The American Cancer Society Relay for Life fundraiser event is this weekend.

For years, my family has worked at this, by far the biggest fundraiser for the American Cancer Society for the year.

My mother and Darlene Tye, longtime friend and cancer survivor (three times, resulting in the loss of one lung), work the “Survivor’s Tent” where my son, Zane, has arranged chairs, handed out T-shirts, teddy bears and other goodies for years. Now, my sister oversees 23 of these monster fundraiser events, including this one.

At first, I thought it was strange, awkward and something that people do who have gone through an experience (cancer) that I didn’t want to hear about or think about, let alone experience first-hand in the flesh. I wouldn’t show to the event because, well, you know. I was like those brainless denial-based buffoons that were made fun of in the movie “Steel Magnolias,” who, while getting ready for a tragic funeral, played with hair gel and asked, while straightening it, “Does this tie go?”

Since then, I’ve changed. I had an operation, took out the bad mojo, and now, several years in a row, I attend, help, move things around, hand things out, do what I’m told and, to my absolute shock the first year, become mesmerized by what so many people have gone/are going through. You will be doing your family a favor if you go.

And we, as a youth sports organization, the Napa Night Hawks (Pop Warner football and cheer), are going to participate as well.

There is a large, professional stage set-up where entertainment goes on all day (including karaoke, where my uncle sings— loudly — Elvis songs). People walk around the track to raise money and to remember and to show respect and to, in some cases, get exercise. Tents and tables and chairs and lanterns are setup by teams. When not walking (which occurs sporadically, when one feels inclined), people talk, play catch with a ball or a Frisbee (or whatever they can throw), laugh, BBQ and just hang out. Lots of people stay overnight in their tents after sitting around the “camp” on the football field. And people walk throughout the night.

At night...

At night there is a ceremony that is both dazzling and daunting. It’s called the “Luminaria.” Thousands of lights are set up around the track, each inside a container that, on the outside, has the name of a cancer victim, survivor or otherwise. You won’t believe all the names that, set up around the track, circling it, are at least three to four rows deep, around the circumference of the track and field. On the north side, hundreds are set up, making large, massive lighted letters that, should one fly over in a plane, spell something inspirational. On the south side of the field, music plays alongside a side show, one that is cumulative, always growing, seemingly, with the pictures of those lost. It is stunning and breathtaking not just how much impact the numbers have, but also to observe the reverence, pain and respect with which those affected, those who, when the picture they have been waiting for is displayed, react.

(Alessio is president of Napa Night Hawks. He lives in Napa.)