A week from today, it will be one year since a particular wonderful man left this earth. His passing has touched the lives of thousands, reflected in the countless people showing love and support for his remarkable wife.
Cory Iverson was taken while fighting the Thomas Fire, in Ventura County, on December 14th, 2017. This news was shared by Cory’s uncle, to Cory’s wife, around 11am that morning. Ashley’s first instinct was to make sure her two and a half year old baby girl knew what had happened. With their second child in her belly, Ashley bent down to Evie and told her, “Daddy went to be with God.”
After being best friends for 25 years, Ashley Iverson, is my “sister”. We’ve been through all of life’s ups and downs, together – divorce, graduations, floods, career milestones, fires, births, deaths, breakups and falling in love. Although I only knew Cory for a few years, first meeting him just the day before their wedding, he had become someone incredibly special to me. He cared for me, and opened up his home and his family to me. He drove the nine hours, both ways, with his wife and his newborn baby, Evie, to attend my mother’s Celebration of Life, even though he only met my mom once. “She took care of my girl, so I am incredibly grateful to her.” I never thought I would be able to repay him for these gifts he gave to me. Joining them on Evie’s first camping trip was an absolute honor, where I had the pleasure to sing her a lullaby around the campfire before bed and wake up to her hugs in the morning. The passion that he exuded when catching me up on his training with CalFire was like no other. I loved asking him about work, if only to witness someone truly proud of his career. Amazingly, he had the same sense of pride for his family.
My most cherished memories with Cory happened right here in our community, at Kirkwood.
Ashley and Cory came to visit us at Kirkwood. They stayed in my apartment, Cory cooked us dinner each night, and the four of us held hands around my mom’s coffee table, saying a prayer before enjoying the meal. Having suffered a concussion a month prior, I did not have the opportunity to go snowboarding with Cory and Ashley, and tried to keep my devastation hidden. Regardless of my efforts, this sweet couple still chose to go snowshoeing one morning, forfeiting half a day of their time here to snowboard, just to have a little adventure with me.
This visit was in March, 2017. Kirkwood was the last place Cory ever snowboarded.
Cory’s spirit is here, I have no doubts. Everytime I attend our yoga class, sponsored by Alpine County, directly above the Kirkwood Volunteer Fire Department, I feel his presence and tears roll down my cheeks. Everytime I ride this mountain on my snowboard alone, I am actually riding with him, and we shred with huge smiles on our faces.
As this date was approaching, like many of Ashley’s friends and family, I racked my brain for anything on this earth I could possibly do to show my sister love, and to honor this man that I miss. To honor the man who taught me what real love looks like. To honor the man whose children I truly love more than any other children on this earth. To honor the man whose bright blue eyes and perfect shining smile flashes across my mind, nearly every day.
Friday, December 14th. Friday…
Then, it hit me. Fluoro Friday.
While traveling in Byron Bay, Australia, six months after my mom had passed away from a four month battle with cancer, I stumbled upon a community. Another California girl, who happened to also be a writer, overheard me talking, and we ended up sharing a table together, with our two glasses of red wine, while enjoying live music. “Do you surf?” she eventually asked after we got to know each other a bit.
“Yeah, a bit, but I am rusty,” I responded, lacking confidence.
“Want to go surfing with me tomorrow? I don’t know if you would be interested, but there is this group that gets together on Fridays. They dress in bright colors and silly outfits and…well… they are trying to keep an open conversation on mental health issues,” she mumbled, nervously, unsure of how this stranger would respond to a bunch of Aussies, dressed weird, talking about mental health.
“Umm…yes! That sounds amazing!” I responded with genuine enthusiasm.
Long story short, I made a friend that night, and two more the next day, that I am still in touch with, three years later. Two important notes: 1) I did not know it then, but I was deeply suffering from depression, and Fluoro Friday helped nudge me onto a road of healing. 2) I made a promise to the small group that showed up on the beach that day, that I continue to uphold.
“Wherever I decide to move, I am going to start a Fluoro Friday group.”
Three months later, I moved to South Lake Tahoe, and began working at Kirkwood a week later. The first “One Wave Lake Tahoe” was launched shortly after, where we carve the powdery white waves of Kirkwood Mountain Resort. A lack of an ocean or surfboards was not going to stop me. It’s about the feeling you get while on “the waves”, the community that is built, the conversations that are opened up, and, of course, the fun and silly outfits.
Now, what does this have to do with Cory? First I miss him, and this upcoming Friday, is not going to be easy. Second, his brave wife has suffered from depression and anxiety for the majority of her adult life, and has been very open about these struggles since his passing, inviting others to open up and take care of themselves. Second, since his passing, she has created a non profit foundation to raise awareness and open conversations around mental health struggles, specifically for first responders.
The Iverson Foundation for Active Awareness, or IFAA.
Have you put the puzzle together yet?
This upcoming Friday, December 14th, 2018, we are going to ride one wave with Cory. This year’s first Lake Tahoe Fluoro Friday is going to commemorate Cory, and is going to be focused on bringing together our whole community – the mental health community, our first responders community, the employees, and the customers. Everyone who has struggled, everyone who knows someone who has struggled, everyone who wants to honor Cory and his incredible wife and two girls. This Fluoro Friday, I want to see American flags, thin red lines, and firefighting gear. I want to feel the whole community come together in love and support for one another’s mental health.
Kirkwood, as a community, suffered loss only a few months after Cory’s passing, and nearly every single one of the first responders that night are my close friends. Paradise is not far from here, and I know at least one employee whose family was deeply affected. Mountain towns, and the ski industry in general, is known to struggle with mental illness.
The pain continues and we do not need to go through it alone. Let me repeat this. We do not need to go through it alone.
Let’s come together to show Cory that we will take care of his fellow brothers and sisters in the first responder community. Let’s come together to show that we will take care of our friends and colleagues who are suffering from anxiety, depression, and other mental illnesses. Let’s come together, strap on our snowboards and click in our skis, in the funkiest outfits possible, making Cory and his girls laugh and smile. Let’s ride OneWave with Cory. Let’s free the funk. It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to admit you are not okay. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to give help. It’s okay to not know what to do or what to say except, “I love you,” or, “I am here with you.”
Let’s bring “the darkness into the light” this Friday, and color up the slopes of Kirkwood with our outfits, make the echoes of our “yeeeewwwws” heard from South Lake Tahoe to San Diego, and fill the Kirkwood Valley with love so strong the vibrations are felt throughout the entire community.
#rideonewavewithCory
Where: Chair 11, Kirkwood Mountain Resort, Kirkwood, CA
When: December 14th, 2018, 11am
After a few runs together we’ll gather in the village for anyone to share, if they would like.
