“Start with this.”
An older woman said, “I’ll match it.”
A man in a team beanie said, “Put me down for fifty.”
Someone farther up shouted, “A hundred from us.”
Within minutes, people were passing phones, cash, names, numbers, and donation links through Section 112 like we had all come there for that purpose.
Paula kept saying, “You don’t have to do this.”
And everyone kept answering, “We know.”
Then my son did something I will never forget.
He asked Paula for a photo of Eli and his father at a game. She sent it to him.
A few minutes later, during a fan memories segment, the giant screen changed.
A photo appeared of a man holding a little boy on his shoulders, both wearing team jerseys.
The caption read:
“For Mark, forever part of the crowd.”
Paula made a small sound beside me.
The whole stadium cheered.
Most people had no idea what they were cheering for.
But Section 112 knew.
Eli turned toward the roar.
“Mom? What happened?”
Paula took his hand and pressed the words into his palm slowly.
“They put Daddy on the screen,” she whispered.
Eli went still.
Then he smiled.
