Showing posts with label heroes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heroes. Show all posts

Saturday, September 8, 2012

MOMENTS THAT MATTER: Take A Gander


Travelers Find Warmth in the
Frozen North on 9.11.2001


GANDER, Newfoundland — It could have been a short, sweet story: planes get diverted, local people pitch in to help stranded passengers. Polite thank-you letters and gifts follow.


What happened in Newfoundland in one terrifying week in September was all that. But in the months that followed, the story continued to grow. Here and in scattered hamlets for miles around, everyone has a part of it to tell — how half a dozen or so isolated communities had been embraced by strangers who dropped from the sky and changed their lives.

Greg King was there when it started. As an air traffic controller, he was on duty on Sept. 11 at Gander, once the hub of North Atlantic air travel, but now an airport that sees few commercial aircraft on the ground while still directing them overhead. Late that morning, when he was preparing for the daily ''wall of airplanes'' from Europe heading for arrivals in New York and other cities, Mr. King suddenly received an order to shut down the sky.
 

DIVERTED: Planes line up on the runway of the
Gander, Newfoundland, Canada airport on September 12, 2001

Thirty-eight planes were told to land immediately, and for a couple of hours Mr. King barely had time to call his wife and say he would be bringing strangers home for the night. At some point, he recalls, he also registered a fleeting image of an Air France Boeing 747 ''bigger than the airport terminal.''

Gander, a town of 10,000 people with 550 hotel rooms, had to find beds and food for 6,579 passengers and crew members. Other airstrip towns in Newfoundland and Labrador also had unexpected company, but not on this scale.

"This never happened before in the history of aviation,'' said Terry Parsons, chairman of the Gander International Airport Authority. Fortunately, Gander -- created as a military airfield and a trans-Atlantic refueling point in the 1930's -- has a long runway, and a disaster plan. It also has churches, service clubs, doctors and shop owners with small-town, good-neighbor values long out of date in many places, including other parts of Canada. 


 The people of Gander also opened their homes and
welcomed strangers the way they welcome, well, everyone. 

''We're used to helping people,'' said Mayor Claude Elliott, speaking of a region that lives with rough seas, harsh weather and an uncertain economy. ''I guess our biggest problem was trying to explain to people where they were.''

 Jake Turner, the town manager, went into action as soon as the planes started landing. Des Dillon of the Canadian Red Cross was asked to round up beds, along with Maj. Ron Stuckless of the Salvation Army, who also became the coordinator of a mass collection of food that emptied refrigerators for miles around.

Employees from the local co-op supermarket arrived with a refrigerated truck full of meat and other provisions. At St. Martin's Anglican Church, Hilda Goodyear spent 48 mostly sleepless hours organizing bedding and priming the parish hall's kitchen for a Lufthansa flight.

 When 6700 passengers arrived in Gander, townspeople
 immediately brought food to the Community Center to feed them.

People from as far away as Twillingate, an island off the Kittiwake Coast of Newfoundland, prepared enough sandwiches and soup for at least 200 people and drove an hour and a half to Gander to deliver it to dazed and frightened passengers being herded off planes without luggage and under intense scrutiny.

Responding to radio announcements, the residents and businesses of Gander and other towns supplied toothbrushes, deodorant, soap, blankets and even spare underwear, along with offers of hot showers and guest rooms.

There were some with special needs. Carl and Ethna Smith found kosher food through an airport caterer and a new set of kitchenware for an orthodox Jewish family from New York. At the Gander Baptist Church, Gary and Donna House dealt with the needs of four Moldovan refugee families, members of a religious sect who spoke no English and were bewildered by events. 


 The local Gander phone company set up banks of free telephones so stranded passengers could stay in touch with loved ones back home following the 9/11 tragedy.

Newtel Communications, the telephone company, set up phone banks for passengers to call home. Local television cable companies wired schools and church halls, where passengers watched events unfolding in New York and realized how lucky they were.

The passengers, who left with tears and hugs, have responded with their own astonishing acts of generosity. Lewisporte, a seaside town where 4,000 people made room for 773 unexpected guests, received new lighting for the Anglican church and a scholarship fund worth $19,000 ''and still growing'' said the mayor, Bill Hooper. 

 
Those five days in September, and the stream of e-mail messages, gifts, photographs and invitations that still pour in, have given an incalculable lift to the Newfoundlanders. ''It gave the people a sense of self-worth,'' said Mr. House, a retired teacher and school librarian. ''Newfoundlanders have often felt put down. They speak funny. There are all those 'goofy Newfie' jokes.

Other towns in Newfoundland and Labrador (and across Canada) also took in temporarily displaced passengers with hospitality that day and are equally deserving of our gratitude.

------------

Plenty of grateful Americans who passed through Gander that day took the opportunity to pen appreciative letters similar to the one quoted above when they returned home, such as the following letter to the editor of the Cleveland Plain Dealer:

 
We were flying home from a wonderful vacation in Paris and were about an hour from Newark when an announcement was made that terrorists had attacked New York and Washington and our flight was being diverted to Gander, Newfoundland.

We were the fourth of 38 planes to land in Gander and were kept on the plane for seven hours. Then we proceeded to immigration, where many compassionate people met us. An unidentified woman approached and put her arm around us and wanted to know if there was anything she could do to help us. At this point we were greatly concerned about our two sons who work in Manhattan. She took us to a phone, where we called our oldest son, who assured us that he and his brother were safe. 

 Schools, fire stations and even church halls were converted 
into temporary dormitories when 6700 passengers were 
stranded in Gander by September 11th.

From there we were put on school buses and taken to the College of the North Atlantic. Many ordinary, caring people met us and made all 300 passengers feel welcome. We were given blankets and pillows from their homes. We stayed for two nights and three days. We slept on the floor, as cots could not be rounded up fast enough. We shared our classroom with 18 others and a dog.

Everyone was extraordinarily thoughtful of each other. One woman must have put her life on hold and was constantly checking on us. She even came to the airport when we finally left to make sure we all were fine. I never saw her without a smile. 


The lady who ran the cafeteria along with many neighbors made hot meals and brought in casseroles each day. Students helped us to use e-mail, and we were able to use the phone to call our family. No organization with financial backing was behind this — this was a call to neighbors and friends to come and help those of us in need.

We will never be able to think of Gander, Newfoundland, without remembering all the goodness and kindness that was showered upon us by our neighbors and friends from Canada.

------------------

Here's a letter written by Nazim, a flight attendant on Delta Flight 15, written after 9-11:


We were about 5 hours out of Frankfurt flying over the North Atlantic and I was in my crew rest seat taking my scheduled rest break. All of a sudden the curtains parted violently and I was told to go to the cockpit, right now, to see the captain. As soon as I got there I noticed the crew had one of those "All Business" looks on their faces. The captain handed me a printed message. I quickly read the message and realized the importance of it. The message was from Atlanta, addressed to our flight, and simply said, "All airways over the Continental US are closed. Land ASAP at the nearest airport, advise your destination."

Now, when a dispatcher tells you to land immediately without suggesting which airport, one can assume that the dispatcher has reluctantly given up control of the flight to the captain. We knew it was a serious situation and we needed to find terra firma quickly. It was quickly decided that the nearest airport was 400 miles away, behind our right shoulder, in Gander, on the island of New Foundland.

A quick request was made to the Canadian traffic controller and a right turn, directly to Gander, was approved immediately. We found out later why there was no hesitation by the Canadian controller approving our request. We, the in-flight crew, were told to get the airplane ready for an immediate landing. While this was going on another message arrived from Atlanta telling us about some terrorist activity in the New York area. We briefed the in-flight crew about going to Gander and we went about our business 'closing down' the airplane for a landing. 


A few minutes later I went back to the cockpit to find out that some airplanes had been hijacked and were being flown into buildings all over the US. We decided to make an announcement and LIE to the passengers for the time being. We told them that an instrument problem had arisen on the airplane and that we needed to land at Gander, to have it checked. We promised to give more information after landing in Gander. There were many unhappy passengers but that is par for the course.

We landed in Gander about 40 minutes after the start of this episode. There were already about 20 other airplanes on the ground from all over the world. After we parked on the ramp the captain made the following announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, you must be wondering if all these airplanes around us have the same instrument problem as we have. But the reality is that we are here for a good reason." Then he went on to explain the little bit we knew about the situation in the US. There were loud gasps and stares of disbelief. Local time at Gander was 12:30 pm. (11:00 AM EST)

Gander control told us to stay put. No one was allowed to get off the aircraft. No one on the ground was allowed to come near the aircraft. Only a car from the airport police would come around once in a while, look us over and go on to the next airplane. In the next hour or so all the airways over the North Atlantic were vacated and Gander alone ended up with 53 airplanes from all over the world, out of which 27 were flying US flags. 



We were told that each and every plane was to be offloaded, one at a time, with the foreign carriers given the priority. We were No. 14 in the US category. We were further told that we would be given a tentative time to deplane at 6 pm. Meanwhile bits of news started to come in over the aircraft radio and for the first time we learned that airplanes were flown into the World Trade Center in New York and into the Pentagon in DC.

People were trying to use their cell phones but were unable to connect due to a different cell system in Canada. Some did get through but were only able to get to the Canadian operator who would tell them that the lines to the US were either blocked or jammed and to try again. Some time late in the evening the news filtered to us that the World Trade Center buildings had collapsed and that a fourth hijacking had resulted in a crash.

Now the passengers were totally bewildered and emotionally exhausted but stayed calm as we kept reminding them to look around to see that we were not the only ones in this predicament. There were 52 other planes with people on them in the same situation. We also told them that the Canadian Government was in charge and we were at their mercy. True to their word, at 6 PM, Gander airport told us that our turn to deplane would come at 11 AM, the next morning. That took the last wind out of the passengers and they simply resigned and accepted this news without much noise and really started to get into a mode of spending the night on the airplane.

Fortunately we had no medical situation during the night. We did have a young lady who was 33 weeks into her pregnancy. We took REALLY good care of her. The night passed without any further complications on our airplane despite the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements. About 10:30 on the morning of the 12th we were told to get ready to leave the aircraft. 


 A convoy of school buses showed up at the side of the airplane, the stairway was hooked up and the passengers were taken to the terminal for "processing" We, the crew, were taken to the same terminal but were told to go to a different section, where we were processed through Immigration and customs and then had to register with the Red Cross. After that we were isolated from our passengers and were taken in a caravan of vans to a very small hotel in the town of Gander. We had no idea where our passengers were going.

The town of Gander has a population of 10,400 people. Red Cross told us that they were going to process about 10,500 passengers from all the airplanes that were forced into Gander. We were told to just relax at the hotel and wait for a call to go back to the airport, but not to expect that call for a while. We found out the total scope of the terror back home only after getting to our hotel and turning on the TV,

24 hours after it all started. Meanwhile we enjoyed ourselves going around town discovering things and enjoying the hospitality. The people were so friendly and they just knew that we were the "Plane people". We all had a great time until we got that call, 2 days later, on the 14th at 7 AM. We made it to the airport by 8:30 AM and left for Atlanta at 12:30 PM arriving in Atlanta at about 4:30 PM. (Gander is 1 hour and 30 minutes ahead of EST, yes!, 1 hour and 30 minutes.) But that's not what I wanted to tell you. What passengers told us was so uplifting and incredible and the timing couldn't have been better.

We found out that Gander and the surrounding small communities, within a 75 Kilometer radius, had closed all the high schools, meeting halls, lodges, and any other large gathering places. They converted all these facilities to a mass lodging area. Some had cots set up, some had mats with sleeping bags and pillows set up. ALL the high school students HAD to volunteer taking care of the "GUESTS". 



Our 218 passengers ended up in a town called Lewisporte, about 45 Kilometers from Gander. There they were put in a high school. If any women wanted to be in a women only facility, that was arranged. Families were kept together. All the elderly passengers were given no choice and were taken to private homes. Remember that young pregnant lady, she was put up in a private home right across the street from a 24 hour Urgent Care type facility. There were DDS on call and they had both male and female nurses available and stayed with the crowd for the duration. Phone calls and emails to US and Europe were available for every one once a day.

During the days the passengers were given a choice of "Excursion" trips. Some people went on boat cruises of the lakes and harbors. Some went to see the local forests. Local bakeries stayed open to make fresh bread for the guests. Food was prepared by all the residents and brought to the school for those who elected to stay put. Others were driven to the eatery of their choice and fed. They were given tokens to go to the local Laundromat to wash their clothes, since their luggage was still on the aircraft.

In other words every single need was met for those unfortunate travelers. Passengers were crying while telling us these stories. After all that, they were delivered to the airport right on time and without a single one missing or late. All because the local Red Cross had all the information about the goings on back at Gander and knew which group needed to leave for the airport at what time. Absolutely incredible.

When passengers came on board, it was like they had been on a cruise. Everybody knew everybody else by their name. They were swapping stories of their stay, impressing each other with who had the better time. It was mind boggling. Our flight back to Atlanta looked like a party flight. We simply stayed out of their way. The passengers had totally bonded and they were calling each other by their first names, exchanging phone numbers, addresses, and email addresses. And then a strange thing happened. One of our business class passengers approached me and asked if he could speak over the PA to his fellow passengers. We never, never, allow that. But something told me to get out of his way. I said "of course".


The gentleman picked up the PA and reminded everyone about what they had just gone through in the last few days. He reminded them of the hospitality they had received at the hands of total strangers. He further stated that he would like to do something in return for the good folks of the town of Lewisporte.

He said he was going to set up a Trust Fund under the name of DELTA 15 (our flight number). The purpose of the trust fund is to provide a scholarship for high school students of Lewisporte to help them go to college. He asked for donations of any amount from his fellow travelers. When the paper with donations got back to us with the amounts, names, phone numbers and addresses, it totaled to $14.5K or about $20K Canadian. The gentleman who started all this turned out to be an MD from Virginia. He promised to match the donations and to start the administrative work on the scholarship. He also said that he would forward this proposal to Delta Corporate and ask them to donate as well.

I just wanted to share this story because we need good stories right now. It gives me a little bit of hope to know that some people in a faraway place were kind to some strangers who literally dropped in on them. In spite of all the rotten things we see going on in today’s world this story confirms that there are still a lot of good people in the world and when things get bad, they will come forward.

VIDEO REPORTS:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PUmCgQp5iNg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0O6mU-5k4kk

CONTRIBUTED BY:
Paz, a dear Inspiration Line reader who lives in the Philippines

REPRINTED FROM:
www.NewYorkTimes.com
www.Snopes.com

Saturday, July 14, 2012

MAKING A DIFFERENCE: In South Africa




THE ELEPHANT WHISPERER

Lawrence Anthony, a legend in South Africa, bravely rescued wildlife and rehabilitated elephants all over the globe from human atrocities, including the courageous rescue of Baghdad Zoo animals during US invasion in 2003. On March 7, 2012, Lawrence Anthony died. He is remembered and missed by his wife, 2 sons, 2 grandsons and numerous elephants.

Two days after his passing, the wild elephants showed up at his home led by two large matriarchs. Separate wild herds arrived in droves to say goodbye to their beloved man-friend. A total of 20 elephants had patiently walked over 12 hours through the Zululand bush to get to the South African house of Lawrence Anthony, the conservationist who saved their lives. The formerly violent, rogue elephants, destined to be shot a few years ago as pests, were rescued and rehabilitated by Anthony. For two days the herds loitered at Anthony's rural compound on the vast Thula Thula game reserve in the South African KwaZulu — to say goodbye to the man they loved. But how did they know he had died? Known for his unique ability to calm traumatized elephants, Anthony had become a legend.


Witnessing this spectacle, humans were obviously in awe, not only because of the supreme intelligence and precise timing that these elephants sensed about Lawrence 's passing, but also because of the profound memory and emotion the beloved animals evoked in such an organized way:  Walking slowly — for days — making their way in a solemn one-by-one queue from their habitat to his house. Lawrence's wife, Francoise, was especially touched, knowing that the elephants had not been to his house prior to that day for well over a year! But yet they knew where they were going. The elephants obviously wanted to pay their deep respects, honoring their friend who'd saved their lives — so much respect that they stayed for 2 days and 2 nights. Then one morning, they left, making their long journey back home.

There are two elephant herds at Thula Thula. According to his son Dylan, both herds arrived at the Anthony family compound shortly after Anthony's death."They had not visited the house for a year and a half and it must have taken them about 12 hours to make the journey," Dylan is quoted in various local news accounts. "The first herd arrived on Sunday and the second herd, a day later. They all hung around for about two days before making their way back into the bush."  Elephants have long been known to mourn their dead. In India, baby elephants often are raised with a boy who will be their lifelong "mahout." The pair develop legendary bonds — and it is not uncommon for one to waste away without a will to live after the death of the other.

Long ago another line of elephants approached the Anthony house, but these were wild elephants in the 21st century, not some Rudyard Kipling novel. The first herd to arrive at Thula Thula several years ago were violent. They hated humans. Anthony found himself fighting a desperate battle for their survival and their trust, which he detailed in The Elephant Whisperer:

"It was 4:45 a.m. and I was standing in front of Nana, an enraged wild elephant, pleading with her in desperation. Both our lives depended on it. The only thing separating us was an 8,000-volt electric fence that she was preparing to flatten and make her escape."Nana, the matriarch of her herd, tensed her enormous frame and flared her ears."'Don't do it, Nana,' I said, as calmly as I could. She stood there, motionless but tense. The rest of the herd froze."'This is your home now,' I continued. 'Please don't do it, girl.' I felt her eyes boring into me.




Anthony, Nana and her calf

"'They'll kill you all if you break out. This is your home now. You have no need to run anymore.'" Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation struck me," Anthony writes. "Here I was in pitch darkness, talking to a wild female elephant with a baby, the most dangerous possible combination, as if we were having a friendly chat. But I meant every word. 'You will all die if you go. Stay here. I will be here with you and it's a good place.'" She took another step forward. I could see her tense up again, preparing to snap the electric wire and be out, the rest of the herd smashing after her in a flash. I was in their path, and would only have seconds to scramble out of their way and climb the nearest tree. I wondered if I would be fast enough to avoid being trampled. Possibly not. Then something happened between Nana and me, some tiny spark of recognition, flaring for the briefest of moments. Then it was gone. Nana turned and melted into the bush. The rest of the herd followed. I couldn't explain what had happened between us, but it gave me the first glimmer of hope since the elephants had first thundered into my life."

It had all started several weeks earlier with a phone call from an elephant welfare organization. Would Anthony be interested in adopting a problem herd of wild elephants? They lived on a game reserve 600 miles away and were "troublesome," recalled Anthony."They had a tendency to break out of reserves and the owners wanted to get rid of them fast. If we didn't take them, they would be shot." The woman explained, 'The matriarch is an amazing escape artist and has worked out how to break through electric fences. She just twists the wire around her tusks until it snaps, or takes the pain and smashes through.'"  'Why me?' I asked."'I've heard you have a way with animals. You're right for them. Or maybe they're right for you.'"  What followed was heart-breaking. One of the females and her baby were shot and killed in the round-up, trying to evade capture.





The French version of "The Elephant Whisperer"

"When they arrived, they were thumping the inside of the trailer like a gigantic drum. We sedated them with a pole-sized syringe, and once they had calmed down, the door slid open and the matriarch emerged, followed by her baby bull, three females and an 11-year-old bull."  Last off was the 15-year-old son of the dead mother. "He stared at us," writes Anthony, "flared his ears and with a trumpet of rage, charged, pulling up just short of the fence in front of us." His mother and baby sister had been shot before his eyes, and here he was, just a teenager, defending his herd. David, my head ranger, named him Mnumzane, which in Zulu means 'Sir.'  We christened the matriarch Nana, and the second female-in-command, the most feisty, Frankie, after my wife. We had erected a giant enclosure within the reserve to keep them safe until they became calm enough to move out into the reserve proper. Nana gathered her clan, loped up to the fence and stretched out her trunk, touching the electric wires. The 8,000-volt charge sent a jolt shuddering through her bulk. She backed off. Then, with her family in tow, she strode the entire perimeter of the enclosure, pointing her trunk at the wire to check for vibrations from the electric current.

"As I went to bed that night, I noticed the elephants lining up along the fence, facing out towards their former home. It looked ominous. I was woken several hours later by one of the reserve's rangers, shouting, 'The elephants have gone! They've broken out!' The two adult elephants had worked as a team to fell a tree, smashing it onto the electric fence and then charging out of the enclosure. I scrambled together a search party and we raced to the border of the game reserve, but we were too late. The fence was down and the animals had broken out. They had somehow found the generator that powered the electric fence around the reserve. After trampling it like a tin can, they had pulled the concrete-embedded fence posts out of the ground like matchsticks, and headed north."


The reserve staff chased them — but had competition. "We met a group of locals carrying large caliber rifles, who claimed the elephants were 'fair game' now. On our radios we heard the wildlife authorities were issuing elephant rifles to staff. It was now a simple race against time." Anthony managed to get the herd back onto Thula Thula property, but problems had just begun:

"Their bid for freedom had, if anything, increased their resentment at being kept in captivity. Nana watched my every move, hostility seeping from every pore, her family behind her. There was no doubt that sooner or later they were going to make another break for freedom. Then, in a flash, came the answer. I would live with the herd. To save their lives, I would stay with them, feed them, talk to them. But, most importantly, be with them day and night. We all had to get to know each other." It worked, as the book describes in detail, notes the London Daily Mail newspaper. Anthony was later offered another troubled elephant — one that was all alone because the rest of her herd had been shot or sold, and which feared humans. He had to start the process all over again. And as his reputation spread, more "troublesome" elephants were brought to Thula Thula.



Anthony is the author of three books, Babylon Ark, detailing his efforts to rescue the animals at Baghdad Zoo during the Iraqi war, the forthcoming The Last Rhinos, and his bestselling The Elephant Whisperer: My Life with the Herd in the African Wild.  

So, how after Anthony's death, did the reserve's elephants — grazing miles away in distant parts of the park — know?  "A good man died suddenly," says Rabbi Leila Gal Berner, Ph.D., "and from miles and miles away, two herds of elephants, sensing that they had lost a beloved human friend, moved in a solemn, almost 'funereal' procession to make a call on the bereaved family at the deceased man's home."





IN HIS ELEMENT: Lawrence Anthony on his KwaZulu-Natal
reserve, relaxing in a game-viewing vehicle with his dog, Tug

"If there ever were a time, when we can truly sense the wondrous 'interconnectedness of all beings,' it is when we reflect on the elephants of Thula Thula. A man's heart's stops, and hundreds of elephants' hearts are grieving. This man's oh-so-abundantly loving heart offered healing to these elephants, and now, they came to pay loving homage to their friend."

His sons say that their father was a remarkable man who lived his life to the fullest and never looked back on any choices he made. He leaves behind his wife Francoise, his two sons, Dylan and Jason, and two grandsons, Ethan and Brogan. Lawrence will be missed by all.

BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN BY ROB KIRBY:
 
http://www.robkerby.com/


CONTRIBUTED BY TREASURED INSPIRATION LINE READER
AND FRIEND, PAZ, WHO LIVES IN THE PHILIPPINES


REPRINTED FROM:

http://delightmakers.com/news-bleat/wild-elephants-gather-inexplicably-mourn-death-of-elephant-whisperer/

READ MORE: 
 http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/9131585/Lawrence-Anthony.html




Saturday, February 18, 2012

MOMENTS THAT MATTER: And They Called It Puppy Love


WOUNDED
PURPLE HEART HERO
Is Reunited With Puppy
He Rescued In Afghanistan

Best friends: Smoke and Donny Eslinger became an instant sensation when this picture appeared on the cover of Army Life magazine after he rescued the dog in Afghanistan

It was a mission just as important as any other they had encountered during their time in Afghanistan. This time the 1-24 Infantry Battalion of the 1st Stryker Brigade Combat Team were determined to reunite soldier Donny Eslinger — who was seriously injured in a mortar attack in September, 2011 — with a puppy he rescued during his deployment called Smoke.

And now it is Smoke's turn to rescue Donny, says his father Seminole County sheriff Don Eslinger Sr, who reunited the puppy with his owner today.

When Donny, who was serving in Afghanistan, encountered the pup in August he fell in love with him then traded three cigarettes for the dog and stashed him in his backpack to hike back to camp.  When a photo of the adorable puppy peering out of the backpack appeared on the cover of Army Life magazine, Smoke became an instant sensation.



Heroes: The pair became inseparable during
the soldier's deployment to Afghanistan

He took care of the dog, whom he named "Smoke Pup Barbarian," until he was critically injured in a mortar attack only a month later on September 24, 2011.  Eslinger suffered a penetrating chest wound, a head injury, broken ribs and a broken leg. He also lost his spleen.



Eslinger has since undergone a number of surgeries, was placed in a medically induced coma and on a ventilator before being transferred to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland.  In October, it was here that President Obama presented him with a Purple Heart after he was hit by mortar fire while on patrol.

Donny was finally able to return to his Florida home to a hero's welcome in December, 2011, just in time for Christmas. He still has some surgery to go through. According to the Sentinel doctors at the Maryland hospital will do exploratory surgery and close his chest wound. Then they will use a titanium plate to replace a portion of his skull that had to be removed because of swelling.

Now his father has made it his job to reunite Donny with the dog in the hope it can boost his spirits in the same way it did the soldiers in Afghanistan.



Helpful: Smoke proved to be a morale booster when a
member of the company was killed the day after he was rescued

That's when Eslinger's squad leader, Staff Sergeant Daniel, wrote to Puppy Rescue Mission. In the letter, Daniel described how he sent Esligner and three other wounded soldiers home while the unit was engaged in a "pretty intense fight with no visible enemy." Daniel described the special relationship Donny and other soldiers in his unit formed with Smoke Pup:

"Smoke was the only bit of moral that made these kids forget where they were and cope with the tragedy we just experienced. It is amazing how therapeutic a little creature can be. Donny took care of that dog up until he was injured. Many of us in his Platoon would love nothing more than to see Smoke reunited with Donny. It would be the only decent thing we would see come from this place ... Donny will have a lot to deal with over the next year and Smoke could be a catalyst for recovery. … It’s funny how something as simple as a puppy can make even the hardest, toughened soldier melt upon a few kisses to the face."

They managed to raise thousands of dollars to fly Smoke to Florida, where Donny's father was there to pick him up so he could reunite him with his son.

Puppy love: Seminole County Sheriff Don Eslinger Sr worked for months to have Smoke returned to his seriously injured son Donny

Puppy love: Seminole County Sheriff Don Eslinger Sr. worked for months to have Smoke returned to his seriously injured son Donny




Morale booster: Sheriff Don Eslinger Sr hopes that reuniting his son with his beloved dog will help the young man with his rehabilitation  

Morale booster: Sheriff Don Eslinger Sr. hopes that reuniting his son with his beloved dog will help the young man with his rehabilitation




Homecoming: Smoke arrived at Orlando International Airport last week five months after it was arranged for him to be reunited with Donny Eslinger 

Homecoming: Smoke arrived at Orlando International Airport
last week five months after it was arranged for
him to be reunited with Donny Eslinger

According to the Orlando Sentinel, the seven-month-old puppy arrived at Orlando International Airport last Wednesday, five months after staff sergeant Daniel organized for him to be returned to his owner.

Donny Sr. said he has arranged to board the dog with a veterinarian near Walter Reed so he can take him to visit his son. Donny has told his dad he can't wait to be reunited with his pup. "What a nice dog, I am so excited to see him and have Donny see him," Eslinger said. "It's going to be great."

Back together again: Donny Eslinger, who was seriously injured by a mortar, is reunited with the dog called Smoke who he rescued during his deployment in Afghanistan

Yet as excited as he was then, the feeling was even better when Smoke got to see Eslinger's son again. Smoke was once a pocket pooch, small enough for Donny to carry around in his backpack before the near-fatal mortar attack. Now, he's back at his master's side. "This dog Smoke will help him heal even faster. He's a strong kid and he's done remarkably well," said Donny's dad.


VIDEO:


PUPPY RESCUE MISSION:


REPRINTED FROM:





Friday, February 3, 2012

BEING THE CHANGE: One Cup at a Time

WEEKLY VISITS FROM COFFEE ANGEL HELP EASE CANCER PATIENTS' PAIN

 

It started with one cup of coffee...   Dan Dewey's dad, Edgar Dewey, sat in a chair with tubes pumping chemotherapy into his veins in the cancer treatment center of St. Joseph Mercy Oakland hospital in Pontiac. His son was with him. As always.

But one Thursday morning in 2007, he told his son he'd like a cup of coffee. Before Dan Dewey left for the Starbucks down the street, they asked other patients in the room whether they'd like a cup, too. "He's treating. I've got his wallet, and the nurse is holding him down," Dewey recalled saying at the time. One cup became several. And now, Dewey's weekly order consists of 20 or more drinks, depending on how many patients are at the cancer center when he arrives. He is there every Thursday morning, even though his dad died in 2008.

"We love Dan," said oncology nurse and unit manager Kathy Courtney. "He's here rain or shine; blizzard or tornado. No matter what's going on out there, we know at 10 o'clock, he's going to be here. We have some patients who schedule their treatments when they know he's going to be here."

And it's not just the java that has the staff and patients looking forward to his visits. It's Dewey, the Orion Township man who jokes with the patients and their caregivers and teases the staff. "He just lights up the room," Courtney said. "He's an inspiration to all of us."
 
  Getting free cups of Starbucks coffee on Thursdays from Dan Dewey is a bright spot for cancer patients at St. Joseph Mercy Oakland hospital in Pontiac. Mechelle Burdette, left, says, "It's so special, it brings tears to your eyes.

Dad's spirit lives on with Dan's Coffee Run:    At 10 a.m. every Thursday —  the same day he usually took his dad for chemotherapy treatment —  Dan Dewey is at the cancer unit of St. Joseph Mercy Oakland hospital in Pontiac, taking coffee orders.

By about 10:30 a.m., he's at the Starbucks down the street. Everyone knows to expect him:   the staff and patients at the hospital, as well as the folks at Starbucks, where workers have come to fill Dewey's orders so efficiently, they rarely get complaints from customers anymore.

But every now and then, someone wonders why that guy in white shorts and a gray sweatshirt is holding up the line buying so many cups of lattes, cappuccinos, espressos, strawberry smoothies, and, oh yeah, somebody wanted hot chocolate.

But the regulars know. And when the complainers find out, well, they fall silent. And some of them put money down to help cover the costs.

Dewey buys the coffee for cancer patients every Thursday because his dad, Edgar Dewey, told him to. Dan Dewey started his weekly runs when his dad was a patient in the center in 2007. And he continues even though his dad died at age 87 in 2008.

His dad had cancer, but the cancer didn't kill him. He conquered cancer twice. Dewey swears he died of a broken heart, just a few months after the passing of his wife of 62 years, Mary Jane Dandison Dewey. He simply lost the will to fight a third bout with cancer after his high school sweetheart died.

But the sweet essence of his heart lives on in Dan's Coffee Run. Dan Dewey, 65, a retired educational broadcasting operator for Birmingham Public Schools, used to pay for the drinks —  averaging about $50 a trip —  out of his own pocket before a Starbucks staffer stepped in.

One of the baristas, Valerie Edgington, 46, of Waterford, decided last year to create a special debit-like card through which people can donate money for coffee runs.

People can put money on the card in person at the Starbucks on Woodward at Square Lake Road in Bloomfield Hills or by visiting Dan's site online: www.DansCoffeeRun.net. Valerie also made T-shirts that sell for $20 and stickers ($5) to help spread the word and encourage contributions.

"He never asked for anything special," Edgington said. "He just came in every Thursday ordering all these different drinks. Finally, I asked him what he was doing, and I wanted to help."

Now there's usually enough money on the card to cover the costs, but when there isn't, Dewey goes back into his own pockets. He has to. See, when his dad was dying, he told him to keep getting drinks for the chemo patients. The coffee warmed his body and his soul. He wanted that for others. So does his son.

The doctors and nurses say there may be something therapeutic about Dewey's visits. "It's definitely a mood-lifter, and a positive attitude is beneficial for any patient going through cancer treatment," said Kathy Courtney, oncology nurse and unit manager.

Oncologist Rajan Krishnan, the doctor who treated Dewey's dad, said the visits remind him of times gone by in his native India, when people stopped by simply to share a cup of tea or coffee. Doing so showed people they mattered.

Krishnan's mom in India misses those days; she recently lamented their loss in a telephone conversation with her doctor-son. "She said no one just stops by to drink tea. They stop by to get my blood pressure, to check the electricity meter. But no one just stops by to share a cup of tea or coffee," he recalled her saying. "Sharing a beverage is a way to say I care about you. And that's what Dan's visit reminds me of."

Back at the hospital, Mechelle Burdette, 45, of Eastpointe savors her hazelnut cappuccino. "This is so sweet," she says of Dewey bringing coffee to her and other cancer patients. She says the kindness warms her heart and gives her strength.

Patients such as Mechelle Burdette, 45, of Eastpointe appreciate that. Burdette was at the center on a recent Thursday with her aunt, Sharon Ralston, 68, who was in from Palm Coast, Fla., helping to care for her. She has Stage 4 cancer —  five brain tumors and a spot on her lung. She was diagnosed in July. Burdette had ordered a hazelnut cappuccino; her aunt ordered a plain latte. "It's my favorite drink," Burdette said. "I love it."

"It's so special it brings tears to your eyes," Burdette said of the coffee visits. "This is so sweet. It really picks you up. It gives you to the strength to make it through, just knowing the kind of people who are out there. It warms your heart." Her aunt, a cancer survivor, said she offered to tip or pay Dewey, but he refused. "He said, 'Oh no. No money touches my hands.' I don't think he's a man. I think he's an angel."

Sharon Donley, 68, of Port Huron was at the center getting treatment for a recurrence of ovarian cancer. She remembers Dewey from when she was treated in the past and was pleased to see he's still making his weekly rounds at the unit. She ordered a plain decaf latte.

"He just brings a smile to your face," Donley said. "It's such a wonderful thing to do for the patients. He brings you coffee, and he makes you laugh. It's such a wonderful thing to know that there's someone who doesn't even know you who cares. It makes a difference because when you're here, you're always a little nervous. And then you have this pleasant familiar experience."

Dewey said bringing coffee isn't just about honoring his dad's wishes. It makes him feel good, too. "If anyone doubts why anybody would do something like this, all you have to do is see these people smile," he said.

Besides, what else would he do with his time and money? "I don't smoke or drink or gamble," said Dewey, who is single and has no children. "All I do is run marathons and this." He ran his 27th marathon last month when he did the Detroit Free Press/Talmer Bank Marathon.

Earlier this year, he also added making periodic trips to Beaumont Hospital's Rose Cancer Center in Royal Oak because a patient there heard of his visits to St. Joseph and asked him to visit there, too.

Why Starbucks? "Well, the whole point of Starbucks is that it is special. I could get coffee any place, even out of the machines. But when you're stuck in a chair getting chemo, it's not fun. I want to add a little — what's the word? —  panache. It's not just, 'Here's the coffee.' It's a little bit extra. The whole idea is to make them feel special. "

And that he does.

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Here's another story to honor World Cancer Day:

"Beautiful & Bald Barbie" Facebook Phenomenon Teams up with 11-year old YouTube Singer to "Change This World" for Young Girls Fighting Cancer


LOS ANGELES — When 11-year old, singer and songwriter Miranda Finn wrote a song and posted a video on YouTube, she had no idea her song, "Maybe I Can Change this World," was so aptly named. Four days later, Jane Bingham, the woman leading the Facebook charge for Mattel to produce a "Beautiful and Bald" Barbie with a bald head in support of pediatric cancer patients suffering from hair loss, contacted Miranda to ask to use it as their "theme song."

Beautiful and Bald Barbie is a movement on Facebook  working towards convincing Mattel to create a "Barbie" or "Barbie type doll" that is bald to support those suffering from alopecia, cancer, and trichotillomania. The goal of this "Barbie" is for all children to know that bald is beautiful and to be better equipped to deal with their own hair loss or that of a loved one. They envision some portion of the proceeds from this doll would go to pediatric cancer research.

Visit Miranda Finn's Website HERE
See Her Sing "Change the World" VIDEO HERE
Miranda's YouTube Channel HERE

"We — and our 140,000 supporters — have been working hard to raise awareness of the need for a bald Barbie doll for young girls," said Ms. Bingham who is battling an incurable form of lymphoma and whose 9-year old daughter watched her go bald from treatment. 

"When a friend sent a link to the YouTube video of Miranda singing, 'Maybe I Can Change This World,' it just fit," she added. "We want to change this world and make a difference in the lives of woman and girls suffering from cancer and other diseases that cause hair loss," said Ms. Bingham.

Miranda and song co-writers, mom Robin Finn and music producer Avishay Goren, were delighted to lend support to such a worthy cause. "I was so sad to hear about kids fighting cancer and going through so much, including losing their hair," said Miranda Finn. "It makes me happy to think my song can make them smile."