The South High Marathon Dance: A Small Town Making a Big Difference

Written by: Kiley Stevens
Submitted to SUNY Purchase

It is the first weekend in March and it has begun to snow in the small village of South Glens Falls, tucked under the shadow of New York’s Adirondack Mountains. As you drive through town, you pass the sheriff’s department, a Suzuki dealer, and a few gas stations. One of the two bars in town, Half-Time Bar and Grill, formerly Dingleberries, sits along the wooded road. The Sunoco station, in particular, is lit up out front by a large LED sign. “GOOD LUCK MARATHON DANCERS!” it reads. It’s the biggest weekend of the year: the South High Marathon dance is gearing up to begin.

This weekend, over 800 students from South Glens Falls Senior High School will dance for 28 hours, with only a two-hour sleep break, all to help local people and organizations in need.

Further down the main road that takes you through the center of town, Mr. Bill’s Car Hop, a local favorite eatery, has its lot full. Though the restaurant is closed until spring, the sign reads “SHMD Parking Here.”

In the plaza next to the restaurant is the village supermarket, Hannaford. The large, glass windows are painted and embellished with red and blue balloons: the local high school’s colors. The bowling alley is advertising a SHMD Benefit Night, held the week before in preparation for this weekend.

Since its beginning in 1978, the Marathon Dance has raised over $4 million for its beneficiaries, usually members of the community or the communities surrounding South Glens Falls.

Upon pulling up to the high school, drivers were being redirected to nearby parking lots at various places in town. A shuttle bus would bring the crowds, large enough to fill both gymnasiums, from the parking lot to the dance, reducing traffic in the high school’s parking lot.

The lot is full of cars, some of which are sectioned off by a rope and a sign that reads “Recipient Parking Only.” Alumni serving as traffic controllers patrol the parking lots, directing dancers, alumni and community members alike.

To people in Saratoga, Warren and Washington counties, the South High Marathon Dance is the philanthropic event of the year.

“Everyone in those counties knows, and more importantly, supports the dance,” said Kimm Carota, an alumnus and former dancer.
If you happen to be a new student in the South Glens Falls community, one of the first things you will be told is: “You have to do the Marathon Dance.” The most popular event of the year gets more hype year round than the homecoming dance, the pep rally, or any sporting event held at the school. The Marathon Dance is what being a student at South Glens Falls Senior High School is all about.

Many people who were present for the first Marathon Dance attribute its success to Bill McCarthy. But according to McCarthy, the South High Marathon Dance became the phenomenon it is today as a complete and total accident.

In 1978, McCarthy was an art teacher and the faculty adviser for the Student Council at South Glens Falls Senior High School. The spring was approaching and the student council was assigned one large project: to create a community service project. Neither the students nor McCarthy knew that this project would turn into the single most talked about tradition of South Glens Falls.

“I was just the adviser,” said McCarthy, “It was up to the kids to decide what their project was going to be.” When people call him the “Father of the Marathon Dance,” he becomes uncomfortable.

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m irrelevant,” he said humbly. “The kids started it, I didn’t dance for a minute.”

And so, the planning began, and soon, the student council committee agreed upon the idea for a Marathon Dance, a tradition in the 1920’s and 30’s that was typically a couple’s dance.

“I think they decided on a couple’s dance so that they could drag the boys into it,” McCarthy laughed.

McCarthy, a member of the ski racing team at West Mountain in Glens Falls, borrowed ski bib numbers to assign to each couple. If you stopped dancing, you were out of the dance marathon competition.

Carota, also a participant in the first dance said she remembers the excitement of knowing that the students would be able to stay at the school into the wee hours of the morning.

“For those of us who participated in the first dance, it was very exciting, but more on the level of a social experience,” said Carota. Being able to stay at school late with your friends, organizing line dances and practicing every day after school for the week leading up to the dance, that was the excitement then. It was a fun, communal gathering that happened to be for a good cause. The first year, the students raised $1,500 for the local emergency squad for a new ambulance.

“Today, the participants are very excited, of course,” said Carota. “But now, they end up experiencing something so life changing that they could never experience doing anything else in high school.”

Carota’s daughter, Taylor, participated all four years in the Marathon Dance.

“I was just so proud that my daughter was carrying on a tradition in the community,” she said.

Since Carota was a dancer, the dance has evolved into a communal phenomenon.

“There was no staying overnight, let alone dancing for 28 hours,” Carota said. The first year dancers collected money after the dance, as they solicited sponsors to pay an amount per hour for their dancing. Carota said that most donations were about a quarter per hour.

“No parents came to the dance to watch us, just the organizers,” she said. At the dance today, the entire community and beyond shows up to watch the students dance. Local news outlets such as the Post Star, a Glens Falls based newspaper, and even the News10 team from Albany show up to cover the event.

Julie Munger Leonelli, another alumna, describes today’s Marathon Dance experience as an “epic event.”

“It’s like comparing a little parking lot carnival to Disney World,” said Leonelli.

Leonelli said that as the kids began raising more money, the dance got more attention.

“It is amazing what can happen,” she said. “The right kids, the right parents, and the right school staff…” she continues, “Success breeds success and as the participants and volunteers enthusiasm grew, it took off.”

One sign of the dance’s growing success is the increasing amount of money raised year after year. From raising $1,500 in 1978, to $5,000 in 1984, to $10,000 in 1987, crushing that by another $10,000 the following year, the annual amount began climbing steadily each year, raising more and more money. In 2001, the students broke $100,000. At the 2013 Marathon Dance, they raised over $489,000. The only other marathon dance that has raised more money than the South High Marathon Dance is held by Penn State. But the South High Marathon dance is the single largest high school dance marathon in the nation.

Leonelli said that the magnitude of the dance really hit her when she went back to the dance in 1994 as a representative for the Domestic Violence Shelter.

As a member of the board of the governing body of the shelter, Leonelli and her colleagues had worked like dogs running labor-intensive fundraisers. Then, it occurred to her: she could apply to the Marathon Dance committee to get money for their shelter.

“I wrote a letter and the next thing I knew, I was there accepting a check for $10,000,” Leonelli said.

Today, too, while the dance is still primarily student run and organized, the entire community is involved; teachers, parents, grandparents, younger siblings, locally owned companies and even larger corporations and restaurants.

A core committee, made up of about 60-80 people, handles “behind the scenes” stuff like T-shirts, ordering food, and things of that nature. There is another group who works solely on outside fundraisers, working with businesses like Applebee’s and local restaurants.

Jody Sheldon, a math teacher at the high school, who also doubles as one of the faculty advisers of the dance, says these groups are essential and save the student and faculty committee a lot of time.

She danced during her time in high school, and when she began teaching at her alma mater in 1997, she immediately became involved in the marathon dance. Sheldon says the community involvement has stemmed from the dancers excitement each year, calling it “contagious.”

She also attributes the success of the dance to the growing student involvement. In the 2014 dance, 80 percent of the student population participated.

“We always said it was a community event but it is by far a community event now,” said Sheldon. So much so, she adds, that it has become “ingrained” in the community.

As an adviser of the dance, Sheldon’s role is to oversee all matters concerning the students; including sign-ups, room supervision, and is even the direct contact for the school district. The advisers are in constant communication with both the high school and central administration, ready to deal with anything marathon related thrown their way. Another one of her responsibilities is to work closely with the student committee.

Under the supervision of Sheldon and co-adviser Tom Myott, students gather beginning in October before the dance to start planning the event of the year. Meetings are held weekly, and each year the student committee gains more passionate students who are all about the marathon dance.

Their first order of business is to elect chairpersons, the select student chair committee, who serve as leaders and organizers for the students as they plan the dance. To hold a spot on the student chair committee is an honor and a privilege, one that many students take very seriously.

“I was honestly in shock,” said Devon Sweenor, a chairperson for the 2014 dance. “Since I could remember, I always wanted to be a big part of this dance,” he said with pride. After the committee is elected, the real responsibilities begin.

The school receives hundreds of letters and applications from people near and far, asking for their help with things like medical bills, transportation, and financial support for their loved ones. The stories in these letters tug at the student’s heartstrings, and what’s worse, is that they must narrow down their recipient list.

“The recipient selection, in my opinion, is the most difficult,” said Sweenor. He explained that as a group, the chairpersons get together, make a list of all of the applications, and organize them. In about two meetings, held after school with the rest of the student committee, they vote on who the students think are the most worthy recipients.

“It is very difficult to turn people down,” said Sweenor. He said that they usually choose recipients based on the amount of money requested, how much help they need, and the integrity of the applicant. In years past, unfortunately, there have been instances of fraud in recipient applications.

After making the terribly difficult decision to choose the recipients, the chairpersons get to call each recipient that they’ve chosen (Sweenor says that’s the best part of the whole process) and personally tell them that they’ve been selected for the marathon dance.

Nick Heald has seen both sides of this process. The summer before his senior year, in June 2010, the singer with the sweet tenor was diagnosed with throat cancer and began treatment. Since he was a freshman, he had always wanted to be a chairperson at the marathon dance, helping his classmates select the people who would benefit from the marathon’s charity.

And while he got to be a part of that process, he also became one of the recipients.

“We were picking recipients, and all of the chairs and Mr. Myott said, ‘You’re gonna be a recipient,’” Heald said. “I didn’t even want to be, but Myott said, ‘You’re gonna be.’ I didn’t have an option.”

Though he was grateful to have the support of his classmates and teachers, Heald didn’t want the attention to be on him.

“I didn’t mind being a recipient, but I wanted to be with the chairpeople,” he said. “It was honoring and it was awesome.”

Even while he was undergoing chemotherapy and radiation, Heald kept the marathon dance as a top priority.

During the dance, he resisted going home to rest for a few hours.

“Mrs. Sheldon made me, but I didn’t want to,” he said.

During the first dance in 1978, students who had not signed up for the marathon dance could participate in two open dances, paying a small fee to get onto the dance floor. The first marathon dance lasted 31 hours, starting immediately after school on a Friday night. The students brought their own snacks and drinks for sustainment and were allowed on a rotating basis to take small breaks to drink water.

“Many people who talk about the first dance now, say ‘It was a disaster,’” McCarthy said. “But it wasn’t a disaster, it was an adventure.”

From that adventure, the most prestigious event in the community slowly began to evolve. In the third year, in 1980, was when McCarthy remembered people starting to pay attention and even calls it the “turning point” of the dance’s history.

A student in the high school had lost her father to kidney failure after receiving treatments at a hospital in Albany for a long time. Glens Falls Hospital, the local hospital most accessible to members of the South Glens Falls community, did not have the dialysis machines necessary to perform these treatments at their own facility. At the suggestion of the student, the committee for the dance decided that the money for that year’s dance would go to the hospital so that people like the student’s father could receive treatment closer to home and at a more affordable cost.

The community began to get more and more involved: a “cut-a-thon” was held by local barber shop, raising money with each hair cut given, all to be given directly to the dance.

“This small town had no pockets of wealth,” said McCarthy, “Or poverty, for that matter.” The senior citizens in the community were very active, as were the Boy Scouts and the Rotary Club, which helped the evolution of a giving community.

The small town of about 3,500 is still struggling to find its economic footing after the recession hit in 2008. Former paper mills in the area have since shut down, and residents have a median household income of $45,507, lagging behind the state average of $55,246. According to the 2010 census, about 6.5 percent of the town’s population was unemployed, compared to the state average of 7.5 percent.

In the mid 90’s, according to McCarthy, the dance became popular. Local organizations, such as Stewart’s Shops, a convenience chain in upstate New York and Vermont began donating not only money, but also its products.

Soon, the product donations were rolling in so fast that McCarthy said they couldn’t find a use for all of them. Companies like NIBCO Manufacturing, Coca-Cola and Northeast Promotional Group were donating whatever they could. One Stewart’s scooped ice cream for one day and all of the profits went to the dance, while NIBCO donated hats and ice scrapers with their logos on it.

“That’s when we started the prize patrol,” McCarthy said. Donated VCR’s and other merchandise were given away as prizes for the students who raised the most money for the dance. Today, the “Prize Patrol,” gives away iPads, X-Boxes, and many other expensive prizes to the top fundraisers.

Another marathon dance tradition that began in the early stages of the dance was the costume parties.

In an effort to break up the periods of dancing throughout the event, students would come up with a central theme for the costume party, and then dress accordingly.

“Animal House was the popular movie then,” explained McCarthy, “So the students had a Toga themed costume party.” Another costume party was 1950s themed, and it gave the students a break from the traditional swaying back and forth that they had been enduring for hours.

Today, the costume parties have turned into both a contest and a parade all in itself. Prior to the dance, the student committee chooses three themes to base the costume parades off of. At the 2014 dance, the themes included “The Return Of…,” “Dynamic Duos,” and “Things My Parents Say.”

Once given the themes of the contests, students gather with their friends in small groups to put together a costume idea. At the designated times during the dance, the students line up in their groups, dressed and ready to be judged by a panel of community members who give buttons as prizes for the best costumes.

While many students keep it simple, using cardboard and household materials for their costumes, others go all out, creating a full set for their costumes. During “Things My Parents Say,” a group of students dressed as farm animals walked by with a simple cardboard sign that read “Things My Parents Say: Were You Raised in a Barn?”

A few groups later, a large sign was unfurled in front of the judges that says: “Who are you, the Queen of Sheba?” A group of about eight carried a girl in the group atop a large, wooden, bed-like pedestal. They’ve brought the competition to an entirely different level.

After each costume parade wraps up, the judges let the students sit down to rest while they announce the winners of the costume contests. It seems that a costume parade button, your consolation prize for best costumes, is the Holy Grail at the marathon dance.

As the students continue dancing, fundraising is happening in every nook and cranny of the high school. A garment table sells a variety of South High Marathon swag; T-shirts, pajama pants, hats, blankets and outwear. Little kids line up to pay a dollar to get their faces painted. The concession stands sell hot dogs, pizza, sandwiches, crockpot creations donated by members of the community, while the local Stewart’s Shop scoops ice cream for a dollar a scoop, all to be given to the marathon dance.

In the weeks leading up to the dance, the student committee spends hours after school and on the weekends preparing the decorations for the gym. Depending on the theme (the 2014 dance was circus themed), the decorations vary from small posters, some cut out to look like boxes of popcorn or a lion’s head, to large, elaborate art pieces such as the illuminated acrobats hanging from the rafters of the gymnasium. But the decorations, and the costume parades, and the never-ending conga lines aren’t what it’s about. It’s about the recipients, the beneficiaries of the dance, most of who are in attendance, watching the students dance for their benefit.

For many in attendance, the closing ceremonies are the most exhilarating yet anxiety-ridden two and a half hours of their lives. Followed by a live auction of goods donated to the cause by local businesses, artisans and individuals, the money-raising operations taking place within the marathon dance announce their total funds raised. The photo crew, a team of about ten people, sells photos both online, and in prints for family members and dancers alike. They raised $1,519. The local ice cream shop, Stewart’s, raised $3,000. With the help of other indoor fundraisers, such as the snack bar and garment sales, and including the silent and live auctions, the inside fundraisers raised over $56,000, according to the official SHMD Live Production video, courtesy of Joshua Jacobs.

After those totals are read, the chairpersons invite Jeremy Wood and Dani McMahon, both alumni, to the front of the gym. Now it is time for the coveted Spirit Awards to be announced. Each year, the alumni work as a team, watching the dancers intently to pick five spirit award winners: a freshman, a sophomore, a junior, a senior girl, and a senior boy.

“Whether you go it alone, or go in a group, it’s about being here, being for the dance, and being here for everyone that’s in the stands,” said Wood. Wood, class of 2007, won the award as a freshman back when there were traditionally only two spirit awards given, most often to upperclassmen.

“It is an honor to get to see the looks on people’s faces and share in that energy and honor I felt for myself a few years ago,” he said.

As the alumni dole out the spirit awards, the winners’ fellow students applaud them and cheer. For the seniors, though, it is always a bittersweet moment. This is, no pun intended, their last dance. As Jackie Cronin, another alumnus, begins her speech about the girl winner for the senior spirit award, she begins to cry.

“This senior girl was dancing her heart out the entire time and it didn’t go unnoticed. She’s an inspiring young woman and her courage never ceases to amaze me,” said Cronin. As she announced Magyn Fuller, the sea of 800-plus teenagers stood up and cheered. This year, Fuller is dancing for her mother, JoEllen DeLuca; one of the 2014 recipients.

The alumni then announce their total funds raised from the alumni association, over $18,000. After a standing ovation from the students and spectators, the microphone is handed to Jeff Stewart.

For Stewart, who became involved in the marathon dance in 1982 when he danced for the first time, marathon is about family. In a 2013 interview for the dance’s website, he said that it wasn’t just his immediate family, either.

“There are so many people that are a part of this dance that become your family,” he said. “I have been in weddings, I have seen babies born, I have gone to christenings, and I have unfortunately lost many good friends from the dance.” “But,” he concludes, “It’s a family. You live for this day.”

His father, “Papa” Dick Stewart, known for his participation in the dance since its inception, passed away in 2009. In 2010, the dance was dedicated to his memory, which has lived on in lieu of a newer tradition: the overall spirit award.

“I have the daunting task every year of coming into the dance, not knowing pretty much any of you,” said Jeff to the sea of students, “and finding out who lives marathon all year long.” He searches for a person who has been changed by marathon, because according to him, “that’s what my dad was all about.”

He shares with the students that he went to each chairperson, asking them who they thought was the right candidate. After getting many different names thrown at him, Stewart decided that all of those names deserved recognition. Holding up a piece of paper, he begins to call the names of the students as their peers applaud them. But, there is still one overall winner of the award.

“One name came to the top because of how they handle themselves, the kind of leader they are, who they involve,” begins Stewart. He mentions that the recipient of the award is not in a clique, and commends the person on what they plan on doing after the dance is over.

He announces Pat Fish, one of the 2014 student chair members, who immediately begins to cry when he hears his name. The students rise to their feet, cheering and applauding, while Fish and Stewart hug. For any student, this is an incredible honor.

And then, just like that, the tears have stopped flowing and Stewart tells the students that it’s time for “strut your stuff,” a beloved tradition of the marathon dance in which the students dance together to a few songs, all in sync. Every year, you can count on the students to do “The Gator” dance to the song “You Dropped A Bomb on Me” by The Gap Band, and the classic “Jump On It” dance, made popular by the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air when the Apache song got Carlton and Will tearing up the dance floor.

Nobody groans, and nobody frowns. Stewart says the word and the 800 plus teenagers pop right up, ready to groove. If these kids have been dancing for 27 hours already, they’re doing a great job masking the undeniable exhaustion in their bodies. “Jump On It” gets them moving, shaking their hips first left, then right, then back and forth. They jump in circles, fists in the air; there is no stopping these kids. Even the security guards are dancing, clapping along in front of the students, donning funny hats; one is a lobster, the other a raccoon tail. A few more contemporary songs play after the classics, and after about fifteen minutes, the students sit back down.

After a short time, a video begins to play. The recipients, seated in the bleachers, watch themselves tell their stories, and their gratitude for the dancers and the incredible philanthropic things that they’re doing. Local organizations, which are also considered for benefits from the dance, express their appreciation for the students’ contribution to the community.

“We are in awe of what you continue to do, year after year,” said an operative from Rebuilding Together, an organization in Saratoga County that provides free home repairs to low-income homeowners, including the disabled and Veterans.

The Mollie Wilmot Radiation Oncology Center at Saratoga Hospital, another recipient, was nominated by a South High alumnus. Tiffany Hunter, who watched her mother endure cancer, loved the care that the center provided to her and her family. Her mother, now cancer-free, didn’t wish to be a recipient, so Hunter asked the cancer center if they would be interested in submitting themselves as recipients for the 2014 dance.

The individual recipients and their families shared their messages too. JoEllen DeLuca, battling breast cancer, expresses her pride in spirit award-winning daughter Magyn Fuller. Marie Law, another mother of marathon dancers, begins to cry as soon as she begins to speak.

“I have two boys that go to South High, and I know what it is for them to dance, and I know it’s harder for them this year, because they’re not only dancing for me their mom, but for the other recipients that are out there,” she says.

Back in the gym, the people watching are all silent. Those who couldn’t fit into the gym before the capacity was met filed into the “old gym” to watch on a projector screen. Some hold their loved ones close, while others sit, knees to chest, all engulfed in a reflective, yet hopeful mood.

“To all the dancers: all of your hard work to help complete strangers says so much about your character,” said Nola Byrne in her video message.

Many of the recipients express how honored they feel to be chosen, and thank the students over and over again for their selflessness.

When asked what marathon meant to them, recipient Jacqueline Tyner and husband Randy said: “…Not being alone.”

Emotions are running high within the gym, and surely in the living rooms of those watching the live online stream. After the recipient video comes to close, the students all rise, facing the bleachers where the recipients have been seated. They give them a round of applause, eyes full of tears. These people in those bleachers are the sole reason this dance exists. It is them that they come together and dance for.

The students take their seats again, and physical education teacher and soccer coach Mike Music takes the microphone. “We teach you endurance in physical education,” he begins. “What those people over there have to go through is a different type of endurance. They endure something most of us will never experience,” he continues. “I think we want them to know that we’re going to try everything we can to finish this dance strong; showing them that we can endure, and show respect for their endurance.”

The students now prepare for their group “flash mob” dance, a more recent tradition that has taken off since its beginnings in 2009. The month before marathon, each grade level participates in a dance unit during physical education, learning line dances and ballroom dances. As the dance unit progressed, they began practicing the “strut your stuff” moves. According to Music, a student approached him with a dance he had learned while working at Six Flags the previous summer: the “Thriller” dance, made famous of course by King of Pop, Michael Jackson. Music suggested that they teach the classes the dance, and then during the marathon dance spontaneously create a flash mob each time they heard “Thriller.” It didn’t go as smoothly as he had hoped, so in 2010, the physical education department and Music decided to make the flash mob dance an organized, timed event within the marathon dance. The first year of the mob dance, the students danced to “I’ve Got A Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas, performing it at both the opening and closing ceremonies. According to Music, a student had suggested the song, which had been performed for Oprah at her twenty-fourth season kickoff celebration.

“When I saw the video online of over 20,000 people performing this mob dance, I figured: why couldn’t the dancers of South High Marathon do the same?” said Music in an e-mail interview. They could, and they did, and the community loved it.

“Overnight, it became an expectation,” said Music. He says that students approach him on the first day of school, asking what song he thinks they’ll dance to for the upcoming dance.

The meanings and messages of the songs are most often ones that resonate with the meaning of the marathon dance.

In 2011, they added a mob dance to Shakira’s “Waka Waka” on top of the 2010 dance, even going as far as to record a dubbed over version of the song, replacing Shakira’s lyrics “This time for Africa,” with the Bulldog pride version: “It’s time for marathon.” In 2012, they added a third dance, this time to “Party Rocker Anthem” by LMFAO, and even added glow sticks to their performance.

“The use of glow sticks, props, light suits and banners has all become an expectation and something that must be improved upon each year,” said Music. Remaining with the glow stick theme in 2013, the students only danced to “Party Rocker Anthem” and “Good Feeling” by Flo Rida.

This year, though, is much more special. As the students get down into their starting positions for the mob dance, Music introduces a special recipient: Matthew Sorano, who has been battling Juvenile Parkinson’s Disease since he was a young boy. But Sorano is nowhere in sight. Music smiles coyly and says: “We’re giving Matt the bird’s eye view.”

    As the students move together as one group, the excitement in their feet transcends to the faces of the spectators, watching in wonderment as the dancers seamlessly execute “the wave” dance from one end of the gym to the other. Though they’ve been dancing for 28 hours, there seems to be no sign of fatigue from the students. As the song switches from “Timber,” to “People Like Us,” the lights go down. Lights installed on the sides of the gym glow faintly, showering the students in soft, blue, purple and green lights. A few students in the mob don all black body suits with glow stick hearts illuminating their chests. Other than that, the only light now is coming from above. It is Sorano, suspended in his wheelchair high above the crowd, being controlled by a few strong alumni and a pulley system; the spokes on his wheel chair glowing green and purple. As the song starts to end, all of the 800 plus students kneel down, holding up pieces of paper to represent who they’re personally dancing for. Some hold up pictures of the recipients, while others dedicate their dancing to students and friends in the community who have passed.

It is now time for the recipients to take to the front of the room to speak personally to the dancers. This is adviser Jody Sheldon’s favorite marathon dance tradition.

“It hits home for them (the students) to be able to really hear how they’re affecting these peoples lives, and changing these peoples lives,” she said.

In 2013, the committee decided not to allow the recipients to speak, recording a video (much like this year’s) instead. “It didn’t go over well,” said Sheldon, “because it didn’t have the same emotional impact.”

As the recipients make a single file line in front of the DJ booth, facing the dancers, the tired students rise to their feet to applaud them. Two-time recipient Nola Byrne is the first to speak.

“What you guys do here is going to help me…going to help me survive,” she says tearfully.

Another recipient’s husband takes the microphone to tell the students: “You’re not just helping one person, you’re helping a family come back together.”

Some recipients are unable to attend the dance, most often because of ongoing medical treatments, and send their family members to represent them at the Marathon Dance. Randy Tyner, recipient Jacqueline Tyner’s husband, quotes scripture.

“If you spend yourselves on behalf of the hungry, and if you satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in darkness. And your night, your darkest times, will become like the new day,” says Tyner. He continues: “And many of us are in our nights, or darkest days, and you have been our light.”

On the official SHMD video, you can see recipients and dancers alike wiping tears from their eyes as the speeches continue.

The microphone is passed to Nick Heald, who has always said he’s terrible at speeches.

“You guys are a part of something so special here,” he begins. “This is my second time being a recipient…my first time I was a senior in high school with you guys,” he says, pointing out at the sea of seated dancers, “It’s unbelievably special to be a part of this.” For a “terrible” speechmaker, he nailed it.

A few recipients down the line, Timothy Brimmer and his wife beam out at the crowd.

“I felt like a rock star coming across this room,” he says.

“You’re all a part of Team Brimmer now,” adds his wife.

Many recipients just express how amazed they are at what the students have done for them. There are many thanks given and many tears shed.

Jillian Harrington, one of the younger recipients, sits in a wheelchair in front of her parents. Her mother has run a booth in the other gym for a few years now, and takes the microphone to tell the students: “From the bottom of our hearts, we are Bulldogs.” She smiles down at Jillian, telling the students that in just a few years, Jillian will be able to join them on her own two feet, in her dancing shoes, and she’ll be able to dance all night just like they have. “And it’s because of what you’ve done,” her mother says.

Most recipients keep their speeches short and sweet, but there is usually one recipient that really takes their time to write out a sincere message for the students. This year, it is recipient JoEllen DeLuca, mother of spirit-award winning senior, Magyn Fuller.

“It’s 3 PM on March 7th, 2014 and in a smelly gymnasium in South Glens Falls, NY,  800+ teenagers have been dancing for over 20 hours. Why? Because they are the best kids on the planet. And their hearts are full of love and compassion. They care for others unselfishly and they throw themselves entirely into this weekend,” says DeLuca. Daughter Magyn stands close to her mother, intently listening along with her fellow students.

“I’ve watched you kids dance, cheer and cry on an annual basis and you have changed me, every year. Profoundly, with your Bulldogishness. Profoundly,” continues DeLuca.

As a recipient, this year’s dance means something different to DeLuca, who found herself in the unfamiliar position of having to ask for help.

“This year you are loving me. And I am overwhelmed with gratitude and I am humbled by your love.”

DeLuca told the students that their selflessness at the dance would help them through their own challenges.

“I am forever changed, strengthened and grateful to you sharing your strength with me when I am weak. Listen carefully to what I’m about to say to you. I want you to remember that strength and determination when you are confronted with difficult things that you didn’t see coming, things that you would never choose, things you don’t think you can get through.” She pauses and looks up from her piece of paper, smiling at the students.

You’re dancing Bulldogs, for the love of God.”

The students cheer and applaud her, and Magyn beams from the front of the room.

“Even if we’re not close…all of you, we’re close now,” she says before thanking her fellow dancers.

After DeLuca, there is one more recipient left to speak.

Mary Lieberman, who was paralyzed in 2012, tells the students how difficult it has been to endure the changes in her life, especially for her family.

“Right now, I have 800-plus new friends that I love so dearly.”

The students, many of them tearful, know that this is what it all comes down to. Now that the recipients have spoken, there is only one thing left to do. It is time to read the total amount raised at this years dance.

Looking around, everyone is anxious. There is a low murmur throughout the crowd. Students and spectators alike are holding hands, moving restlessly in their seats. This is the moment that everyone has been waiting for; the moment that everyone has been speculating about since last year’s dance. Are they going to beat the total? How much will they beat it by?

Advisers Jody Sheldon, Dan Albert, and Tom Myott hold a rolled up piece of paper, the total written on one side. “Are you ready to read the total?” they ask.    The chairpersons all huddle next to each other, arms across each other’s backs. They have pulled up a special needs student, Neil, to read the total with them. The recipients, the sole reason for this dance, wait patiently behind them. A few are up on their tiptoes, reaching their necks to catch a glimpse of a life-changing moment. The low murmur from before has suddenly become utter silence. Surely everybody in the room is holding their breath.

It seems like a full minute before they unfurl the banner, revealing the total. In unison, tears streaming down their faces, the chair people all cry out:

“$583 thousand, fifteen dollars and forty four cents!”

Before the five in $583 thousand can leave their mouths, the dancers are jumping up from the floor, immediately embracing each other. Tears stain their already sweat stained T-shirts, smiles shining brightly from the floor of the gym. Confetti and streamers explode from the ceiling, and the DJ is hardly heard over the cheering and screaming from the crowd. Those watching from the bleachers hug the people around them, people who were strangers quickly become friends right in front of their very own eyes. “We Are the Champions” by Queen begins to play, and the students linger on the dance floor, saying goodbyes, exchanging hugs and I love you’s. There is electricity in the air that seems to be surging through everybody in the gymnasium, following them out the door and to their cars.

Many say: “I can’t believe it,” while others have already begun to speculate about next year. There is not one frown in the sea of people filing out of the doors, only smiles on their tear-stained faces as they leave this life-changing event. The dancers, the spectators, and especially the recipients, will no doubt remember this night for the rest of their lives. As the dance continues to grow, it will only get better. More beneficiaries will be helped, and the students at South Glens Falls Senior High School will continue to perpetuate their love and selflessness for their community.

To donate to the South High Marathon Dance visit http://www.shmd.org