Heavyweight Short: Hallie
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Transcript
Khalila Holt.
Yeah.
Heavyweight producer?
Uh-huh.
Dancer?
No.
Singer?
No.
Did I say heavyweight producer?
Yeah.
And today, you're going to be more than just a, I shouldn't say just.
Today,
today,
you're going to be presenting us with a story.
Yes.
I'm excited about it.
Thank you.
I am too.
In anticipation of
the season coming up in the fall,
we're going to be doing some smaller stories.
But smaller?
Is that the right word?
Because they're not small in significance.
They're just shorter.
They're kind of just shorter.
Yeah.
Does it feel condescending to call them mini episodes?
Lightweights?
I think that's more condescending.
Why don't we just call it like heavyweight shorts?
Heavyweight shorts.
For summer.
Shorts for summer.
All right, fine.
Let's call them heavyweight shorts.
And you're going to be presenting us with our inaugural heavyweight short.
Yes.
Today's heavyweight short
Hallie.
Right after the break.
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Hallie keeps coming back to a brief interaction she had with a stranger when she was 17 years old.
The whole thing only lasted a few minutes, but those minutes, she says, set the course for the rest of her life.
And the stranger has remained on her mind ever since.
God, like once or twice a year, I think about her.
How long has it been now?
This was August of 2012.
So it's been almost nine years.
Nine years ago, Hallie was in high school and dating her first serious boyfriend.
She was sexually active for the first time and becoming increasingly anxious about not being on birth control.
In health class, the teacher always said to talk to your mom about birth control, but Hallie's mom was prone to unpredictable mood swings and could sometimes get violent.
The two no longer spoke.
So Hallie lived with her dad, a strict and religious man who believed it was morally wrong to have sex before marriage.
Hallie remembered the day he'd seen her little sister with a guy he didn't approve of, how he'd lifted the boy in the air by his collar.
Hallie had no older sister, no aunt, nor family friend she could call upon.
Not knowing where else to turn, she showed up one day at a healthcare clinic in her hometown of Whitefish Bay, Wisconsin.
Her younger sister came along for emotional support.
We definitely timed it so that my dad would be at work because
it's a small town.
We were worried about our car being spotted in the parking lot.
I was absolutely shitting myself.
I was trembling.
I was so frightened.
The clinic was on a busy street and had lots of windows.
Hallie felt exposed even being there.
Once she worked up the nerve to approach the woman behind the reception desk, she began to explain her situation.
I'm interested in getting on birth control, but
it cannot show up on any kind of billion statement because my dad will notice.
I'm sure she must have seen how scared we were because it was something clicked.
Like it was, it felt like one of those
moments, one of those like unspoken conversations that sometimes happen between women where one just recognizes the need and another.
Yeah.
Like she got to work.
She like started punching a bunch of stuff into the computer and I remember her leaving the desk at one point to try to like ask some of the other people on staff like is there any way that we can do this?
And ultimately the answer was no because it would violate, I don't even know how many like medical ethics laws.
So I was prepared to like at that point walk out and just be defeated and think about something, you know, know, try to, I don't know.
I don't know what I was gonna do.
I have no idea what I was gonna do at that point.
Probably drop it.
But the receptionist didn't drop it.
She suggested calling Planned Parenthood.
And when Hallie was too scared to call, the receptionist said that she would call for her.
And she just used the phone right there at the office and pretended to be me.
She gave them my name and she just like, she just asked all of the questions that I was too scared to ask.
I mean, she made an appointment in my name.
Even though Hallie's interaction with the receptionist was brief, she offered Hallie more than anyone else had.
She didn't shame Hallie, betray her confidence, or judge her.
She made her feel looked after, like a caring mother would.
I went on to graduate from college, and I'm now currently living abroad, pursuing my master's degree.
But I just can't help but think,
you know, I know that none of it would have been possible if I'd gotten pregnant instead.
Especially then, like, oh my god, imagine trying to deal with like a pregnancy in a very religious father?
Holy Holy shit.
And so Hallie and I are talking today because she wants my help in finding the receptionist so she can let her know what an impact she had.
I want to say thank you so much for seeing how scared I was and
for making a scary situation manageable and just, you know, holding my hand through this and making sure that I was okay.
I mean, she's the reason I'm okay.
But
I didn't have that presence of mind to thank her.
And what do you remember about just like what she looked like?
I'm assuming you don't remember her name.
I don't remember her first or last name.
No.
I remember her being kind of a heavier set black woman wearing scrubs, which probably won't help you know, but that makes sense.
I think in my mind, she kind of had like long braids that went down to like, maybe down to her waist, but
that's how I've always remembered her.
And I don't know how much of that is embellishment, but I would.
I don't know why I would make any of that up.
It's not much to go on, but I promise to try to find the receptionist.
Luckily, Hallie's sister remembers which clinic they went to that day, because it was where their gynecologist worked.
I call the clinic and explain to a taciturn man that I'm trying to find out who worked reception in 2012, because a woman who talked to that person for a few minutes a decade ago wants to talk to her again, about something I can't get into into at the moment.
Will you help me figure out who that receptionist was, I ask.
He says no.
I call back the next day, hoping I'll get someone else, but the same man answers, and I hang up in a panic.
From there, I set in motion a series of increasingly desperate bids for information.
I patch Hallian from abroad to call the clinic with me.
I send her old gynecologist Facebook messages and even mail a letter to her house, which feels uncomfortably illicit.
One should no more contact a doctor at their home than follow an actor backstage.
In the end, none of it yields anything.
Finally, I find someone at the head office who's moved by Hallie's story and willing to help.
I give her Hallie's description of the receptionist and the year she'd have been working the front desk.
And a few weeks later, she gets back in touch with the name,
Markina.
I'm super nervous.
What's the thing that is making you nervous?
I guess I just have been wanting to thank this person for so long, and I guess I'm worried I'm not going to do a good job.
You haven't told her everything, right?
I didn't, yeah.
I mean, I told her sort of the broad stroke.
I'd spoken to Markina just briefly, explaining that she'd helped a young woman named Hallie long ago.
It didn't ring a bell.
Still, Markina said that she was happy to talk.
Should we call?
Do you feel you feel ready?
Yes, let's call.
Hi, this is Martina.
Martina, hi, it's Khalila and Hallie calling.
Hi.
How are you?
I'm good.
How are you?
I'm well.
Thank you.
Hallie pauses, trying to figure out what to say.
And then, just as she did nine years ago, she swallows her fear and begins.
So when I was 17 years old, I was um, I was sexually active, um, and I couldn't talk to my parents about it.
Me and my younger sister explained the situation.
Like, we're interested in getting on birth control pills, but our father is the type of person who goes over bills with a fine-tooth comb.
And if we get- Oh my gosh, I do remember you.
You do,
I do remember you.
Really?
Oh, such a cry, baby.
I'm so sorry.
I'm sorry, too.
You do remember this, really?
I do.
I do.
I do.
I do.
And I remember calling my boss.
Yeah, you did, that's right.
Asking her, like, okay, I don't want to get in trouble, but I want to help her.
But do you remember what you did next?
Even after your boss said you guys couldn't help, because I think it would have understandably violated a bunch of ethical.
Yes, um,
you still didn't stop.
You called Planned Parenthood and you made an appointment in my name.
And then the next following week, I was able to keep that appointment and I got on birth control and I was okay.
I just think about how lucky I was that you were there that day.
And I wanted to say thank you.
Thank you so much.
I have
daughters,
and I was once
that scared teenager that needed help.
So I always try
to be that mother for someone,
or that aunt for someone,
or that just someone for someone.
No, you were you.
That's exactly what I needed.
And that's exactly who you were.
It would have been so easy for you to just, after talking to your boss, to say, I'm sorry, I can't help you.
But
I really, I just wanted you to know that I've never forgotten what you did.
And for the last nine years, I've thought about you.
I went on and got my
bachelor's degree, and I'm actually in the middle of pursuing my master's right now.
And I have just always thought that that might not have been possible
if I didn't get the help I needed.
Marakina,
what is the thing that you remember like about that day?
Like, what is it that rang a bell for you?
When she said, when she explained to me
about her father,
in that moment,
it didn't matter about
work.
It didn't matter about
whatever,
if I was to be rolled up, you know what?
I'm taking one for the team.
I knew I could not just leave her be like
I had to help her
because it was somebody that helped me.
My father molested me.
And
I had no one to talk to.
And I was afraid to tell people.
One day,
I was walking.
There's a,
it's a bridge on one of our streets.
And
I had went through something terrible that night.
I'll say that.
And it had something to do with my father.
So that morning I decided, you know what?
I'm out of here.
So I was walking over this bridge
and
my head was down.
I I was sad, of course.
And there was this man
that appeared.
We were just walking past each other.
And he stopped and he said, whatever it is, it will be okay.
You pick your head up and you smile and you keep going.
Now we're in the middle of the bridge.
I'm going one way.
He's going the opposite way.
Full minute later, I turned around,
say thank you,
and he was gone.
So
looking at her reminded me, even though her situation was totally different,
looking at her reminded me of how scared I used to be and how
I would reach out
and just wanted someone to help me.
To hear you, to hear you talk about your past past and to now revisit that moment,
knowing where you were coming from
is remarkable.
I'm so
grateful that you saw me that day and didn't just like see me in front of you, but you saw what I needed.
And I remember you,
like one of the very first things you said was, you said you were proud of me for coming in.
Which was, I think, exactly what I needed to hear in that moment.
And I'm so proud of you now.
Thank you so much.
You're welcome.
You are so welcome.
Hallie recently visited Whitefish Bay.
She asked Markina if she could see her, and Markina said she'd like that.
She still works for the same healthcare network, although at a different clinic, and she told Hallie to come say hi during the workday.
Hallie brought Markina flowers.
She drove to the clinic, walked inside the door, and didn't care who saw her.
This heavyweight short was produced by me, Khalila Holt, along with Stevie Lane, Mohini McGowker, and Jonathan Goldstein.
Special thanks to Sam Reisman, Sherry Mance, and Dr.
Lind.
Catherine Anderson mixed the episode with original music by Christine Fellows, John K.
Sampson, Blue Dot Sessions, and Bobby Lord.
Follow us on Twitter at heavyweight or email us at heavyweight at gimletmedia.com.
You can listen to the show for free on Spotify.
We'll be back with a new heavyweight short in two weeks and a new heavyweight season this fall.
This is Justin Richmond, host of Broken Record.
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