By Theodora Aggeles, Times Correspondent
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Cancer survivor and Bill Clinton impersonator Eddie Tyson builds a birdhouse in the garage of his home in Dunedin.
DUNEDIN — For 14 years, Eddie Tyson has attended extravagant parties, performed at charity functions and charmed audiences at corporate events doing impersonations of former President Bill Clinton.
Yet Tyson never knew real happiness until he almost died.
"God had been tapping me on the shoulder for years to get my attention," said Tyson, 59. "I'd nod, go back to what I was doing. I drank it, raced it, chased it and thought I was bulletproof.
"Then God patted me on the rear, gave me a tumor and made me realize I was in a life or death situation."
In May of 2009, Tyson was diagnosed with stage III colorectal cancer. He moved from Winter Garden near Orlando to Tampa for treatment at H. Lee Moffitt Cancer Center, receiving 35 rounds of radiation and five weeks of chemotherapy.
"I consider myself blessed to have cancer," Tyson said. "I'd lost my brother Jerry at 38 to a brain tumor. After that, I did everything twice. Once for me. Once for him, which included drinking.
"I lost the love of my life because I became an alcoholic. I couldn't return to that life."
The transformed Tyson, who has been in remission since early this year, moved to Dunedin in March, at least in part because it's like Key West.
"It's the best-kept secret around," he said. "I can ride my bike to get groceries. I like the feel of the town ."
He still entertains. He still has agents in New York and the United Kingdom.
The demand for a Clinton impersonator has tapered off somewhat in recent years, but Tyson still manages to stay busy.
He said he's never met Clinton but would like to.
• • •
Tyson's performances are different these days. His Clinton impersonations get him in the door and he still charms audiences.
He makes them laugh, but then he brings up cancer.
He tells his story.
He often invites people to tell theirs.
His quest is to encourage cancer checkups. Help others who might be ignoring symptoms. Maybe save a life.
"People say, 'You don't look like you have cancer,' " Tyson said. "What am I supposed to look like? When I started having symptoms, I knew something was wrong, but stayed in denial for nine months, which almost killed me.
"I remember the treatments and depression, the lonely days. .?. . Those experiences led me to re-define my priorities and friends. I've gone from the White House to the birdhouse."
• • •
Tyson started building birdhouses and said it's therapeutic, helping to take his mind off his problems.
His birdhouses are works of art and Tyson even gives away small ones to people struggling with a cancer diagnosis. His larger houses are for sale, for rent and in waiting for corporate sponsorship.
Tyson wants everyone fighting cancer to experience the hope he felt watching a cardinal alight on a birdhouse hanging outside his window. His plan is to create a nationwide network of volunteers building and delivering birdhouses to cancer patients. He likens the approach to Christine Fabiani Shively's Knots of Love, which donates knitted or crocheted caps to chemotherapy patients. (For information, visit www.knotsoflove.org)
"It fascinates me that in a sea of cancer awareness media and efforts that something so beautiful and purposeful can emerge," said Robin Wening, 64, a Palm Harbor artist who met Tyson two months ago.
Marsha Goins, owner of the Enchanted Branch Gift Gallery on Main Street in Dunedin, sells Tyson's larger birdhouses.
She calls him Bill.
"Why wouldn't I?" Goins said. "He's such a good character and fits perfectly in Dunedin. His birdhouses are in the front window. They draw a lot of attention, add humor to the shop, and we like that they're made locally from recycled material."
Some of Tyson's birdhouses are ornate. Some have humorous themes. All have a laminated tags attached.
One side is his "presidential" business card, the other lists information about Tyson's volunteer activities at fundraisers and charity events as an auctioneer or emcee.
• • •
Talk to Tyson and he will liken cancer survivors' lives to a cardinal, the bird he says will ferociously defend its territory and fight attackers. He says cancer survivors need to keep that desire for life during recovery.
"The cardinal reminds us of passion, warmth and vibrancy available to us even under the cloak of life's gray clouds," Tyson said. "I enjoy life now. I find peace making my birdhouses and I try my best to always see the shiny side of the coin."
He leans forward in his chair as if he is going to share a secret, but grins wide.
"I was alone through treatments and recovery except for my dog Logan and cat Gracie's unconditional love. If I could find a woman who loved me like that, I'd marry her at noon today."