impact on so many lives.

 

The event itself began from the memory of one Providence woman — Gloria Gemma — whose five sons and four daughters wanted to find a way to honor her after she died of breast cancer in 2002. Two years after her death, Gloria Gemma’s family founded the Gloria Gemma Breast Cancer Resource Foundation, which aims to raise awareness and educate people about breast cancer, and generate money for breast-health programs.

 

The foundation held its event in connection with WaterFire, with the hopes of raising more than $100,000 for cancer programs around the state. And last night, the inspiration of one woman led to a powerful, and moving, gathering of hundreds of people affected by breast cancer.

 

Diane Lizewski, of Worcester, had survived breast cancer after being diagnosed 6½ years ago. Then the cancer went to her other breast. Her sister called Friday to tell her about the breast-cancer benefit at WaterFire last night.

 

The sisters and two co-workers drove to Providence to be among hundreds of other survivors. “It’s exciting just to see so many people,” said Lizewski, with a torch in her hand. “It affects so many people.

 

Heidi Morgan, of Pawtucket, was celebrating a year in remission. She’d come to the first event last year, six weeks out of treatment. Last night, she wore a pink boa and a sash around her breasts that said Survivor. “It’s great to be here, and to be alive,” she said.

 

Celeste Craven, of Cumberland, was there to honor her mother, Bernadette Belanger, who died in February 1991 at 56 years old. “It’s tough when you see someone you love go through it,” Craven said. “It never leaves you. It stays with you.”

 

Among the 300 or so torch bearers filling the State House steps were men and women who were being treated for breast cancer, were in remission, or were counting the cancer-free years. And, in the crowd at the base of the steps, were others with cancer or with loved ones who’d been lost to the disease. There were people whose faces and bald heads showed signs of chemotherapy. Some audience members wore shirts that spoke to the memory of someone who’d died from the disease. Others wore shirts that were signs of defiance. One man wore a shirt with a big pink ribbon and the message: “My wife has great ta-tas.”

 

There was U.S. Rep. James Langevin, whose mother was treated for breast cancer. The mother of Andrew Clark, who conducted the Providence Singers on the steps last night, also suffered from breast cancer. There was Michael Samuelson, of North Kingstown, who read a poem he had written in which he addressed his own breast cancer as “a rude guest,” with the refrain: “You may not tread on my spirit. You may not occupy my soul.”

 

The dusk gray skies gave way to streaks of pink clouds briefly overhead, as even the sunset seemed to want to show off.

 

Anthony Gemma, the foundation’s president and one of Gloria’s five sons, told the crowd about his mother. “To our family, her death was devastating. The pain and sadness never goes away and never heals,” he said. “Tonight, her presence is as vivid as the light you see on the State House steps.”

 

The State House was suddenly illuminated in pink lights. As the evening finally rolled in, Barnaby Evans, the creator of WaterFire, lit his torch and passed the fire to Mayor David Cicilline and Gemma.

 

The torch fires were quickly spread. Clusters of torches in flames, whipped by a gentle breeze, illuminated the faces of the people holding them. There were so many people, and so many torches, that the fires warmed the crowd at the foot of the steps. And then, the torch bearers — men, women and children — walked down into the audience, which parted for them, and down to the Waterplace Park basin, where crowds of people gathered at WaterFire burst into applause — and some into tears.