I went to the Voices of Hope concert because it supported ALS families. I figured it’d be a nice night out, maybe hear some music, check out the vendors. I didn’t expect it to stick with me like it did.
Held out in East Berlin, PA, the event took over a big open field with plenty of space for everything: tents, raffles, food trucks, live music. Kids ran around near the games and crafts while the rest of us wandered between the charcuterie table, vendor booths, and a donut wall that was way too tempting to ignore.
There was homemade soup, toasted cheese sandwiches, warm bread, and trays of sides that felt like something out of a family reunion. If you wanted more, the food trucks were right there too. Everything felt casual and easy. No pressure. Just good people coming together for something real.
Music That Meant Something
The LeBlancs opened the show. Acoustic, smooth, and grounded. They didn’t need to do much to get people to stop and listen.
Then Frankie Torres stepped out, and the tone shifted. She introduced herself, shared that her dad passed away from ALS, and talked about writing “Losing to the Letters” with Mikey Stone, who’s still living with the disease. You could hear it in her voice before she even hit the first note, this wasn’t just another song to fill the setlist. It mattered. That moment didn’t need any buildup. You just had to be there. I looked around and saw people wiping their faces without even trying to hide it. You could feel the weight of it; personal, quiet, and shared by everyone at once.
Then Jimmy Charles came on with his full band, and it was like the entire field exhaled at once. The energy shifted again, this time to joy. He cracked jokes, moved around the stage like he owned it, and had people dancing in the grass before the first chorus even hit. But it didn’t feel like a concert trying to hype you up. It felt like a celebration. He talked about ALS. He talked about why he was there. And you could tell he actually meant it.
Everything Was Intentional
Let Hope Grow didn’t miss a beat. Everything felt thought out but not overdone. The signs, the layout, the flow, it all just worked. You didn’t have to wonder where to go or what to do. It felt natural to move from the raffle tables to the food tents to the kids’ zone to the stage without thinking twice.
The raffle and silent auction tables were packed. Not just with filler items, but with things people actually got excited about. My husband ended up with a signed wrestling boot from Ric Flair (yes, that Ric Flair), which we’re giving to his dad for Christmas. I won a sweets basket from Bird-in-Hand Family Inn, and I’ve already accepted that I’m not sharing it. The excitement over those wins made the night feel even more connected; strangers celebrating with each other, joking in line, comparing ticket numbers. It felt like a room full of neighbors.
There wasn’t a “look at us” vibe. It was more like “we’re in this with you.”
ALS Needs More Attention
Most people don’t think about ALS unless it hits their family. That’s just how it goes. But Let Hope Grow is changing that. They don’t lead with fear. They lead with help. Real tools. Real people. Real support.
This was their first large-scale event, and they absolutely pulled it off. If they do it again next year, I’ll be there.
If you want to support them, it doesn’t take much. Donate if you can. Share their story. Follow what they’re doing. It matters.
Start here: lethopegrow.org
What I’ll Remember
It wasn’t just the sunset. It wasn’t just the soup or the music or the raffle wins.
It was the mom explaining ALS to her kid. The quiet moment between a caregiver and the man she wheeled across the field. The way people leaned in during the songs that hurt a little. And the way they danced anyway.
I’m glad I went. I’ll remember it for a long time.