When James Hall was just 4 months old, his world looked simple and sweet. His parents, Ashley và Nate, saw nothing more than a happy, easygoing baby with the usual small hiccups that every newborn brings.

No one could have imagined how drastically life was about to change.

At 10 months old, a string of constant ear infections pushed the family to visit an ENT specialist. Maybe a cyst, the doctor thought. A CT scan would give clarity.
But instead of clarity, it delivered a blow no parent is ever prepared for.

A mass in the left temporal lobe of their baby’s brain.

Ashley remembers the moment their lives split intobefore and after.
“We were very much caught off-guard,” she said — because how could any parent expect a tumor in their infant’s brain?

Before they had time to steady themselves, another shock came. Further tests revealed a second tumor at the back of James’ skull. As the Halls waited for their next appointment, a nurse quietly told them they wouldn’t be going to ENT anymore. They were being sent to Level 11 — the children’s oncology floor.

That floor would become their second home. Its doctors and nurses, their second family.

James was only a year old, with two older siblings at home and a new baby on the way, when the whirlwind began: MRIs, X-rays, biopsies, surgery for a port, and chemotherapy.
“The days were a whirlwind,” Ashley says, “but we went home knowing we were in the right place.”

Doctors initially suspected three possible conditions. When the results came back, it was confirmed: Langerhans cell histiocytosis (LCH), a rare disorder that mimics cancer and damages tissue through lesions caused by rogue immune cells.
“Of the three, it was the best worst-case scenario,” Ashley said — a sentence no parent dreams they will ever have to say.

James began chemotherapy and high-dose steroids. A genetic mutation explained why the disease happened — and why it might come back. His hearing temporarily faded in his left ear but eventually returned. He battled high fevers, difficult side effects, endless uncertainty.

Through it all, he kept smiling.

By May 2022, chemo ended. Scans were clear. The family rang the bell and breathed again.

But childhood cancer rarely allows a clean ending.

Late that year, James began waking suddenly — sometimes in the afternoon, sometimes deep in the night — vomiting with no warning. When it wouldn’t stop, doctors ordered a new MRI.

On May 8, 2023 — exactly one year and two days after celebrating the end of chemo — they received the news every cancer family fears.

Another brain tumor.

“That was the worst day,” Ashley says. “That was really hard to hear.”

Because of the tumor’s position on the brain stem, a biopsy was too dangerous. One wrong move could take his life. His case was so rare that his team could not find another child like him anywhere.

James restarted steroids, then chemotherapy. When chemo failed to help, he completed 28 rounds of radiation. The tumor wouldn’t shrink, and a second diagnosis was considered: low-grade pontine glioma, a slow-growing tumor requiring lifetime monitoring. In January 2025, LCH returned — this time in his thyroid and pituitary gland.

James will continue chemotherapy until next spring.

Yet despite everything, the little boy at the heart of this storm remains pure joy.
Now 5 years old, he loves t-ball, basketball, swimming, and video games — his favorite part of hospital visits. He calls the place “Dr. Dickens Hospital,” a small sign of the bond he has with his care team.

In 2021, when James was first diagnosed, Dr. Dickens brought staff members to the Field of Dreams in Dyersville for team building. Ashley invited local families to join, selling raffle tickets to raise money for the hospital.
From that small idea grew something extraordinary.

Each year, the Field of Dreams event grew — more families, more awareness, more support. Eventually, the Why We Wave Foundation was born, created by the Hall family to support other pediatric cancer families.

Last year, Ashley dreamed of giving families another kind of joy: the chance to attend a football game and take part in the famous Hawkeye Wave. Within one week, 63 families signed up. Patients and parents raised additional funds so even more families could join.

Today, the Why We Wave Foundation provides gas money, grocery support, sports tickets, respite experiences, and — perhaps most importantly — hope.

“It has been four years since our son was diagnosed. There are good and bad days in childhood cancer. People show up and care,” Ashley says. “We have committed to helping families through pediatric cancer, even while we are going through it, as it gives James’ diagnosis a purpose.”

And in a year full of fear, questions, and unknowns, one truth remains unshaken for the Hall family:

“We always knew we were receiving the care we needed at UI Stead Family Children’s Hospital.”

James’ fight continues.
His story continues.
And his wave — the wave that started with one brave little boy — is now lifting countless families just like his.