Slowing Down to Move Forward
STORY
Slowing Down to Move Forward
The entrance to Mattapan Community Health Center sits at a four-way stop where Babson Street bends into Blue Hill Avenue—a major city artery controlled by a single, overworked stoplight. Tonight, traffic prevents Babson drivers from making a left onto Blue Hill, prompting a chorus of honking horns.
Upstairs, in the health center, the energy is celebratory. Current HEART of Communities patients, alumni, and staff have gathered to commemorate the program’s formal launch—an early but major milestone for the Boston Medical Center, Mass General Brigham, and Mattapan Community Health Center collaboration. Conversation and laughter spill into the hallway, easily drowning out the chaotic sounds from the street below.
Every patient in this room has their own personal reason for joining the six-month program. For some, it was a proactive choice to take preventative measures and get ahead of heart disease. For others, it was reactive.
That was the case for David A. Blake, a father and Mattapan resident of more than 50 years, whose path to HEART of Communities began unexpectedly.
It Was Just Another Day
David doesn’t sugarcoat what happened to him.
“I thought it was just gas,” says the soon-to-be program graduate. “I was burping, but something felt different. So, I went to urgent care. They did some tests, and the next thing I knew, they were calling an ambulance. Paramedics said, ‘You’re having a heart attack.’ And I’m just sitting there, talking like this, thinking, ‘No way.’
Even now, eight months later, he’s still struck by how casual the moment felt.
“There were no dramatics—none of that.”
What started as a normal day at work became a major turning point in his life. His stress and blood pressure had to be addressed. A month later, on his provider's recommendation, he joined the HEART of Communities program.
A Community Within His Community
The decision to enroll was easier because it was already in Mattapan.
“Here, someone knows someone,” David says. “Everyone is connected.”
That familiarity made the program feel less like a clinic and more like a community. Still, he arrived shy, which he insists people rarely believe.
“At first, I wasn’t ready to share, but by about the third week, it started feeling like, ‘Okay, I know you.’ I look forward to it now.”
While exercise and diet play a major role in the program, David says the biggest takeaway has been his “understanding of calmness.”
“Stress is a very silent killer. I understand now how quickly your (blood) pressure can go up, and from something simple.”
David’s work, he admits, can be naturally tense, and it involves a good bit of driving. Before, with tense moments on the road, he would allow traffic and other outside factors to add additional strain.
“Now, I pull over, park, and take a deep breath. Some people use music or conversation. Get out of the car for a second, even. Life is good. Who cares about traffic? You’ll get to where you’re going.”
It’s solid advice for the horn honkers on Babson and Blue Hill.
More Than a Number
David checks his blood pressure three times a day—morning, afternoon, and evening. And the numbers are not just for him. They’re sent directly to his Community Wellness Advocate, William Sackey.
“If I’m too stressed and the numbers go high, William gets pinged. Then he calls or texts within minutes: ‘Everything all right? Do you need anything? Relax a bit.’ He's younger, but he’s like a big brother watching over me.”
This kind of follow-up is what sets HEART of Communities apart. The support doesn’t end when the session is done.
It Could Truly Happen to Anyone
Despite the noise from traffic outside and the celebration around him, David speaks with a fireside calm—grounded, reflective.
“It took me a while to understand I really had a heart attack.”
Everyone in his life, his family, friends, and coworkers, reacted nearly the same: No way. Not you. If it could happen to David, it truly could happen to anyone.
“They were all worried about me so much...,” he begins, but his words catch a moment, surprising himself. “And that felt so good... Knowing that they care about me.”
Hearing their concern, and hearing them tell him to prioritize his health, gave him the motivation he needed. That love and support helped him show up each week, focus on getting better, and pass those lessons on to others.
“There was nothing different that day. Nothing. That’s why it took me a while to understand what was going on. Men shake things off. I was going to go home or finish working, but the EMTs told me they would have found me dead, hunched over. Now I tell my friends, ‘If something feels funny, go get checked. If it’s just gas, who cares? You’re alive.’”
It’s A Marathon, Not A Sprint
Like many patients set to finish the Mattapan-based program, David understands that graduating doesn’t mean his journey is over. Quite the opposite. Each day will be a new challenge and a reminder to continue incorporating the healthy habits learned, as meaningful change doesn’t happen overnight.
He has advice for anyone recommended to the program: “If you’re thinking of joining, if your doctor suggested it, come in and listen. If you want to open yourself up, if not, it's okay, because they’re going to be here when you are. The program’s just a year old, and I hope it’ll go on at least another 40.”
Outside, the traffic has died down, giving the streetlight a moment of needed rest. Inside, as the celebration continues, Giavanna Gaskin, MBA, Director of Health Equity Programs, calls for everyone’s attention.
She thanks the room for being there—for their effort, their progress, and their shared commitment over the past year. Then, as a reminder that balance, moderation, and joy around food are part of a sustainable, healthy lifestyle, everyone is offered a slice of cake.