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  CHERYL MEETS OPRAH 11 TIMES!



In my book "What in The World Are You Doing" I share some of my meetings with Oprah Winfrey and what impact they made in my life. I am sharing part of the book with you. If you like this story, you will enjoy the other celebrity encounters in the book from Dr. Oz to Will Smith.

There Are No Coincidences

Sometimes you really can't listen to what anybody else says. You just gotta listen inside. You’re not supposed to end up in those mines. You know why? ‘Cause I think you made other plans. – Miss Riley, “October Sky”

Before my father’s condition had become grave, I’d walked into his hospital room to find him watching “The Oprah Winfrey Show.” Dad knew what a fan I was, and as we watched together, I recalled that Oprah’s staff had posted to her website that they were producing a show around the theme of dying wishes. At the time, none of us had any idea that my dad was truly dying, but he was enthusiastic about making a video from his hospital bed asking Oprah to send his daughter to a taping of her show. Looking back, making that video was a sign that Dad knew what was to come, but nobody understood it at the time. In the video, he smiled that famous smile of his and told Oprah why I needed to be at her show. At the end, I turned the camera on myself and said, “Oprah, when I come to your show, I want to interview you and my favorite actress, Julia Roberts.”

Of course, the realization that my father was indeed on his deathbed came quickly, and in our family’s grief and helplessness, I misplaced the tape.

After my father passed away, the next three months went by in a daze, and

all I remembered about the video was the fun we’d had making it. It was one of the last happy moments we’d shared — one I will treasure forever. I had completely forgotten that the tape had never been sent.

But my wish came true anyway. I got tickets to her show! I was going to see Oprah. For the first time in months, my grief over the loss of my father lifted, and I allowed myself to be excited. So before we left for Chicago, I came up with a little song to the tune of YMCA.

Oprah! I’m your number one fan, I said Oprah! Nobody else in the land, I said Oprah! Thanks for all that you do and we love you, love you, love you Stedman! Please say my name every day, and Gayle! Don’t let my name slip away My friends and family Wanted to be here with me but they’re watching me on their TV Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey!

It’s fun to be on O-P-R-A-H! It’s fun to be on O-P-R-A-H!

You get the idea. I was just so excited to be going, and the song was a way to express my happiness.

My girlfriend Erica and I headed to Chicago for the taping, and the

morning of the show, I was sitting in the middle of the bed in the hotel room just daydreaming. Erica looked at me thoughtfully and asked, “What are you thinking, Cheryl?”

I smiled a little sheepishly and replied, “You know, I was thinking I am like Oprah. I may not have millions of dollars or a TV show, but I’ve got a heart like hers. I can see myself having my own show, doing exactly what she’s doing.” Erica said she could see it, too. I was touched, just as I’m always touched when people believe in me. But I am even more touched when someone close to me believes. It is powerful to have a friend — someone who knows your worst flaws — appreciate you for who you truly are.

We were two of the first ones in line to enter Oprah’s studio that day, but the last ones to be seated. I just knew we were going to end up in the back of the studio audience because of it. That was disappointing to me because I had waited so long to get here, but fate stepped in once again. I got seated on the front row, corner seat, and right against the aisle where Oprah enters. Erica was seated in the row right behind me. We were so excited! We were screaming and yelling, making sure everyone knew just how happy we were to be there. As we waited for the show to begin, the stage crew indicated they were having technical difficulties and would get the show underway as quickly as possible. So the audience handler asked us, “While we wait, does anyone have a poem they could do or anything they want to say?”

Well hellooooo! I cried out, “I’ve got a song! I’ll sing it!” So I got up and began to sing my Oprah song. The audience loved it. Of course, the song only took a minute or so to sing, and they were still having technical issues. A few minutes later, the same gentleman came back out and said, “ We liked your song, Cheryl.” And suddenly, I heard the melody to YMCA bursting out of the speakers into the audience. Before I knew what was happening, I was pulled back up on stage and was belting out my song along with the background music. Of course, you can’t sing anything that sounds like YMCA without dancing as well — and nobody loves to dance like I do! It was a blast. I entertained the audience while the crew tried to work out their malfunctions.

After I had gone back to my seat, the handler asked the audience, “How many of you like Cheryl?” The audience members clapped and cheered enthusiastically. He asked me where I was from, and I proudly replied that I was Texas born and bred. He said, “Okay, Cheryl, we’re going to warm up this crowd.” And he looked at the audience and said, “What we want you to do is pretend that Cheryl is Oprah. Cheryl, come on back up here.” I was in my element! I stepped up on stage across from where he was standing, and he said, “Cheryl, pretend you’re Oprah.” And I said, “Well then, you’re in the wrong place. Oprah stands over there. And her guests are over here.” He just laughed and said, “Oh, no. What I want you to do is go out those double doors and come back in like you’re Oprah making her entrance. Audience, when she comes back in, we want you to scream and yell as if she’s Oprah.” I started sniffling right then and there, and the audience coordinator said, “Oprah doesn’t cry!”

And I looked at him and said, “Well, I’m not really Oprah.” But I was going to give it a shot.

I marched down that aisle and I walked out the double doors. Then, I turned around and faced the doors, took a deep breath, and exploded through them down the “I love you” tunnel. It’s the aisle Oprah walks down as she enters the show, and everyone’s screaming and yelling, “I love you!” And they were doing the same for me at that moment. One woman jumped out into the middle of the aisle and gave me this great big bear hug, just like my father used to.

The audience was still yelling and screaming at me as I marched up to the stage, waving to everyone as I sat down. And then I jumped right back up again realizing I was sitting where the guests sit. If I was Oprah, I had to sit in Oprah’s seat! For that moment, I really was Oprah. The audience members laughed and cheered, and then it was time for the real Oprah to come to the stage. So I headed back to my seat along the aisle to wait for the real talk show queen to come out. As Oprah entered the studio, and everyone yelled and screamed, she got to the stage and said, “Wow! What is going on out here? What happened?” Everyone just yelled, “It’s Cheryl!” as they pointed at me. Oprah looked at me and said, “What happened?” I replied, “It’s not me, it’s you! They’re excited to see you.” Oprah proceeded to tell us what a great show she had for us that day. “I’m here ... and Julia Roberts is here!”

I almost fell over from shock. All at once the realization slapped me in the face and I knew my father had a hand in this moment. I had said on that videotape in his hospital room that I wanted to interview Oprah and my favorite actress, Julia Roberts. At that instant I realized they must have gotten my dad’s dying wish tape, and I was going to interview Oprah and Julia Roberts. I could hardly pay attention during the show because I knew I wasn’t prepared for these interviews. I had to think of what I was going to ask, and the butterflies kept racing in my stomach the whole time.

We went through the hour of the show and Julia Roberts left the stage. The coordinator told Oprah, “We have to bring Cheryl up. She has a song for you.” So they brought me up and I sang my song once again as I watched Oprah dance along with my song. Then Oprah excused herself and left the stage. I looked at the coordinator and asked him, “Is she coming back?” He clearly didn’t understand what I meant. So I asked him again, “Is she coming back?”

He answered, “What do you mean is she coming back?”

I said, “My dad’s dying wish. My wildest dream to interview Oprah and Julia Roberts. You got the tape. Is she coming back?”

He said, “I’m sorry, we didn’t get a tape.”

They didn’t get the tape? Then how was I there on the day Julia Roberts had given her only interview while pregnant with her twins? Suddenly, I remembered: in the

trauma of my dad’s illness and death, I had misplaced the tape. It had never even been sent. This was just a moment in time, a coincidence.

But, like Oprah says, nothing happens by coincidence, and what had happened that day was no coincidence. I was wearing my father’s praying hands, given to me when he passed away, and I looked down at them and silently thanked my dad for a great time. I only wished he could have been there to hear this crazy story in person.