They call America’s Got Talent the biggest stage in the world, and it definitely felt like it that day last April. I stood on that huge, brightly lit stage in Pasadena, California, with my guitar, my throat dry, palms sweating, stomach in knots. I had flown in for the audition the day before from my home in Trumbull, Connecticut. As I stared out at the audience of thousands, it hit me that this moment could change my life forever.
When judge Howie Mandel asked my name and I tried to speak, nothing came out. The crowd fell silent, as silent as I was, waiting for the words to come. Finally I stammered my name and then my age, 19.
“As you can probably
