Last month, Jayton Metcalf stood at a kiosk in Rosedale Mall and showed items from his apparel line to a couple of potential customers. I was walking through the mall with my girls when I saw him and asked about his clothing business, Blind Havoc.

His sweatshirts boast messages of positivity, including phrases, such as "Ignore What's Negative" and "Love Your Neighbor." During the pandemic, the 22-year-old designer said he decided to do his part to bring some light to the people around him when interaction became more restrictive.

"Once the pandemic shut that down, I was just in the process of trying to figure out what I could do in quarantine to still try to put out a positive message," Metcalf said.

It was a Midwest moment as we began to talk about his vision. Not only do we have similar last names but he mentioned that his father is Rob Metcalf, a former Gophers men's basketball player. I knew his father's name from my time on the Gophers beat more than a decade ago. Someone should do a study on the mutual connections we all seem to have throughout the Twin Cities.

I am always fascinated by young folks who are innovative and ambitious. He also was intentional.

Metcalf, a business marketing major at the University of Minnesota, said he was a volunteer in north Minneapolis with Volunteers of America when the pandemic eliminated those opportunities. Some of the young folks he had worked with had been listed as at-risk cases.

During his time with those students, however, he learned they were misunderstood. They were kids mostly searching for connection. Though he discussed academics with them, he mostly tried to build relationships.

Without that outlet in the pandemic, Metcalf had a lot of time on his hands.

He used that to push forward with his clothing line. But he did not know where to begin, so he studied YouTube videos to learn. Then, he paid $200 to get his first batch of T-shirts and he was ready to begin.

"That's when I found out how to start a clothing brand and I kept researching that," he said. "And then, I wanted it to have a positive feel to it. It was a message I thought was truest to myself. Being raised in a family where no matter what happened, my parents just always stressed, 'Always be nice to everyone and try to include everyone.'"

First, however, he needed a name for his new brand. He said he wanted a name that would exemplify what has seemed so difficult to do in recent years. "Blind Havoc" is a name he created to send the message that it's OK to push forward through the chaos.

He invested in the kiosk last summer and his business has grown since then. Even Suni Lee, the Olympic gold medalist, bought one of his sweatshirts. The brand's Instagram account has nearly 8,000 followers.

The buzz has impressed Metcalf, but it's the impact that's been most touching.

He's heard from folks who've gone through a number of obstacles during the pandemic — divorces, financial issues and depression — and bought one of his items because of its messaging.

Metcalf said he recently heard from a mother who bought one of his T-shirts and gave it to her son who was struggling through mental health challenges.

"I just got that email the other day and this is a way better feeling than selling a bunch of stuff," he said. "Messages where people will let me know how Blind Havoc has helped them in a small way or positively affected them … that is the best feedback."

I sometimes assume that our reactions in these uplifting moments are sporadic and short-lived.

After a message makes us smile, cry or laugh, where do we take it? That has been one of the most difficult components of these last few years. It's hard to know what will stick. I bought a sweatshirt from Metcalf to support him. And when I got home, I kept looking at the message: "Ignore What's Negative." It did make me feel something.

I wore it the next day and a few days later, I wore it again while I was at dinner at a local restaurant with my youngest daughter. As we were finishing our meals, I felt someone's hand on my left shoulder. My back was turned so I had no idea who had touched me. I'm usually more suspicious than inviting in those instances.

Then, a gray-haired woman stood next to me and smiled. "I like that message on your sweatshirt," she said. We did not become friends. We did not high-five one another or hug.

But it was an acknowledgment of something, perhaps a glimpse of what we can be if we can navigate the ominous signs around us and believe in something brighter.

"The last few years have been really tough for people," Metcalf said. "I feel like I have an ability to help change a little bit of their mindset, more toward the positive light."

Myron Medcalf is a local columnist for the Star Tribune and a national writer and radio host for ESPN. His column appears in print on Sundays twice a month and also online.