Read blog on Vincent Herbert

It was the day before the 4th of July, and I had just spent most of my day visiting my aunt. She had recently returned home after spending three months in occupational rehab recovering from a stroke. As I walked out of her building, my phone rang with a 310 area code. I almost didn’t answer because I didn't recognize the number, but something inside nudged me to pick up.

When I answered, a calm but serious voice asked, "What kind of questions do you want to ask me?"

Startled, I blurted out, "Who is this?"

The voice on the other end laughed and said, "It’s Vince. Vincent Herbert. I understand you want to interview me."

Excitedly, I yelled, "Yes, I do! Unfortunately, I don't have my questions with me right now." I explained that I had just left my aunt’s place and mentioned her recovery from her stroke. Vince immediately asked how she was doing. I got a bit emotional explaining the situation, but Vince listened closely. He shared that he had gone through the exact same thing a few years ago and couldn't do anything on his own back then. He told me that God, prayer, and the love of his family got him through it, and he promised to keep my aunt in his prayers.

It was such a genuine conversation with an incredibly grounded guy. He was completely engaged and never rushed me off the phone. I left that call with a whole new level of respect for him.

Before we hung up, I told him that one of his old-school tracks is still heavy in my music rotation. When I mentioned "Reachin" by Phase II, he was shocked because not many people know he was part of that group. He shared that he wrote "Reachin" in his basement right after his mother passed away—creating such a positive message out of an overwhelming loss.

Meeting her challenge with faith and resilience, I’m taking his advice to heart. In the words of Vincent Herbert, I’m going to keep on reaching.