I met Dean Young in August of 2003, when I was a fellow at the Bread Loaf Writers Conference. He was a high-spirited, sweet man who wrote quirky poems—and he laughed at his own jokes in those poems. But if someone had told me that Dean Young had a defective heart, I would have sworn it was a joke. His energy seemed boundless.
Just last night I found out that the poet Dean Young is in need of a heart transplant. First, I cried, because this seemed like some seriously unfair [insert many, many expletive nouns] for a nice man to have to face.
And then I decided to post about it, because I’ve noticed that many of the folks who follow my blog and who write comments or email me seem to have really sweet, generous spirits—even the ones who disagree with me. So I thought I would ask y’all to please help Dean to get him a new heart. The cost of the surgery is really high. Like, super high.
Now, I know it’s the end of the year, and I know Christmas is just around the corner, so everybody’s a little short on money, but if you can, please do Dean a solid and give something—if not now, then whenever you can. This is a real person—and you know if I didn’t think he was a nice guy, I sure enough wouldn’t be blogging about him. (Y’all know how I get down.).
And even if you can’t donate money but you believe in prayer, mojo, or just good thoughts, then round those up, and send them Dean’s way, constantly. And please, please spread the word about Dean. That will help, too.