Michaela Compton Music

 My Story

Growing up in Las Vegas, NV makes for an interesting story, in and of itself. I’ve enjoyed seasons of sky-scraping inner joy as well as weathering seasons of heart-crushing blows to my self-esteem, my soul, and my sanity.

Music played a big role in getting me through those years.  While in junior high I fell in love with singing and playing piano. This love eventually lead me to performing in casino lounges and churches as a teenager. However, I often day-dreamed about living in a small town where everyone knew everyone, where families stayed together and were supportive of one another. My husband, David, had the same small-town dreams as well.  After we married, we left the heavily populated city of Las Vegas and settled into a quiet neighborhood in Tupelo, Mississippi. David continued his career with banking software at BancorpSouth. Several years later we had two fun-loving baby boys, Matthew and Gabriel, and a daughter on the way. Being the only girl in my generation, I was excited to be having the only girl in the next generation.    

After twelve years of marriage, David became interested in playing guitar in the church music scene I belonged to. We quickly found ourselves in the middle of our newfound music ministry, “DevotionSong”. While filling the calendar with gig dates we were simultaneously remodeling our home with the addition of a 900 sq ft music room AND preparing for our third child.  

A child is born. Not the child I had prepared for. Not the daughter to achieve academic scholarships and speak elloquently. Not the daughter to someday marry and give birth to her own children. Instead, an amazingly beautiful, heavenly and perfect baby girl, unexpectedly diagnosed with Down Syndrome and a failing heart.

I found myself sitting on my bed in our master bedroom holding my brand new baby girl, Bethany, hiding from the construction mess that had overtaken the rest of the house, when the phone call came in. It was women’s hospital confirming Bethany’s diagnosis of Down syndrome and an AVSD heart defect. Without immediate open-heart surgery, my daughter wouldn’t survive. Surgery that only has a 50% success rate. How does a person digest this information? I was overwhelmed with a wide range of emotions; Fear, joy, heartbreak…Am I happy? Am I sad? The one thing I knew for sure, I was scared and uncertain of how to care for this child. As quickly as the negative feelings came with her diagnosis, feelings of acceptance entered the picture. My love for her was/is unconditional. However, fear was still in the driver’s seat.

Trying to hang on to any sense of ‘normal’ we pushed through the house remodeling project and agreed to provide music for a church revival. The pastor at Liberty UMC had been delaying the event for months waiting on the birth of our daughter. Now that she was here, he set a date, May 27. We agreed and started working on the set list. The house remodel was completed May 19. We could feel something good was on the horizon.  Little did we know, life would never be the same again.

As Sunday May 20th approached, our home church canceled our set. In light of being canceled, we decided to visit Liberty UMC. This would allow us a chance to check out the building, and see first-hand what type of sound equipment we would be working with for the upcoming revival. We loaded all three kids (Matthew-5, Gabriel-3, Bethany-2 months) into the SUV and headed for Liberty UMC in Booneville, MS. For some odd reason, we were given directions that took us the long way on Highway 30. Highway 30 is a winding two-lane, heavily wooded road. The conversation with our two little boys consisted of them asking how they could help with the music. We were explaining to them what their role would be as our roadies. How they would be helping to carry in and set up equipment. It was a cheerful, exciting conversation.

As we drove and took yet another curve down the heavily wooded road, it was at that moment, life decided we would never be the same family ever again. A thousand pieces of blood-stained glass exploded into my face. As everything went in slow motion I felt my husband’s head rest softly on my shoulder. But I knew instantly, he was no longer alive. Having no idea what had hit us, I tried to force the gear shift into park but did not succeed. Our vehicle careened off the side of the road and into the woods. I was knocked unconscious as our SUV crashed into a cluster of large oak trees.  

From what I’ve been told there was a car traveling in the opposite direction who had hit a deer. The deer was propelled forward through the windshield of our vehicle breaking my husband’s neck. The animal was severed in half. One half of the deer traveled through our front windshield eventually landing in the back row of the SUV behind the children. The other half was laying in the road. The deer was pregnant. Her unborn fetus landed inside the our vehicle as well. My oldest son, Matthew, who was five years old at the time, tried to wake up my husband and I. When we didn’t respond, he climbed over the severed deer and her fetus in the back row and out the rear windshield of the SUV. Finding himself in a completely unfamiliar wooded area, he walked towards the road aimlessly looking for help all by himself.  

The pastor at Liberty UMC was unaware of our situation until the church service was over. No one was able to leave the church parking lot due to the increasing number of emergency vehicles blocking the road. It tuns out the accident occurred only a few hundred yards from the church. We were almost there. 

For the next several weeks all five of us were separated. We were taken to three separate hospitals in two states. I was taken by flight-for-life to NMMC in Tupelo. The first sound I remembered hearing, while in a brief state of consciousness, was the rotating sound of helicopter blades. I regained consciousness 2 days and several surgeries later. I woke to the sound of two people discussing how they were going to tell me that my husband didn’t survive. As I awoke, I said to them, “Just go ahead and say it. I already know David didn’t make it”. Looking down at my own body laying in the hospital bed, I saw that almost every body part was in a cast: Not counting my teeth, I broke nine bones. My right ankle was shattered. A massive metal contraption was attached to my right foot and leg holding the two together. I fractured 2 ribs, my right shoulder, left elbow and forearm, C5, C6, C7 vertebrae in my neck. Any one of the fractures in my neck could have paralyzed me. I couldn’t move anything except my left leg. Several surgeons came to speak to me about the different procedures I went through including a plastic surgeon. He was there to explain the large patch over the right side of my forehead and scalp and why my hair had been shaved. I had basically been scalped on the right side of my forehead, damaging the 7th cranial nerve down the right side of my face. No one would allow me to see myself in a mirror. I wasn’t able to get up and go to the bathroom, so the bathroom mirror was not an option.  

GOOD NEWS! (Sarcasm) If there could be any good news at this point, the children had only received minor physical injuries. A paramedic explained this to me, “The children were covered in blood. We didn’t know if it was their own blood or from the deer. After bathing them, it was discovered the boys had minor injuries”. My thought, “Minor physical injuries, that’s good. But, horrific memories and emotional scars!”

Realizing what had happened: I am now a widow. My children will grow up without their father. My husband will no longer have life experiences with his children. I am not only a single parent, I am the ONLY parent.  Our music ministry is over. 14 years of marriage, over. I have an additional $50k of debt for a music studio that my husband and I will never use together. Worst fact of all, he and I will never be sitting side-by-side, holding hands reflecting on a lifetime together. Total devastation! My body smashed up beyond belief. How long will it take to heal? How will I take care of my children? There’s absolutely no possible way I can handle this! I was convinced I would crumble. I would fail. I didn’t sign up for this situation. I didn’t agree with this being my life!  A new normal!?  What the hell is “a new normal”?  Those words were insulting to me. I had plans! WE had plans! As a matter of fact, what got us into this mess was the pursuit of creating music. Therefore, I decided NEVER to sing or play again. With that in mind, I sold most of our equipment. And the devil, the devil himself found me in the hospital room and followed me home. Jump! He would say, “Jump out the window. End your suffering and end your life. Just jump.” I would ask friends and visitors to read scripture out loud in my presence, in an attempt to shut the devil up.

When I finally did get to see my own face, I passed out. The facial scarring was hideous. Offensive to look at. The right side of my face was drooping, especially my eye. My hair, MY HAIR! was shaved back some. I looked like I had aged ten years overnight. I had to have assistance, eating, bathing, going to the bathroom.  Humiliating! A friend continued to wash deer blood from my hair for weeks after the accident. At some point I noticed three of my teeth were broken. I was convinced I would never look like myself again. Depression overload!!! Floods of silent tears raging through my mind. I was screaming on the inside! The thought of what my current reality was and will be for the foreseeable future, paralyzed me. I’d say I was going to the kitchen for a glass of water then freeze (physically and mentally freeze) half-way there. A movie of the accident would replay over and over in my head until someone else snapped me out of it.  Thoughts of suicide and arguments with the devil filled my every waking hour.  My soul felt tormented. At any given moment, I felt as if I was within an inch from taking my life. I also felt like the kids and I were within an inch of losing our lives. There’s a obvious difference between taking vs. losing your life. Every waking hour I felt like either was possible, at any given moment. The demon known as DEATH was very real and present.

Three months later I was still in a wheelchair trying to acclimate to using a walking boot and a cane. The excruciating pain of my shattered ankle, whether taking a step or laying still, took years off my life. Not wanting to get up from a chair to go to the bathroom because the first 10 steps were unbearable. Once at the bathroom door, I would grab hold of the counter and scoot myself over to the toilet. I asked the orthopedic surgeon when would the pain stop. His response was, “To be honest, I didn’t think you were ever going to be able to walk.” I thought, you mean to tell me there’s no end to this? I felt defeated at that moment. His words meant I HAD TO live with chronic pain and limping, indefinitely.

My mother flew in from California to help me with the boys during Bethany’s open-heart surgery. She was five months old when they operated on her little delicate heart at Lebonheur Children’s Hospital in Memphis.  I was in the parent-waiting-room with one other parent for hours. In order to keep myself from worrying myself into a public display of lunacy, I befriended the other parent. Come to find out, we both lived in the same town in Mississippi. His daughter was roughly the same age living with Down syndrome undergoing open-heart surgery as well. Bethany’s heart was 100% repaired with no further complications. My new friends’ daughter did not survive. I don’t know how I had any tears left inside of me, but somehow I did and I cried for them. Hearing their heartbreaking news, a fire was lit inside me. Realizing how close we came to having the same outcome, I found myself loving my child with even more intention and purpose.  

To give you an example, during the first two months of Bethany’s life, I nursed her. After the accident, she was bottle fed. I understand this is normal for some, but for me, I could feel the disconnect between my daughter and I. I wanted that intimate connection back. I insisted the doctor either stop all my prescriptions or change the medications to choices suitable for nursing. After the Rx’s were changed, I waited 72 hours then started nursing Bethany. Our mother-daughter connection came back! I could see it in her eyes!  

Six years, SIX YEARS went by living in survival mode. My life consisted of school, church and the grocery store. As long as the kids went to school, had food and clean clothes we were ok, I thought. We were surviving. The music room went unused all those years except for two brief attempts to use the room for another purpose. Those attempts failed. I could sense a dark, negative presence in the room. The feeling was so heavy I couldn’t stand to be in there for more than a few minutes at a time.

I was missing my old self. I was missing secular music and performing. What was I going to do from this point forward? Stay in the secluded world of survival mode or move forward? Sit still and forget the person I’m supposed to be or break out of ‘The Victim in Survival Mode”?

Then, I started to see a possible light at the end of the tunnel. A friend owned and managed UnityTV, a Christian television network. They were creating new programming and providing a platform for original music. I was curious. I wanted to re-enter the music industry but wasn’t sure how. I could feel it in my bones, the answer was in front of me. I met with them regarding their new television programs and my desire to reconnect. They suggested I produce and host a show interviewing songwriters. The show would air live. I could bring my own creative ideas on to the set and reconnect with the music world. So, I did! A few months later I found myself producing two television programs, operating cameras, sound equipment and performing live on television myself!  

After meeting songwriter after songwriter I realized I was living in the middle of a music industry triangle AND falling in love with the songwriter community.  From Tupelo to Nashville via Muscle Shoals, Nashville to Memphis, Memphis to Tupelo.  One huge triangular area full of songwriters. The television shows were going very well.  However, at this point I felt it more beneficial for the songwriter community as a whole, to have a platform where any genre could be interviewed and receive airtime. I wanted to champion experienced songwriters as well as new songwriters. After being introduced to the manager of MS Radio Group, a new 1-hour radio program was born, “Local Licks Songwriter Sessions”. 

In the midst of the switch from television to radio I was determined to make two improvements in my own life:  Learn to play guitar and make use of the music room.  I took my husband’s Taylor acoustic guitar off the wall and taught myself how to play it. I’ll admit, I was very intimidated at first. This was DAVID’S guitar. His hands were big. My hands are small. I began to write my own songs and perform outside of church. For the music room, I set up what I had left of our sound equipment. I purchased a soft red chenille sofa and loveseat (totally out of character for me) contrasting the earth-tone stone fireplace and view of the wooded back yard. Once I had the room how I wanted it, I felt a sense of rebirth! The dark cloud had lifted and good vibes moved in!   

During the first few radio show interviews at the radio station I noticed the songwriters and I both felt rushed and somewhat uncomfortable. With that in mind, I proposed moving the interviews to my home studio. The station trusted me with the idea. My goal was to create a more intimate setting, with a flexible schedule that would allow the songwriters to feel more at ease, with time to acclimate to their surroundings before sharing their personal songs and stories. With my music studio up and running I had a warm, inviting space that could be used for that purpose. Mission accomplished! Over 200 interviews were conducted and/or produced in my home studio. With each passing interview I felt a sense of confidence and purpose. Nearly every songwriter who played in that space, mentioned feeling relaxed, comfortable, at ease. All the while I hoped my husband could see our music room being put to good use!  

Soon, I found myself coordinating and producing live music events. Within two years, between television and radio shows, live events and performing myself, I was back in! Back in with both feet and a calendar full of music projects!  Literally,  I found myself again!

Having the experience of living side-by-side with my daughter has been THE BEST blessing I never knew I needed.  She has breathtaking, magical eyes. She has the most enviable quality of being able to see the good in EVERYTHING and treat everyone with a innocent manner most “normal” people grow out of and never regain. She has the same right to live, experience, and enjoy her life as much as anybody does. Every day of her life she displays a level of joy and contentment the rest of us only wish we had. She is absolutely the most beautiful child in all of the Heavens and Earth and ’The Best Thing I’ve Ever Done’ (also the title of the song I wrote for her).

My two sons, I couldn’t have managed being both Mom and Dad, without their help. They helped me by being my hands and feet when I couldn’t physically manage. They’ve been fantastic big brothers to Bethany. I can see a mixture of myself and David in them both. Watching them play, laugh, grow into young men, makes me feel glad that I am still alive! Glad to be their mother! I wrote a song for them as well, “And I love You”.

As for me, my 4-song debut EP, “Light Of The City” was released in 2018. Two songs written specifically for my children are on the EP, “And I Love You” and “The Best Thing I’ve Ever Done”. In 2018 I decided to sell everything and move back to the West Coast, near family and better resources for my children and myself. I still continue to produce music events and the radio show in North Mississippi. My radio show, Local Licks Songwriter Sessions, is the longest running radio show in Mississippi, exclusively dedicated to songwriters and original music. It has been on the air for over four years now with over 250 interviews in the catalogue. My music business, Michaela Compton Music, is thriving with continuing music projects in Mississippi and new music projects on the horizon in California. STAR Total Ankle Replacement surgery has allowed me to walk nearly pain free.

Never to be forgotten, many people from work, church and around town were very helpful and genuinely concerned. Many of them, I am still in touch with to this day.

Some chapters of “survival mode” are necessary. There’s no rule book or time frame for grieving. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you there is. I chose to break out of survival mode in search of making my life make sense. There’s no sense in living only to survive. No sense in not searching for the person you’re meant to be. It only makes sense to make your life worth living. That’s what I chose and choose to do. I feel like I have found the person I’m meant to be. I’m still figuring out some of the detail.  But, isn’t that what life is?  Details. Life is in the details!

Family Photos