Websters Dictionary defines the word Journey as “an act or instance of traveling from one place to another”.  Over the past 40 years, THON has certainly been on a journey.  It started from humble beginnings in the HUB Ballroom, to growing in the White Building and in Rec Hall, and now to its current home in the BJC.  It has gone from raising just over $2,000 in 1973 to $9.56 million in 2011.  But, aside from the larger journey of the Penn State IFC/Panhellenic Dance Marathon, there are all of the other journeys that have helped to shape THON as a whole; smaller journeys.  There have been tens of thousands of dancers and THON Volunteers throughout these past 40 years.  And, for all those journeys, there is a story.  These are the stories of THON and its volunteers throughout the years. 

Diana (Wolf) Hirsch, Dance Marathon 1991:

“ Back then, after all organization spots were designated, any remaining independent spots were first-come first-served registration.  My partner skipped c lass and stood in line at the HUB, paid the $50 registration fee, and that was it.  Poof!  We were dancing.  There were still people in line behind her.  I think the number of couples went up to 254-260-262…something like that.

  

Who knew how valuable and rare such an opportunity was like that.  We decided to dance on a whim, too.  I think the conversation went something like this:

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Okay, let’s sign up.”

Back then there was only one Morale person to each couple. For my THON, each Moraler made a sign for their couple during The Walk.  It’s a bit different now; in 2010, there was an elaborate maze of painted signs and stand-ups you could take your picture with.  Back then, we were taken in groups to walk through White Building and the hallways were lined with each sign.  Michelle and I were so dazed at that point and we so wanted to see our sign that we walked down the hall smacking our palm on each sign so we didn’t miss it in some who-knows-what-hour daze.  She took one side and I took the other.  We kept asking, “Did you find it yet?” until we found ours.  I recall being very stupidly excited and squealing like a little college girl.

 

You could take naps back then.  I think four 15-minute naps if needed. You laid down on a table and someone watched over you and timed you.  My partner did that, one nap, and woke feeling terrible.  I did that, only one as well, but I’m a fabulous napper so I woke refreshed.  My water gun, however, leaked in my pocket while I napped so I woke to half-wet shorts.

 

Bathroom breaks were by group number numerically, one every 4 hours.  You could take more, but that cost your organization spirit points.  They called your number, took you in groups, and you had to pee quickly because THON staff were rushing you to hurry.  You did the Slides of Strength right after that, and then you were pushed up before the next group slid in.

 

Meals were not good.  You got hungry.  No 24-hour snack station like now.  You ate what they gave you or what your friends brought you, and that was it.  Very little protein, no bananas.  We were so hungry at one point that I asked my boyfriend then to bring us something back from McDonalds (still the one on College Ave).  He brought us cheeseburgers and we gulped them down chanting “these are the best cheeseburgers EVER” like that scene with Meg Ryan in “When Harry Met Sally.”

 

They opened the door at the White Building for fresh air, and you could see the sky: night or day.  We sa w sunlight and it was Sunday morn, so we knew we were almost there.  Of course, all you had to do was cut out the hour-by-hour schedule printed that friday in the Daily Collegian to know what time it was.

 

These are two articles published in the Daily Collegian the following week.  I love the fundraising amount bar graph.  Sounds so simple then. The other is about THON staying in the White Building and how much they wanted to expand, but like the BJC, there were issues with sporting events even then.  Back then, we danced 48 hours, not the wimpy 46 hours today. 

 

No matter the number of hours, The Kids made it all worthwhile.  I didn’t play or interact with the kids much in 1991.  I guess we were shy college juniors, intimidated by the families who were rightly the VIPs.  Also, as an independent dancer couple, were not given a Four Diamonds Child to call ours.  What a shame; we would have been great cheerleaders for someone.  I played hide-and-seek with one of the little ones, and I think Nerf football or something with another.  One kid LOVED his Super-Soaker, and got every dancer as much as he could!  I seemed to be his favorite target at one point, and I was happy to be that.

 

Instead of writing a journal of events, I tape recorded our experience.  I knew at some point focusing on a pen would be an impossible task.  I did write in my photo album afterwards: ”Family Hour made it all worth it.  There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.”  That is still true today.  It’s easy to forget their struggle when you’re struggling on the dance floor, but Family Hour, well, that just makes those 48 (46) hours so very incredible and special.  It’s heartbreaking to see pictures and hear stories of the kids that your feet and fundraising will no longer help, and yet it is so uplifting to hear the success stories.  We did not have a slide show of the kids that did not survive the fight, thank goodness, but the family stories never change.  The feeling of success, of moving forward, of helping in some little way…that makes THON worth every sore muscle and extra tennis ball bought.

 

I did Morale the following year, and I found it tougher than dancing.  You wake, you’re on the floor for four hours, you eat, do homework, sleep, back on the floor 6-8 hours later for another four hours…honestly, it was easier to jut stay awake.  It never diminished the experience, especially since that was the year $1 million was reached!  The experience stays with you, however, which is why I HAD to dance again as an alum, and why I WILL dance again as an alum.

 

To this day, just hearing the word THON makes tears well up in my eyes (like they are as I type this).  I had no idea how that casual “Hey, you wanna dance?” comment I made would affect my life. I can’t believe that I ever considered NOT dancing.

 

My husband supported me through the AlumniTHON events sponsored by the PSAA along with DMAIG in early 2000s (2003 and 2004, I think; “relive your THON experience”; there are ads for it in old PennStater alumni magazines).  He supported me in 2010.  He bought us those blue plastic bracelets of support.  To this day—685 days after I danced—he still wears that band.  He has never taken it off, not through showers or business meetings.  And this year, just as past ones, we will be sitting in a Starbucks, most likely, watching the streaming video on his laptop, waiting for the Total Reveal where he knows I will bawl my eyes out in public.”

Valerie Singley, Dance Marathon 1993:

“In 1993 I danced in THON. My most distinctive memory of THON was the outpouring of support from students who came out to the White Building at all hours of the day and night to support the dancers.  I remember an enormous “Happy Valley Snow Storm” that weekend - of course it did not deter travelers from all over the state to drive to the frozen tundra of State College to support the dancers and families of THON.

 I decided to dance in 1993 because a very close childhood friend and fellow Penn Stater, Chris Petruny, was diagnosed with a Brain Tumor in the fall of 1992.  I danced as an independent but was “adopted” and taken under wing from fraternity brothers of Pi Kapp (Chris’ fraternity). My dance partner Chris Copetas was a great support. 

The most memorable part of THON was when the final numbers were finally revealed and it was the first year that THON exceeded a million dollars in donations.  Although it may be hard to believe, 1993 was prior to internet and computer donation capabilities.  Monies raised were strictly donations requested through “snail mail”, phone calls and canning.  It was an amazing moment to see a 7 figure number revealed on stage. 

Yearly, since graduation, I have contributed to THON and currently my niece, Coriann Hassick is gear chair for OPP for Atlas. The tradition continues… I continue to be involved in raising money for cancer organizations.  I have been a member of a team for the American Cancer Society Relay for Life for the past 6 years after finding out that a friend from Penn State had a daughter diagnosed with Pediatric Cancer.  

 

 One word to describe THON? Well, there are no words to describe THON.  It’s just amazing and can’t be described…it can only be experienced. I feel that Honesty is the diamond that most describes me.  Honesty encompasses all 4 diamonds because I feel that you cannot be honest without having wisdom, strength and courage.

To all the volunteers of THON, remember this moment always.  You will carry these memories and the strength you will gain from this experience forever.  For The Glory and For The Kids.

Valerie Singley

Class of 1994

Dancer THON 1993

Morale THON 1994”

  Douglas Garner, Dance Marathon 1996:

“During February of 1996 I was a college junior at Penn State.  Being involved in the Music Education department meant you had very little time for much of anything else.  The Concert Choir, at that time directed by D. Douglas Miller, had formed a team to dance in the Penn State Dance Marathon; myself and Melinda Zilinskas.  We even chose a Dr. Miller saying, “HAVE A CHAIR” for the back of our official THON shirts.

I awoke on that Friday at my normal time; 6ish, got the first bus to campus at 7am and was drinking coffee in Ottos at Kern before my 8am music theory class.  After a day on campus, I ran home, grabbed my bag of extra clothes and shoes to get to the White gym next to the HUB by our 5pm meet time.  After our initial briefing we had dinner and laid on the floor with our feet in the air.  By 7 we were on our feet and would stay that way for the next 48 hours.  I had already been awake for 13 hours by the time THON started.

I remember very little of the next 2 days.  I remember yo-yos, bubbles, playing four square with Four Diamonds kids, and lots of foot rubs.  Visits on the stage from Kerry Collins, JoePa, President Spanier, and others passed the time.  The official THON line dance every hour was something to look forward to, and there were always kids wandering around.  All of a sudden, it was Sunday evening and we were getting close to the end.  I’ll never forget it: one of the last songs they played was by the group Alabama called “Angels Among Us” and they announced the totals: “NEVER STANDING ALONE” had 566 dancers and raised over $1.2 million for the Four Diamonds Fund.

I have many fond memories of Penn State.  Those 48 hours in February where we fought exhaustion and fatigue to help kids and families in the fight of their lives tops them all.”

We will be posting many more stories, so be on the look out for them.  If you would like to add your story to our continuing journey, please email Kirsten Quisenberry at stories@thon.org.