How a Singer Found His Voice During Cancer

Simon Davies: I’m going to hit you with this one right away, Harry. You were 20 when you were diagnosed. What is it like to face your own mortality at that age?

Harry Hudson: I think it was the biggest blessing and the biggest curse. You’re 20. All my friends were going to college or were already in college, and I was working on music at the time. I got my first record deal the same day I was diagnosed.

It was crazy. I went from the greatest emotion I’d ever felt, the happiest I’d ever been, to the saddest and most confused I’d ever been, all in one day. It really rocked my world.

Getting diagnosed was especially scary because my biggest fear in life was death. It’s the unknown, and no one knows what happens. Even as a kid, I was so afraid. My mom would take me to priests, rabbis, therapists, everybody, because at 10 years old I would say, “I’m afraid I’m dying.”

I think the unknown is scary. Once I finally embraced the unknown and became okay with the idea of dying, I looked back at my life at the time and thought, “I’m 20. I guess I’ve lived enough life to go.” You don’t know what else is happening. You just embrace what’s going on.

That changed my life and made me less afraid of the idea of death.

Simon Davies: How does a brother deal with that? What was it like for you?

Remington Rhodes: You’re in shock. There’s no way to explain it.

You see him going through it, and you just have to be present. You have to be emotionally available and physically available. You try to lead with positive energy and optimism.

That was the only approach I could take because anything other than that kind of love was fear, and there was no time or space for fear. What he was going through was phenomenal, in a sense. It changes your whole world.

Simon Davies: Absolutely. We’ve talked before about how important it is to maintain a sense of personal control. That doesn’t always match what other people are telling you that you should do. For a young person in that situation, what did that mean?

Harry Hudson: I was 20, so I had just passed the pediatric mark. Pediatric patients are considered zero to 19. I was doing chemotherapy with 80-year-olds, and they became my mentors and best friends.

During my first chemotherapy treatment, there was a woman sitting next to me named Bonnie. She was awesome. She had pink hair, purple wigs in her bag and was smoking some weird weed pen or something. I thought, “This woman is awesome.”

She grabbed my hand and said, “This is going to suck. This is going to be terrible. But just know that cancer doesn’t define you. It’s not who you are. It’s only part of your life right now.”

Then she asked, “What do you love to do?”

I said, “I like to make music.”

The first thing she asked was, “Would you die for music?”

I said, “What does that mean? I’m dying now. I’m really confused, Bonnie. What are you talking about?”

But I thought about it. Music was the only thing I was thinking about all day, every day. So I said, “Yeah, I guess I would die for music.”

She grabbed my hand again and said, “No matter how sick you are, how tired you are or how much pain you’re in, always make music part of your day before cancer. Treat it like a nine-to-five. Show up like it’s school. Music, then cancer.”

Then she asked, “Do you like your friends and family?”

I said, “I love my friends and family.”

She said, “Music. Friends and family. Cancer.”

I thought, “Okay, cancer doesn’t seem like such a big deal right now. I’ll put it on the back burner and show up when I need to.”

That changed my life. I put music first in my days and made it a priority. I was constantly in the studio working on new music, and then I would go to chemotherapy.

I got invited to a concert, and my doctor said, “You better not go to that concert.”

I thought, “Obviously, I’m going to the concert.”

Then I’d end up back in the ICU for three weeks because my white blood cell count was down. My brother would get so annoyed because every time we were getting close to being better, I’d mess it up.

But for me, it was about living. I didn’t know whether I would get tomorrow, so I thought, “If I’m going to live now, I’m going to go all out.”

Simon Davies: The essence of that is being prepared to take risks in life. Those choices have to be honored.

You’ve both talked about friends who peeled away, who couldn’t come see you or seemed to desert you, while others were always there. How did people react, and how do you feel about that now?

Harry Hudson: At the time, I was thinking, “Why aren’t all my friends pulling up to chemo? Why aren’t they here?”

There were a few friends who were there. As I got older, I realized the others just didn’t know how to be there and watch their best friend die. I understand that now. I wouldn’t necessarily know how to be there either.

When you don’t know how to be there, you may not want to see it.

Remington saw it from a different perspective because he was my primary caregiver. He took me to chemotherapy and was present for all of it.

Simon Davies: How was that for you?

Remington Rhodes: You try not to be resentful or project any of that because there isn’t time for that energy or those emotions.

For the people who do show up, you feel gratitude. You appreciate them so much more. You keep inviting them back and creating space for them.

So many of Harry’s friends came to chemotherapy that they had to put us in private rooms. We tried to make it comfortable. At the house, people would be in the living room and the bedrooms. There would be a ton of us there. Whether Harry participated or not, everyone was there for him.

Harry Hudson: That was important. When I was first diagnosed, my friends who were there said, “Let’s all come together.”

I would sleep most of the day, but everyone would have dinner at my house. They would come into my room and say, “Harry, we’re here. Just know that we’re here.”

That was very comforting.

Simon Davies: You made it through cancer, but you met people during your treatment who didn’t. What does that feel like as a survivor, looking back on it?

Harry Hudson: It was very tough. During treatment, everyone I got close to was unfortunately passing away. That was affecting my mental health, which was one of the reasons we moved into a private room.

Eventually, you find some comfort in knowing that they are no longer in pain.

The world is a wild place. When you get that close to death, you can experience your own sense of comfort and become okay with leaving.

Grief is often hardest for the people who remain. The person who dies may be in a completely different light, with no pain and no worries.

But it’s tough. I don’t really have an answer for it.

Simon Davies: We recently held a session with some young people through End Well. Some of them felt guilty about surviving.

Harry Hudson: Survivor’s guilt is real. You ask yourself, “Why do I get this life?”

Then there’s this underlying feeling that you need to create something or give hope back. You feel like you’ve received a second life and have to give back to people in your position.

That pressure was part of why we built the center and did the things we’ve done.

Simon Davies: Behind every great person, and I do consider you a great person, Harry, is another great person. I consider you another great person, Remington.

How did you approach supporting Harry during that time? What was it like when so much was outside your control?

Remington Rhodes: My main goal was simply to be available whenever he needed me, whether physically, emotionally or spiritually. Whatever he needed at that moment, I wanted to give him access to it.

In your own life, you compartmentalize. You put yourself on the back burner and think of yourself second.

There’s also a lot of guilt. You think, “Why him? Why not me? Why can’t I be the one going through this?” If I did anything for myself, I felt guilty.

You have to work through those emotions. I didn’t have the tools to do that during his treatment, but later in life I was able to sort through them and find peace.

At the time, you use whatever tools you have. You try your best. That’s what I did.

Simon Davies: From a professional perspective, did anyone try to help you with that? The medical and psychological focus was understandably on Harry. Did you feel outside of it?

Remington Rhodes: You do feel outside of it. There isn’t really anyone to talk to.

During treatments, when Harry was sleeping or out of it, I would talk with the specialists and nurses. They had a good grasp of how to deal with it and helped me work through some of the emotions.

But I didn’t go to a support group or have access to anyone outside our immediate situation who could help me cope.

Simon Davies: You were young too. The people closest to someone with cancer are often the ones providing the most support, and they are suffering as well.

Remington Rhodes: Definitely. I was 24 at the time. Looking back, I was still a young kid, but at the time I felt ready for anything and wanted to take it on headfirst.

Having systems in place that allow caregivers to heal in a healthy way is really important.

Simon Davies: Let’s move on to your music. For anyone who hasn’t heard Harry’s music, he is a beautiful singer-songwriter.

What role did songwriting and music play in your journey? How did they help you?

Harry Hudson: It was the biggest thing. It gave me hope and something to work toward.

Halfway through treatment, it started to look like I might be cured and make it through, but I still had about a year to go.

Through every chemotherapy treatment, radiation session and part of the process, I kept writing things in my notes. I had a vision and was trying to create an album and a concept.

It gave me hope through the whole process. I don’t even remember going through chemotherapy. I remember making the album I was working on.

It was incredibly important to have a passion and something to fight for.

My doctor came in one day and said, “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to help a lot of people with your music. You’re going to travel the world, share your story and connect with people.”

At the time, I said, “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” But I was also thinking, “How do I even do that?”

It was important to have that inspiration and someone who believed in me, pushed me and made me realize that I could do it.

Nine years later, I’ve seen the world. I’ve toured the world and performed for a lot of people. I’ve been able to live a dream I never thought would be possible.

Simon Davies: Do you think cancer gave you creativity that you might not have had otherwise?

Harry Hudson: Absolutely. I often tell kids and other people going through treatment, “As unfortunate as this is, you’ve kind of hit the jackpot of life situations.”

It can accelerate you toward becoming who you want to be. That was my experience.

Cancer saved my life by helping me realize who I am. I was never confident. I was always insecure. I didn’t know how to love myself or how to be there for other people because I was still a teenager growing up.

Then, at 20, I was thrown into conversations with my parents about what it would mean if I didn’t wake up the next morning. I grew up really quickly.

That saved my life. It helped me become the person I had always envisioned becoming. I think that’s awesome.

Simon Davies: You’re nodding, Remington. Did you witness that transformation?

Remington Rhodes: Absolutely. The person Harry was before treatment and the person he became afterward are completely different.

The way he approaches life is so intentional. Even as a songwriter, his songs changed. He was no longer chasing a hit song. He wanted to help people heal and offer words and hope to people who might not have them.

He did an amazing job capturing the emotions he experienced during treatment and turning them into something other people could connect with.

You don’t have to be going through cancer treatment to feel those highs and lows. He translated what he wrote in those journals into the songs he created.

Simon Davies: Is there anything you grieve or miss that you feel cancer took away from you?

Remington Rhodes: Honestly, no. I think it gave us more than it took away.

The people who show up during hard times reveal themselves. Cancer cut the fat out of life and showed us what was truly meaningful and what actually mattered.

I feel like we’ve gained from it.

Harry Hudson: It led us here. Look at us.

Simon Davies: Was faith or spirituality important during that journey?

Harry Hudson: For me, yes. I looked for it anywhere I could find it. I was asking everyone, “Give me something.”

I was being treated at Saint John’s, near the Self-Realization Fellowship on Sunset by Pacific Coast Highway. Before chemotherapy, I would go to its meditation garden. I would walk around the lake, sit there and journal.

That was where I found a lot of healing and peace. It felt like I was separated from the world in that one small place.

Remington Rhodes: When you’re in a situation where you have no control, you give it up to a higher power and hope that something larger is at play and guiding it.

That was the approach I took. The things I couldn’t control, I left to the powers that be.

Simon Davies: Let’s talk about what you’ve done since. You started a nonprofit called Hey, I’m Here For You. Tell us what it’s about.

Harry Hudson: The simplest way to put it is that I wanted to become the person I wished I had when I was first going through treatment.

Bonnie was amazing. She helped me realize that I should fight for my passion and allow that passion to lead me through treatment.

I wanted to do that for younger adults.

Pediatric care typically covers ages zero to 19, but teenagers and young adults are often overlooked. I wanted to create a program and a charity that focuses on the individual, gives them passion and hope and helps them find their music, as I like to say.

Through passion, you find purpose. Giving a young person the opportunity to discover a passion can help them become a superhero.

Simon Davies: I know it is also important to you to be there for young people who know they may not survive. They still need that sense of passion.

Harry Hudson: Totally. It is incredibly important to feel seen and heard.

Together, we built a cancer facility at Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt. That was a dream we accomplished together.

I brought one of my friends, Jaden Smith, to meet a young patient who really looked up to him. I surprised the kid with Jaden. We didn’t know he was terminal, and his mom hadn’t told us anything.

They formed a friendship. I introduced them, then walked away and let them talk.

The next week, Jaden and I were at dinner, and he kept texting someone. He said, “It’s that kid you introduced me to at the hospital.”

I asked, “What?”

They had been playing Fortnite together and had become friends. I thought it was really cool. That’s the kind of person Jaden is. He didn’t tell anybody. He was just doing it.

Two weeks later, the boy’s mother called me and said that he had died.

She said, “I just want to tell you that Jaden made the last week of his life the best week of his life. He couldn’t stop talking about him, smiling or playing the game.”

That is the simplest version of what we are trying to do. We want to make someone feel seen. We want to show them that they can be anything and that there is hope.

Even when someone only has a few days or weeks, we can do something special. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. It can be something simple that makes them feel loved.

Simon Davies: Teen Cancer America develops hospital programs for adolescents and young adults who, like you, may be 20 and surrounded by much older patients, or 18 or 19 and placed with small children. They often struggle to find their place.

We have a plan to partner. Harry likes to say that Teen Cancer America does the heavy lifting, and then you come in at the end with all the fun things.

Remington Rhodes: We’re the fun uncle, the “funcle.”

When we approach charities and nonprofits, Harry’s first question is always, “Can you introduce me to the kids?”

You’d be surprised how many organizations cannot do that. They don’t have direct access to teenagers, or there are layers between them.

We asked Simon and Teen Cancer America, “Can you introduce us to the kids?”

They said, “Easy. We’ll walk you in tomorrow.”

That meant a lot to us.

Everywhere Harry travels, whether Atlanta, New York, Tennessee or somewhere else, we call Simon and ask whether we can meet the young people. Teen Cancer America has been able to make that happen immediately.

That holds a lot of value for us because our work is about the patient experience and helping young people meet their human potential.

How do we meet these young people where they are?

Teen Cancer America does an amazing job with the larger work it is doing. We want to be a program that attaches to that work and adds value.

Introduce us to the young people. Then we can learn what their passions are. If they haven’t explored those passions or found an avenue for them, we can provide resources and a network.

We want their time during treatment and beyond to be meaningful. We want them to have an amazing experience during something that is not amazing.

Simon Davies: I want to reflect on another important person in the room. You both lost your dad at a young age. After everything you had already experienced, that must have been very difficult.

You also gained a lot of strength from him. How has that shaped you?

Harry Hudson: He was a wild guy. I can only say the best things about him because he changed our lives.

He raised us to be close and raised us to become the men we are. All we can do is carry forward what he gave us, which was a lot of love.

I’m blessed that I had that.

He loved me enough to help make me crazy enough to build this thing in Nashville with Simon.

For some reason, his dream was to live in Nashville. He was always pushing it on me. He’d say, “Harry, you’re going to live in Nashville.”

I’d say, “Why? We don’t know anyone there. You don’t even go there. What are you talking about?”

After he died, everything came full circle. Simon reached out about helping build this cancer center in Nashville.

I said, “Of course. Okay, that makes sense.”

Now I live in Nashville. My dad had a pretty incredible impact on me, and the cancer center is up and running there.

I feel blessed.

Remington Rhodes: He was a major source of support in everything we did.

There was no idea too big or too unachievable. He never said, “You can’t do that.” It was always, “Okay, let’s do it. Let’s find a way. I know someone who can help.”

Because of him, we felt that anything we imagined could be achieved.

Before Harry even had his first chemotherapy treatment, he said, “I want to open a hospital.”

I said, “Okay, let’s get through treatment first and see how things go.”

He said, “No, no. That’s what I’m doing.”

All these years later, we were able to do it with you.

Simon Davies: My money is on him doing it, for sure