Wednesday, May 6, 2026
Wednesday, May 6, 2026
Today’s post is from Cindy.
How the Bracelet Brigade Was Formed
Many of us wear Andy’s Army, F ALS, or Team Andy bead bracelets. They’re more than accessories—they’re small, visible reminders that Andy did not fight ALS alone. When he saw friends and family wearing them, he felt it immediately: the love, the solidarity, the strength of Andy’s Army.
It started simply.
Alex’s fiancée at the time, Nicole, had taken up bracelet-making as a hobby—something to do while unwinding in front of the TV. She made bracelets for herself and for people she cared about, stacking them on her wrist in bright, meaningful combinations.
One day, she made a few for Andy and me.
That small gesture sparked something bigger.
Andy looked at the bracelets and said, “Let’s make these and sell them to raise money to support others with this shitty diagnosis.”
So I got to work. I watched videos, learned techniques, and wandered the jewelry aisles of hobby stores, staring at rows of beads in every color imaginable. The possibilities felt endless—and a little overwhelming—but I filled my cart and began.
Soon, my sister Barb offered her house as a workspace. What started as a small project quickly grew—my supplies alone expanded into two tote bags filled with beads, wire, stretchy cord, clasps, and tools. We even recruited Barb’s husband Mark, our family’s creative force, who gladly joined in.
Our niece, Rebecca, herself an expert in making bracelets, offered to make some from her home, and we happily took her up on it. Turns out she has a talent for selling them, too.
Then Andy’s high school friends asked how they could help. When we suggested making bracelets, their hands went up instantly—no hesitation.
A few weeks later, our dining table was full. Carrie, Cathy, Chrissy, Monica, and Barb—sometimes Joy, too—sat together, stringing beads in all colors and sizes. It felt almost timeless, like a scene from another era: women gathered around a table, working with their hands, creating something meaningful together. But instead of quilts, we made bracelets—each one a symbol of support.
At some point, someone suggested a name: the Bracelet Brigade. It stuck.
Even though we don’t gather as often anymore, the name remains—and so does the spirit behind it.
What began as a quiet hobby has grown into something far greater. The Bracelet Brigade helped raise funds for families facing ALS, and Andy’s Army continues to grow. In 2025, Andy’s Army marathon team consisted of four motivated runners. This year, 15 runners will take on the Chicago Marathon in Andy’s honor.
All of it—bracelets, races, shirts—started with a simple act of love.
And it continues as a powerful reminder: Andy did not fight alone.


