Truckin' on the Western Branch

I came home in 1980 to work at the Tidewater Dinner Theater. Michele and I went to New York City in 1982 and formed a trio called 3 P.M. We wrote our own music and performed in clubs in the city and on the island and back here with Seawall and Harborfest gigs.

Eric Newman

Roc Solid Foundation Eric Newman was just three years old when Dr. Harry Cox found a problem in an annual physical. Eric was diagnosed with a rare type of liver cancer, his condition so severe, hospice was on standby. Fortunately, he went into remission after two years of chemotherapy and radiation. He grew up in Green Meadow Point and Drum Point and shared a bond with his younger cousin, Shannon Zollars, who also lived in Western Branch. She had been diagnosed with leukemia when she was three years old and went into remission two years later.

He was in college when Shannon relapsed. She died just before her 17th birthday. He was devastated and did not handle it well.

Eric Newman. Image by Sheally

I worked hard, but I played hard and partied hard. I had started a Class A construction company, but I overextended and went bankrupt. I lost my identity in the loss of the company, lost my girlfriend of 11 years, and my dog died. I was at rock bottom. I fled. I took my surfboard, put a Bible and a journal in my backpack, and went to Costa Rica. Mom finally convinced me to come back. In 2008 a buddy needed help assembling a playground for his little girl. It took me 13½ hours, but it was all worth it when I saw the thrill on her face. And that started me thinking. I heard about a little girl who was sick in Hodges Ferry. I called the mother and said we wanted to give her the gift of a playground at no cost to Mom. “People don’t do things for nothing,” the mother said, but I convinced her. We picked a date to build, but I had no money, so I sold $3,000 worth of Krispy Kreme donuts. I corralled some friends to help—you can do a lot over a beer. Then I looked up what a board of directors does and started asking friends to be part of it all. We met at Mario’s, and my friends thought I was crazy. The economy was really bad, but we drew up a business plan on the back of a napkin, drafted a set of bylaws. We started a 501c3 funded by a corn hole tournament. I was working at a Christmas tree lot when Candy Tineo gave me $2,500 and said she believed in me. Since then others have sponsored playgrounds and, for the older kids, bedroom remodels. We’ve built more than 100 playgrounds so far.

For five years my wife (my old girlfriend) and I scrimped to make it work; then late in 2013 my job as head of the foundation became full time. Now Roc Solid also helps with utility bills, funeral expenses, and offers a Roc Solid bag for parents of hospitalized children, a necessity bag with rolls of quarters, a cell phone charger, blanket, hair ties, a pillow, and more.

Our funding is 10% grants, 30% corporate, 60% individual. We sell builds as team-building experiences for $4,000. We’ve built in Tennessee, North Carolina, Connecticut, as well as Virginia, and 10 hospitals use the program.

But this is not Eric Newman’s story—this is the kids’ stories.

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