A classically trained pianist and teacher, she built a boutique studio called Find Your Voice 2. It wasn’t just about notes or stage presence. For Charlee, music was the tool she used to help her students discover who they really were.
“Young artists are so often misunderstood,” she once said. “They need a reflection of their light.” Her students knew exactly what she meant. Years later, many still reach out to say her belief in them changed their lives. Charlee calls them her legacy.
That was before August 2024. That was before the diagnosis that changed everything.
Charlee has ALS. In less than a year, the disease has stolen her ability to sing, walk, or play piano. She has lost the use of her arms and hands. Her voice—once the instrument she used to teach, to encourage, to connect—has been reduced to faint sounds she jokes “could be mistaken for Chewbacca.”
Humor has always been her way through, but even she admits there’s nothing funny about what ALS takes away. It’s progressive, unrelenting, and it never asks permission before it closes another door.
One of the hardest losses is independence. Charlee has always been fiercely self-reliant. Now, she requires full-time caregiving to live safely at home. Medicaid covers some hours, but far from enough.
Every month, she and her advocates face the impossible math: $1,900 in disability income versus thousands upon thousands in caregiving costs. Even with every benefit maximized, there’s still a gap of $5,000 or more. And that’s before medical equipment, before therapies, before the countless small costs that pile up when life shrinks to the size of a living room.
But even harder than the bills are the supports cut off when ALS makes it impossible to keep up.
Physical therapy was one of the few things that actually helped. Treatments like visceral nerve therapy and laser therapy eased her pain and brought relief. Then came the day her clinic emailed to say she was no longer a patient. The reason? Missed appointments.
What they didn’t account for were the endless hurdles of arranging caregivers, coordinating transportation (including assistance from the local fire department), and simply surviving a disease that makes every step harder. It wasn’t neglect. It was ALS.
The loss of therapy was devastating. “When you find something that works, you want to turn that on full force,” said her friend, Randy. “To have that taken away…it’s beyond disappointing. It’s cruel.” Charlee agrees.
She described her body now as “crumpled and contorted and tight” without the treatment that once gave her relief. And she’s left asking the same haunting question too many people with ALS face: Why am I punished for what I can’t control?
The truth is, she pays the price for a broken system. And the weight of that falls squarely on her shoulders.
Thanks to your generosity, though, Chive Charities was able to lift some of that burden and cover a $2,500 grant for therapy, making sure Charlee doesn’t have to give up the care that keeps her grounded.
The rest of the grant will go toward purchasing a breathing machine—a critical piece of equipment that will help her stay safe at home. Together, these gifts bring stability in a life where stability is too often ripped away.
ALS has taken so much from Charlee. It’s not fair. It’s not her fault. And yet she pays the price again and again. Your generosity changes that story. It makes sure she isn’t cut off from care. It helps her breathe easier, sleep easier, and keep writing.
Because even now, she’s still writing—poems, stories, and a children’s book that teaches kids to read music in just 45 minutes. She tested it in classrooms herself. Kids who had never touched a piano were reading rhythms by the end.
And even though ALS has silenced her voice, she still finds ways to be heard. In a recent post typed with her eyes, she wrote: “There’s always a gift reflecting our light back to us in our darkest hour. We need only open our eyes.”
She’s right. And today, that gift is you.
Your support restores access to care that should never have been taken from her. And it sends Charlee a message she deserves to hear: you are not alone. We see you with eyes wide open.
Be that gift for someone else and join our Chive Charities Green Ribbon Fund today. We need you more than ever. DONATE HERE.