Everywoman: Beautiful (Somerset Magazine, Jan 2016)

Everywoman [ˈevrēˌwo͝omən] – the ordinary or typical woman

Beautiful [ˈbyo͞odəfəl] - pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically

  Rita (actual name withheld by request) is an ordinary woman, no longer young, but not yet old.  She has a few scars and her hair, beneath its salon color, has begun to gray.  She weighs more than she’d like but not as much as she did.  She speaks of how her mother, self-conscious of her weight, refused to be photographed during her childhood years.  Just as she and her siblings entered adulthood, their mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer.  She began to encourage her children to take snapshots, but they were loath to document her illness.  The result: a generation lost. 

Not long ago, Rita found herself in a similar situation, “I was facing surgery and was afraid that I’d feel less of a woman afterward.”  She’d been looking through photo albums and had noticed a gap in her personal history.  There were grade school pictures, a senior portrait, and wedding photos, then virtually nothing.   It has taken over forty years, but Rita finally believes that she is worthwhile.  Determined to not make her mother’s mistake, she scheduled a photo shoot to provide her family with a tangible memory.  “I had overcome my fear of rejection and could finally look at myself in a mirror with pride.  It was time to face another phobia: being photographed,” she says with a laugh.

On the appointed day, she found herself not thrilled, but apprehensive of the process.  Looking at the stylebooks – all those trim, perfectly coiffed models – and staring at the posters of smiling, windswept beauties made her feel hopeless.  Rita recalls how her stylist, Michelle Holt, came to sit beside her, gently closed the book, and said, “Forget this.  You are your own kind of beautiful.  Let’s show them that.”

Later, in front of the camera, being instructed to turn one way while looking another, walking like a runway model, and posing with leg bent, hand on hip, she felt like a fraud.  “It just wasn’t me.”   Photographer Phil Balko offered words of reassurance, “You are beautiful and it’s okay to feel beautiful.” 

Twice in one day she’d heard the word but, still, she couldn’t believe.  But, then came proof – photographic proof.  Looking at her portraits she saw a beautiful woman.  Not a rail thin supermodel, not an airbrushed end product, but a real, live, beautiful woman.  From Rita’s experience was born the Everywoman: beautiful campaign.

The movement started at Image Makers Studio on Main Street in Somerset.  “One of the things I like best about this business,” says Ruth Walker, who owns the studio with her daughter Kristin Walters, and daughter-in-law Connie Walker, “is that I get to meet so many wonderful people.”  She smiles with affection and something akin to maternal pride as her ‘girls’ – stylists Kayla Lepley, Jenn Fritz, and Michelle Holt - playfully reenact a scene from Charlie’s Angels for the camera. 

The auxiliary salon has been transformed for the day into a makeshift photography studio where Ruth is treating some of her favorite clients to a professional portrait session with Photography by Balko. The portraits will soon begin to replace the posters provided by fashion magazines and hair product manufacturers.  “We feel that our clients better represent what we see as true beauty and this is a great way to showcase the talents of our staff, as well.”

While Phil Balko is lauded for his landscapes, he is best known for his work in wedding photography and portraits done in unique settings.  When asked what he enjoys most he replies, “Kids and dogs can do no wrong, but the truth is, all my subjects are beautiful.”

Tales with Tails, from Somerset Magazine - Jan 2016

It’s been my pleasure to meet some of the very best people in my own backyard.  Jaimie Miller is one of them.  She is an amazing young woman who refuses to allow chronic pain or any of life’s cruel surprises break her momentum.  Jaimie is a wife, mother, Vice President of the Ethel Fund, motivated fundraiser, dedicated volunteer, and my friend. 

Her sons - whom I refer to affectionately as Boy 1 and Boy 2 (though their names are Cash and Tristan) – are learning through her example how to be good.  Not just well behaved, but truly good.  They greet friends by name, always rush to lend a hand, and cheerfully share their mother’s attention with others.  Even their dog, Shaylee, serves the community.

Shaylee is a therapy dog.  She and Jaimie began their work together visiting hospice patients, providing love and quiet affection to those near the end of their lives.  Though important and immensely satisfying, these visits can be difficult.  To balance the scale, Jaimie began to look for therapy work with children – something upbeat and fun.

As a TDI (Therapy Dog International) certified team, she searched for a Tail Waggin’ Tutors program, but found none closer than Pittsburgh.  Jaimie is of the belief that, if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.  Her solution: she and Shaylee founded the successful and exponentially growing program Tales with Tails.

Shaylee can be found at area libraries and schools, along with other dog-handler teams, hanging out with kids and books.  The premise of the program is to help children who have a little trouble reading gain confidence by reading to nonjudgmental dogs.  Daisy and I have recently joined Jaimie’s group and we’ve found that it’s about much more than just books.

At Windber Elementary School recently, we met scores of children, faculty, and support staff, all with smiles upon their faces.  From the tiny preschoolers who gleefully showed Daisy their favorite picture books to young Grace in fourth grade (whom I fully expect to become President) who read a full chapter from a novel, we enjoyed every encounter.

The day passed all too quickly, but there was time in some of the classrooms to answer questions and even show off a few tricks.  Students and teachers alike learned new things about how to politely approach a new dog (always ask before petting, touch first on the side of the face, not the top of a dog’s head), why Daisy has curly hair (recessive genes), and that not all Rottweilers (or pit bulls, or poodles, or dachshunds) are mean.

Daisy is rather young – just two years old – to be a therapy dog and she learned that she could earn a treat by looking at the pages of the book her student friend was reading.  At first, she’d sneak a quick peak and look for a treat; by the end of the day, she stared with rapt attention until each page was turned.

Of course, I learned new things that day, too.  I learned that my student has become my teacher.  Jaimie has opened my mind to a new and exciting avenue to share some of my greatest loves: dogs, books, and children.  If you, like Daisy and myself, would like to become a certified therapy dog team, check out TDI at ww.tdi-dog.org for further information.  To join Tales with Tails, you may contact Jaimie at jacey78@hotmail.com.

There is No Dog

 

by REBECCA S. LINDEMAN

from Somerset Magazine, December 2015

 There is no dog in this story; nor was there one on October 12, 2000 when the USS Cole was attacked by al-Qaeda suicide bombers.  Seventeen American sailors were killed and 39 injured.  Fred Ings II was one of the 39, but there are days – far too many of them – that he wishes he’d been the 18^th.  The wounds he sustained required multiple spinal surgeries and, ultimately, forced his retirement from the Navy. 

To say that the memories of that day haunt him is not enough.  Fred rarely sleeps through the night and what rest he gets is plagued by dreams so vivid that he wakes in a Yemen hospital rather than his own bed.  He is forever at war, a place no child belongs, so he keeps his son and daughter at an emotional distance.  Even his wife is kept at arm’s length.  As is the case with many active-duty veterans, Fred is in a constant state of hypervigilance, checking every shadow, corner, and barrier for possible threats.  He is exhausted, in both body and mind.

PTSD is a battle Fred can no longer fight alone, nor should he have to.  He and his psychologist have carefully researched the benefits of a psychiatric service dog; one specifically trained to recognize a nightmare or flashback and gently bring Fred back from memory to reality.  A dog that would carry the medicines he sometimes forgets and remind him in response to a timer installed in its pack.  A dog that would turn on lights and check corners before he enters a room.  A dog that would be his constant companion and emotional support, a calm and loving presence in a frightening world.

Such a dog exists and Fred has completed the rigorous application process.  He has demonstrated his ability to follow training protocol and will commit to both initial and continuing education to become and remain an effective dog-handler team.  He has been examined and found to have both the need of and potential to benefit from a service animal.  There only thing that stands in his way is money.

It costs between $25,000 and $30,000 to raise and properly train a psychiatric service dog.  Thankfully, the agency that matches these extraordinary animals to those who need them absorbs most of the financial burden but, for an unemployable disabled veteran, the $5,000 co-pay might as well be $5 million. 

There is no dog in this story but, with your help, there can be.  What seems impossible to this family can be accomplished if we pull together as a community.  The readers of this column have demonstrated an incredible generosity by donating to save the lives of family pets.  Today, I am asking that you donate to save a family.  Let’s give this veteran more than a handshake to thank him for his service, let’s give him the tools necessary to rebuild his shattered life.

You may send donations to help Fred: The Ethel Fund Inc., PO Box 1231, Somerset PA 15501.  Please write “Service Dog” in the memo line of your check.

Antiphon

 

fierce companion of the never was

the sanguine what may be

antithesis of malignant what might have been

 

dusk is not too late for flight

from love that was mostly thespian

to tangible affection with one who honors memory.