Drake White remembers the moment everything went silent. After taking the stage, about three songs in, he noticed his body was not feeling normal. “The cotton candy sky became the ground and the grass became the sky. I was like, man, I'm having a stroke."
When White suffered a hemorrhagic stroke in 2019 due to a ruptured arteriovenous malformation (AVM)—a tangle of arteries and veins in his brain—he had to relearn everything—walking, talking, even the simplest tasks. That experience inspired him to dedicate his life to helping others navigate the challenges he faced, both physically and emotionally.
Panic could have swallowed him whole. Instead, he fixed his mind on breath. On presence. On the name he repeated like a lifeline: Yahweh, Yahweh. “As long as I could breathe, I just made that sound,” he recalls, “I saw angels, anchors of peace. I knew I was protected.”
His wife Alex was seven hours away in Nashville. The call came and she drove through the night, reaching his bedside just as he woke. Her hand slipped into his left—only he couldn’t move it. Couldn’t move his leg. Couldn’t recognize the body he suddenly felt trapped inside.
“That was one of the lowest lows,” he says, “Realizing I’m not going to Australia. I’m not touring with Zac Brown. I can’t even move.” Depression didn’t creep in; it crashed. The future blurred into a long, uncertain road no doctor could promise he’d ever fully walk.
But somewhere inside that darkness, White made a vow. A quiet deal with God.
“If you let me hold my wife’s left hand again with my left hand,” he prayed, “and give me the ability to have kids, to keep going—I’ll make this about other people. I’ll show them the light that you are. I’ll show them how I got through this.”
Six years later—with walls dented from thrown phones, with hard-fought victories hard-won, with days he admits were filled with both despairing thoughts and others blazing with gratitude—he’s kept that promise.
White’s recovery wasn’t just physical. It was a mental marathon. A spiritual wrestling match. A test of identity, marriage, endurance, and faith. And through it, he learned that the real battlefield is often invisible: the struggle happening inside the mind.
Out of that realization came Benefit for the Brain, which White describes as a night dedicated to the battle between our ears, a nonprofit built to support not only survivors of neurological trauma but the caregivers who often shoulder more than anyone sees. Caregivers like Alex.
The mission goes beyond raising funds; it’s about providing education, advocacy, and community for people dealing with traumatic brain injuries, mental health struggles, and the complex healthcare systems surrounding them. White emphasizes practical tools for survivors and caregivers alike—how to manage treatment, navigate insurance hurdles, and find hope amid uncertainty.
Through gatherings, retreats, music-driven healing work, and mental wellness programs, Benefit for the Brain creates space for that care. White calls it spiritual physiotherapy—tending to the mind with the same seriousness we give the body.
The mission echoes through his newer music, his documentary The Hunts the Healing, and the raw honesty he shares onstage. His story—once defined by a single terrifying moment—is now a testament to what happens when vulnerability meets purpose.
“I just want people to know I get it,” he says, “It’s hard. I’ve been there. I know the mental battle. And I want them to know there’s hope.”
In Drake White’s world, healing isn’t a finish line. It’s a rhythm, a practice, and a shared climb. And the people walking beside the wounded—the caregivers—deserve just as much light on their path.
For more information visit benefitforthebrain.com, DrakeWhite.com and follow @drakewhitestomp. Make sure to check out Drake White on The Paper Trail Podcast with Publisher January Alexander.
Pull Quote p3 (4) God's goodness shines through Drake's story from stroke back to stage.
Flex Page Quote: "I want people to know I get it. It’s hard. I’ve been there. I know the mental battle. And I want them to know there’s hope."