Memorial Day 2021 ... Elmer Bigelow and the importance of the day

Every Memorial Day, I try to continue instill in my children the idea of the immense sacrifice so many have made in service to our nation.

We are incredibly blessed to have many, many members of the military – active duty, retired, and veterans – who provide a positive role model for my girls, and who instill that sense of pride in our country and respect for those who serve.

Because of this, my girls take a vested interest in military history. They have spent time talking with those who serve and understand the physical, emotional, and invisible toll it takes on the men and women who take that oath.

This year, I was able to write about Medal of Honor recipient US Navy Water Tender Second Class Elmer Bigelow.  He saved the USS Fletcher from demise – and allowed it to serve the country in both WWII and Korea, but forfeited his own life. A Hebron native, Elmer and his brother Lester both enlisted in the US Navy. Elmer and Lester met outside of Corregidor during WWII just before Elmer died battling a blaze in the powder cases after taking enemy fire. 

As so often happens, I was blessed to find that Lester’s son Scott was in town the day I was writing this piece for The Woodstock Independent.  Scott met me to see his father’s and his uncle’s uniforms on display at our local sweet shop, The Sugar Circle. 

In talking, I realized that Lester had his own story – aboard the USS West Virginia during the bombing of Pearl Harbor, stationed on the USS Minneapolis which saw intense battle all over the Pacific, and, serving on the Hornet, where he last saw his brother Elmer. 

How hard it must have been for Lester to have seen all that he had and to have lost a brother, too.  The USS Bigelow was named after his brother. Stories would be told. And, from what Scott told me, Lester let his own stories become the background while Elmer’s remained in the foreground.

That is the very definition of Memorial Day. 

Gold Star families suffer much.  I think of Brittany Jacobs, whose husband USMC Sgt. Christopher Jacobs was killed in a training accident. His son never really knew his father. I think I think of people I’ve met whose sons were killed in action – US Army Cpl. Keith Nurnberg, USMC Cpl. C.J. Boyd – and I’ve met countless others whose dear friends have not returned from shared missions. 

I am committed to not letting their names go unspoken. Their lives live on because of their sacrifice. 

For a few days longer, the Woodstock Square will have uniforms up in windows. Some have passed on, some offer to put up their uniforms to honor those who did not return. It is a somber reminder that, in the midst of service, there is grave danger … and we are the home of the free because of those brave. 

Vietnam Veterans Day, Operation Wild Horse 2021

On March 29, 1973, the last United States troops were withdrawn from Vietnam. In 2017, President Trump signed into law that National Vietnam War Veterans Day would be honored every March 29.

Though Vietnam veterans answered the call of their country, the homecoming for these men and women would be overwhelmingly unsavory. In a war that lasted nearly 20 years, the U.S. suffered more than 58,000 causalities, endured the pain of 1,253 MIAs and 2,500 POWs, and incurred more than 304,000 wounded. The U.S. government would confer 238 Medals of Honor upon those who served.

The Department of Veterans Affairs estimates that there are more than 6 million U.S. Vietnam veterans alive today.

These Vietnam veterans are a unique group. Many were drafted. Some suffered physical wounds, some were permanently disabled, many struggle with the continued and long-lasting effects of Agent Orange Exposure, and many continue to deal with the invisible wounds of war – namely, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder – after years of batting through readjustment problems that never were given a name.

Still many emerged as holding important roles in the U.S. including Jim Nicholson, Frederick W. Smith, John McCain and Colin Powell. 

But the common thread is that they all were involved in a grueling war and returned to an unsupportive nation, some taking off their uniforms never to put them on again, in an effort to hide their service.  I have personally interviewed Vietnam veterans who were spat upon, yelled at, and ridiculed at airports. I’ve heard the anger rise up as they speak. I’ve seen the tears that well up, fifty years or more after the experience.

In recent years, these men and women have worked hard to ensure that no soldier returns home to a similar experience. They have dedicated their lives to supporting troops and organizing parades. They also have begun to talk more frequently about their service and share their stories.

Two of these veterans – George and Marty, who found healing and respite at an organization called Operation Wild Horse in Bull Valley, Illinois – recently shared a sliver of their stories with me.

George, drafted by the U.S. Army, had a difficult time readjusting. In Vietnam, George was a “tunnel rat.” These men notoriously performed underground search and destroy missions, but coming home, George found it difficult to work for and, sometimes with, others. Eventually he started his own business, but in the interim, George suffered the breakdown of his first marriage, raised his children alone before remarrying, and then, recently, found peace alongside wild mustangs. 

The irony resounds, but mustangs have long represented American freedom. Though domesticated, they still remember the fight or flight response that facilitated survival in the wild – and, veterans know that feeling all too well. Vietnam veterans, in particular, feel it. 

Hardened by their experiences, they distrust before they trust. They often live an unsettled life. They sit with their back toward the wall. They are skeptical of motives. People can put on a façade. 

But mustangs don’t judge. Mustangs don’t lie

U.S. Marine and Vietnam veteran Marty looks these mustangs in the eye. He told me that he didn’t realize he could love something so big so much. They don’t judge him on his past or on his current struggles. They meet him where he is. They know the struggles of survival – because they’ve been there, too.  They’ve fought to stay alive … much like these Vietnam veterans. Marty’s bond has grown so close that he spends his own money that, in the past, he might have used to buy alcohol, on fresh vegetables and fruit for the horses at Operation Wild Horse.  He told me that it has kept him sober.

These are the stories that touch me. These men, who endured much, on foreign soil on which they never asked to set foot, who fought for a country who failed to welcome them home, who sacrificed everything as they followed their commanders, who now are finding ways to make peace with the anger – they are the men who inspire me.

Click here to read the article I recently wrote about George, Marty, and Operation Wild Horse – learn how organizations like OWH are struggling during this pandemic, but continue to meet the very important needs of veterans of all eras. To learn more about the organization or to learn how you can support them, please visit: operationwildhorse.org

In my many years of working with and interviewing Vietnam veterans, I’ve found big hearts under gruff exteriors. I’ve found extraordinary stories buried deep under dense barriers. I’ve found tried and true friendships after a slowly developed trust. It has been one of the greatest joys of my life – to listen to these stories and to discover the strength and courage that lies beneath the “Vietnam Veteran” label. For some, it defines their entire existence. For some, it remains a hidden part of their past.  For others, they wear the title with dignity. For still others, it has become so seamlessly woven into the fabric of their lives that the title is just one of many they wear well. 

Today is a day to remember and honor these men and women. If you know a Vietnam veteran -or a Vietnam-era veteran, thank them. Listen to them. Welcome them home.

All veterans who served from November 1, 1955 through May 15, 1975 are recognized today – regardless of location. 

“To ensure the sacrifices of the 9 million heroes who served during this difficult chapter of our country’s history are remembered for generations to come, I signed into law the Vietnam War Veterans Recognition Act of 2017, designating March 29 of each year as National Vietnam War Veterans Day. Throughout this Commemoration of the 50th Anniversary of the Vietnam War, and every March 29 thereafter, we will honor all those who answered our Nation’s call to duty.” -President Trump

The Accidental Hiker

Prior to COVID-19, I had never been on a hike. I actually mean never.

My family wasn’t a hiking family when I was growing up. I enjoyed inside sports like volleyball and dance. I was in theater and played piano. The extent of my outside enjoyment was some sand volleyball and the occasional trip round the neighborhood on rollerblades. I can’t even think of a time when I sought even a paved trail on which to walk.

My husband often asked, but, I didn’t really see the point. I’d much rather head to the gym to avoid the sun. Plus, hiking means that you have to deal with bugs and animals and the elements.

Fast-forward several years later and we are in the height of a global pandemic – no gyms, no restaurants, no coffee shops, no inviting people over into your home, no in-person work meetings. Just us. In our home. Every day.

Enter friends who want to walk at our local park.

If you guessed that I’ve never gone for a walk on the trail at our community park, you would be correct. I’ve always worried that I’d get lost.

But with my friend by my side, I set out to walk on the pavement, and, as I did, I enjoyed the fresh air on my face, the wind in my hair and the beauty of nature all around me. But it was safe on the pavement – no twigs to trip over, no rocks to jump into my shoes, no uneven footing. 

It wasn’t long before my husband came along with our kids and we were a walking family. 

But then, he asked if we could go on a hike. 

Um, a hike? I’m pretty comfy with the path. I can find my way back to my car. I know how many miles it is. I know where the hills are and how to navigate that one area that crosses over gravel. A hike is pretty nature-y. 

I wasn’t keen on it, but our kids were game, so we set off to a local nature preserve to, um, hike.

Oh, it wasn’t all beauty in the beginning. Sure, there were beautiful things to see, and flowers and ornate trees, and wide-open prairies. But it also was hot and humid, long, and filled with some grumbling. But we followed the trail with all its twists and turns – thanks to my husband (I’ve gotten lost in the easiest of situations), and we felt a kind of serene closeness as a family in the middle of all that nature – alone, but noticing the beauty of God’s creation and the history that accompanies the various land formations. 

We started being a little more outdoorsy. I began to notice the changes in our activities as a family. We began to appreciate the nice days so much more, and we took nightly walks and explored a little more.

Then, I was kind of hooked.

I have been running for a few years with some breaks in between, but I’m a strictly pavement runner. Read: I run the neighborhood.

What I don't do is run in the winter over ice and snow ... so ... could you even hike in the winter?

I soon found that the weather has provided snow and a whole new way to look at the paths we saw over the summer and fall. 

Assessment: it is gorgeous!

As an accidental hiker, I learned a couple of things about winter hiking. (And, since the groundhog was right, and an early spring seems imminent, you might want to grab some of these things on clearance for next year!) 

1. There is a reason people pay for more expensive coats. When you are out for a long-ish time, you need to be well insulated.

2. The big-box store snow boots might not cut it. I had to visit the resale shops and online second-hand stores to purchase some decent boots for my oldest and for myself.

3. You should invest in ice cleats. They aren’t a huge investment, but they will make you thankful for the $15 purchase.

4. Bring water – AND snacks. (You may want to invest in a nice, sturdy, lightweight backpack to hold your water, snacks, bandages, sunscreen and pony holders.)

5. Wear layers that can be easily removed or unzipped. Trust me.

6. Fresh air is amazing – by yourself, with family, with friends, or with random people you meet along the way.

7. The hardest hike is the first one. After that, you {kind of} know what you are doing.

8. Bring a map. Maybe it is just me, but I like to have one so I know how long certain trails are.

9. Breathe.

10. Enjoy. And, if you feel like hiking isn’t for you, find something else that refreshes your soul. And then, enjoy that!

You’re welcome :)

No Pain Without Purpose

No pain without purpose ~ Erin Carey 

I have to tell you about a woman I recently met.

We didn’t meet because we ran into one another. We didn't meet because our paths casually crossed. We didn’t even meet because friends introduced us and thought we’d be great friends.

It was a traumatic event that would put our paths on a collision course as I was allowed to share her story.

Kellyn is a patient care technician who works on a COVID floor. She sits with patients after her shift, so they are not alone. She holds their hands when their family can’t be there. She comforts and soothes and smiles. She is a ray of hope.

On her day off, she chose to help a mom in need by offering to babysit during remote learning. After school, the unthinkable happened.

Kellyn was attacked by the family dog – a dog that she knew and who had never bitten before. 

I contacted her to see if she would like to share her story with the paper, and, seemingly without hesitation, she called me on her way back home from an appointment at Northwestern Medicine Chicago. 

She had been attacked a mere five days prior, had received over 100 stitches, and lost most of her nose in the attack, but, when she called me, I would have never known. 

Confident, cheerful, and full of hope, Kellyn went over every dreadful minute with me – I didn’t expect her to, but she did. She matter-of-factly stated that she would likely need 20 procedures including one that would require removing cartilage from her ear to create the missing bridge of her nose and obtaining skin, probably from her forehead, to cover that area.

I’m not a medical person, but Kellyn is. When she invited me to her parents’ house to photograph her, I admit, I was skeptical that this was the place for me. Her mom answered the door, though, and immediately made me feel … well, like part of the family. 

I photographed her while she explained her medicines and ointments, as she went over her daily medical journal with her mom, and as she worked out with a pedal cycle -- her Kellyn-ton! You guys, I cannot imagine what it is like to be in her footsteps, and I know she has downright awful days, but she has to be one of the strongest people I’ve met.

Soon, we were talking about her job and her new husband. Her mom asked me about my family. We found out we had a lot of friends in common – and that she had homeschooled for a time as well. We talked about how her husband also worked at the hospital and that all of her nursing friends were extraordinarily interested in her wound care. I, however, was not.

But their faith, courage, and strength was undeniable. 

Her mother, Erin, kept saying that they don’t believe that pain is without purpose, and that she knew that God would Kellyn’s experience and story for good.

Wow.

I don’t say this often, but, my life was dramatically impacted that afternoon. I was inspired. Two of her sisters were there, and they chatted with me about their own lives and their own battles. This was a family who knew how to persevere.

Their witness to faith was powerful and introspective. Having gone through some difficult times with my own daughter’s health, I recently had been feeling as though we were just “getting by” and “getting through.” But this family … this family was thriving – and Kellyn was smiling – smiling. Oh, how I needed to see how that faith in action looked.

I haven’t known Kellyn and her mom for more than a week, but that is long enough to wish that I had known them my whole life. 

Kellyn, Erin, and Kyla, you inspired me in so many ways. Your ability to overcome, to share the fact that you have difficult moments that you aren’t hiding from, to put your faith in God, to share your story with a stranger – you have reached in and touched my heart in ways I never could have imagined. I know your story is going to inspire others. The road won’t be easy. I know that even the most optimistic hearts have moments of anguish. But, God will bring you through this – and the incredible support team of your husband, family, friends, and community will be there, too. 

Let there be no pain without purpose. 

Paczki Day

 

It is a weird name for a day: Fat Tuesday or Paczki Day.

I get the traditional implications -- we have 40 days of fasting from something  (or adding something to our daily life) ahead of us if you are a Lent person.

Growing up in a Polish family, Paczki was a thing. I remember that glorious day when my mom would order a once-a-year bakery box of those deliciously jelly-filled donuts sprinkled with powdered sugar and just begging for consumption after dinner.  

Thankfully, in the throngs of raising babies, my mom continued to order them -- and deliver these sweet treats every year.

Somewhere along the way, there were forgotten orders, which made me wonder if I could make them myself. So I looked up some recipes, and I baked them myself. Because, I'm kind of stubborn like that.

It has become a tradition now -- and the kids look forward to my baked Paczki, perhaps even more than the bakery variety. This year, we filled them with seedless black raspberry preserves, and I made custard to add as well. I have this preserve/custard inserter thing that I have no idea where I might have acquired it, but it is pulled out religiously (haha) every Monday before Ash Wednesday to add that wonderful filling to this baked pastry that we all enjoy without really even thinking of the concept of Fat Tuesday.

It is, rather, a fun thing to do with my girls before we embark on this journey of Lent. I enjoy this season because I can almost taste the sweetness that comes at the end of this period of desolation. 

For me, the Paczki represents that celebratory time when all is well in our faith life and things just seem to go as planned and the jelly is that bonus day when our faith radiates and we have no doubt. Ash Wednesday, though, is the start of the drought. None of us are immune. There are times when the shadows of life cast doubt on the faith I cling to during the difficult times. There are moments when my fear overshadows my belief. There are days when I find myself struggling to pray. There are mornings when my coffee doesn't get me through my morning devotion. And then... one day leads to another and another and another ... until that one day, when something calls me back -- not to the faith, I've never lost faith, it is just hard to lean into sometimes. It calls me back to the practice. The daily practice of drawing in to Christ.

It's a hard fall -- from Paczki to "You are dust and to dust you shall return." It's a hard fall from living on the adrenaline of a strong prayer life to struggling to find the motivation to pick up your Bible. But we all go through it. And, tonight, we celebrate that spiritual high -- the sweetness and the richness of filling our lives with joy just like we stuff that Paczki full of jelly.

Happy Paczki Day, ya'll!

The Lessons I Learned from 'Groundhog Day' -- 2021 Reflection

I grew up close to where ‘Groundhog Day’ was filmed. My parents took us to watch some of the filming – see very dated photo of me with Mr. Bill Murray in the background.

I'm guessing I had no idea who Bill Murray was, but my father -- to whom the photo credit goes -- likely was pretty excited.

Since then, I’ve moved to the town, reported on the festival for many years, and had opportunity to interview many involved with the film as well as visitors who come just to see the site.

Over the last several years I’ve met two guys from New York who bonded in grade school over the movie and made a pilgrimage here for several years just for the festival, a couple from Germany who celebrate their anniversary on Feb. 2 and came to Woodstock last year to enjoy Groundhog Days, a man who painted sets for the movie back in 1992, the locations manager for ‘Groundhog Day’ Bob Hudgins who has all the stories, the stuntman who leapt out of the bell tower for Murray, the chairman of the Groundhog Days committee, and, of course, Stephen Tobolowsky.  Most recently, I was able to interview a McHenry county native who had a role in the movie – and a star on her trailer.

It’s been a whirlwind. 

I had only watched the movie but one time before last year. It wasn’t a film I felt I needed to watch again and again, however, after listening to Tobolowsky, Hudgins, and the stuntman (let me tell you that that bell tower is a LOT higher when you are standing in it!), I thought I would watch it another time.

After giving it a second viewing last year, and I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. This year, the kids asked to watch it, so we had a movie night, and, much to my surprise, I enjoyed it even more. First, there is the fact that we walk by all of the places Phil Connors does, and it is fun to see our Square on television. Then there is the fact that we know some of the people – and know the stories behind the stories. But the thing that impressed me most this go-around was that I’d watched Murray and Tobolowsky run scenes for the Jeep commercial last year. I saw the way they interacted. I saw the way they goofed around, and I also saw how they got the job done. And then I saw the final product – and it was a great perspective on life. I spent a long time chatting with Tobolowsky, and the way he spoke about the message of the movie truly inspired me. 

So this third time I watched it brought more contemplation. 

As I watched the day on repeat, I reflected on the ways in which Phil Connors changes. 

Perhaps it was because I had just spoken with Angela Gollan – the piano student who gets shoved out of her lesson so Connors can learn to play, but I took another, more in-depth look at some of the other “minor” characters and how they were impacted throughout the film. 

Those ‘minor’ characters begin to seep into the very fibers of Connor’s being.  Oh, not at first. In the beginning, Connors is merely trying to do whatever it takes to get out of February 2. Then, his goal shifts to trying win over Rita, eventually using the information he has to manipulate the situation. When none of this brings about change or happiness, he attempts to get away with whatever he can and, eventually, tries to kill himself – all with the same result: Each morning, he awakes at 6 a.m. on February 2. It is a never-ending cycle. Then, a unique thing begins to happen:  he starts to notice people. He doesn’t just pass them by, he really notices them – what they need, who they are, why they are who they are. He begins to take a vested interest in their happiness as he grows to know them a little more each day. He tries to make a difference in their lives even though he knows it will only be forgotten as the day begins again. But, he knows. And, that is all that matters.

On his last day repeating February 2, Connors actions are determined, not by the crazy desire to do things he knows will never kill him, not by the idea that he could try to impress Rita, not by his fascination with becoming the center of attention with his eccentric Groundhog Day broadcast; no, his actions are determined by the people with whom he’s interacted day after day.

He grows to care about the homeless man who he once passed by with disgust. He manages to catch a boy falling out of tree to prevent his broken leg, he helps change a flat tire, he saves the mayor from choking on a piece of steak. He doesn’t have to do this. They will all have another chance at life the next morning. Perhaps in taking the opportunity to develop skills in areas he never would have pursued before, he becomes a man who finds joy in using the full potential of his life to make a difference in the lives of others. 

On that day, it seems that everyone who is anybody – and anyone who isn’t anybody –  knows Phil Connors, but to Phil, life is no longer a popularity contest. He acts from the heart – and that catapults him into February 3.

That message resonated with me ever so much more this year. We are coming up on the anniversary of a year where many of us have been isolated, working from home, separated from the ones we love, and masked when out. This is hard. Our souls were not meant to do this life alone. We are a social people. When you smile with your eyes at the grocery store, when you send a card to someone unexpectedly, when you text a friend out of the blue, when you stop to think about what someone needs and not just what you could do, when you wave from across the street – that is the message of ‘Groundhog Day’. It means caring even when it is hard. It means repeatedly washing laundry or making dinner or catching someone falling out of a tree – even when we are never thanked for it. It means remembering someone’s name and treating them with respect – because you know you could change the outcome of someone’s day, or, even, their life. It means being reckless with your love – showing up, getting to know the person beyond the façade, caring about who they really are, and letting them know that they are worth getting to know.

Today, no matter if the groundhog sees his shadow or not (If you are curious, Woodstock Willie did NOT see his shadow, which means – there will be an early spring!), I encourage you to be the sunshine in someone’s life. Smile. Buy a cup of coffee for someone. Say, ‘hello.’ Send a text. Write a letter. In the end, life is more about the way we care for others than it ever will be about what we accomplish. 

Thanks, Phil Connors, for teaching us so much about life.

The town square -- just a little ways away from where Gobbler's Knobb was set up.

The crowd gathering during the pandemic Prognostication.

Our Mayor, proudly interpreting Groundhoguese. 

Woodstock Willie, Mark Szafran with his groundhog, Groundhog Days Committee Chairman Rick Bellairs.

Stephen Tobolowsky came for the weekend in 2019:)

Stuntman Rick LeFevour returning the the Bell Tower last year.

Rick ... leaning out of the bell tower! Eek!

Brian Doyle-Murray and Bill Murray arrive on set last year in Woodstock.

Stephen Tobolowsky and Bill Murray -- reunited again -- in Woodstock.