Raleigh, North Carolina, October 3, 2009

I’ve been to over 30 U2 shows, but only once have I had the pleasure of being on stage. And I still didn’t get to meet them.

I was in North Carolina to help host the first-ever U2 Academic Conference and we had a full day of sessions and fun behind us. Because I had several shows lined up to go to on the tour, I actually refrained from requesting a ticket to the show that was happening in Raleigh that night. I figured I would take one for the team, stay in my hotel room and Tweet the setlist from tips my friends would send from their phones. Sure, I was disappointed, but I’ve been blessed to see so many shows, I didn’t feel entitled to get to that one too.

When my dear colleagues at the site I write for, @U2, found out that I didn’t have a ticket, they sprung into action and by the time we made it to the venue and lingered outside sound check, I had a ticket.

Once we were on the inside, a few of my colleagues and I were offered a chance to act as volunteers during the show. There is a song in the set, “Walk On,” which was written about Burmese leader Aung San Suu Kyi, who is currently under house arrest. As part of the theatrics, a line of people march out during the song with a mask of her face covering their own and stand on the stage for a few moments to show their support.

My friend Sherry and I accepted the invitation, and the experience is something I’ll never forget. Once we received our cue, we were led up the stairs to the stage and paraded all the way to the front.

I was trying to see the crowd out of the two tiny holes in the mask, working to keep an eye on my feet so I wouldn’t fall off the slim stage, and attempting to glance in my peripheral vision at the band I’ve loved since I was six years old.

The music was massive, the drumbeats acting as my second pulse, while Bono’s voice came up my chest through my throat. It was unbelievable to see what the band sees each night as thousands of faces and emotions stared back at them. I got goosebumps, cried tears of joy and found time to sing along in the midst of the surrealism.

Before I knew it, the moment was over and we were escorted back off the stage. I remained in shock for the rest of the show and celebrated well into the night with my friends Marylinn and David, along with U2’s childhood pal (Daily Telegraph writer), Neil McCormick, and legendary Rolling Stone music journalist Anthony DeCurtis.

One of the best nights of my life.