On a quiet May weekend in 2025, Terry Harden received news that would change his life forever. Newly diagnosed with Classic Hodgkin's Lymphoma, his first thoughts weren't about himself; they were about his wife. "My first thoughts were how I am going to tell my wife on Mother's Day weekend," he recalled, "and whether I am going to die."

Those two questions, one tender, one terrifying, capture exactly the kind of man Terry Harden is. Even in the most frightening moment of his life, his instinct was to protect someone he loved.

Classic Hodgkin's Lymphoma is a cancer of the lymphatic system, and for Terry, it had made itself known through swelling in his neck, underarm, and chest. His treatment plan involved chemotherapy infusions, a physically grueling process that brought with it significant weight loss and fatigue. But the emotional weight was its own battle. "The challenge was showing up every day and not getting discouraged when things did not go my way," he said.

Still, there were moments of light in the darkness. After his very first chemotherapy treatment, the swelling in his neck, underarm, and chest went down dramatically. "I knew things were going to be okay," he said. It was the sign he needed.

Keeping his spirits up through the hardest days, Terry leaned on the memory of his late stepfather, a man who faced his own cancer diagnosis without complaint and never used it as an excuse to stop fighting, not even until his final days. That example was a compass. A close friend also offered him words that became a mantra: “You have cancer, but cancer does not have you.”

If the cancer tried to isolate Terry, the people around him refused to let it. His wife and children were his foundation, always reminding him they had his back on the days when treatment left him exhausted. His colleagues at the University of Arkansas Hope-Texarkana greeted him with smiles and encouraging words. His TRiO program family made sure he always had something to eat and a shoulder to lean on. His Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity brothers kept his spirit lifted with steady encouragement.

And then the college did something that moved him deeply: they organized a fundraiser on his behalf. "It was very heartfelt," he said. "I was very appreciative, not just for the monetary donations, but for the support from the college community. I felt loved and appreciated." The fundraiser, he said, confirmed something he had long hoped was true: "I knew my decision to come to work at UAHT was the correct decision."

He is quick to extend that gratitude beyond the college walls. "I love the City of Hope," he said, "and I know Hope loves me back."

Throughout his journey, Terry's faith remained a steady anchor. "I believe that God is a healer and will give you what you need even in difficult situations," he said. He also found purpose in the idea that someone might be watching how he handled his diagnosis and that his perseverance might give another person the strength to face their own trials.

That sense of responsibility to others runs deep in him. His experience has reshaped his priorities in lasting ways. "Health is wealth," he said. "Support everyone, because you never know when you can be in that situation. If you can help someone, help. Never turn your back or turn your eye to anyone's situation."

When the moment finally came when the doctors delivered the news he had fought so hard to hear, Terry described it as a burden being lifted from his shoulders. "A new chance in life," he called it.

He celebrated the way he had survived: surrounded by the people who love him. Family, coworkers, fraternity brothers, friends, and his church family all shared in the joy of a milestone that once felt impossibly far away.

Today, Terry says he makes it a priority to help the people around him smile more because he knows firsthand what it feels like to be in a moment where smiling seems impossible.

When asked what he would say to someone just entering their own cancer battle, he reached for the words of the late ESPN anchor Stuart Scott, delivered during Scott's own courageous fight: “When you die, it does not mean that you lose to cancer. You beat cancer by how you live, why you live, and in the manner in which you live. So live. Live! Fight like hell. And when you get too tired to fight, then lay down and rest and let somebody else fight for you.”

And for everyone at UAHT who walked alongside him through the fear, the treatments, and the uncertainty, Terry Harden has a message he wants shouted from the rooftops: “WE beat cancer, and I could not have done it without YOU. I love every single one of you. None of this is possible without you.”