A moment frozen in time....

September 11th harbors a storehouse of varied emotions.

One thing that strikes me, however, is how vivid that day is in my mind and how it feels like a collective memory despite the fact that an entire generation knows of the tragedy only through pictures or internet posts or books.

For those of us who have first-hand memories -- even if, like me, you were far away from the events -- there was real fear about what would happen next. There were skies with no planes. There were radios and televisions being turned on and phone calls being made. 

We lived history.

There is insurmountable sadness and agonizing loss juxtaposed with incredible courage and unthinkable selflessness flowing from the video footage that already looks dated, news broadcasts that illuminate the lack of instant communication at the time, social media clips with grainy photos, and audio recordings somehow salvaged from the day.

Yet, even though I feel part of that collective conscious that seems like yesterday, I recognize that my emotions have changed over time.

A couple of years ago, I met a Pentagon survivor whose foundation -- American Pride, Inc. -- published 9/11 Survivors' Stories; Midwest Memories.

I have written about this book before, but one thing that weighs heavy on my mind is the constant wrestling of emotion that is palpable throughout the body of work.  Eight individuals with ties to the Midwest share very different and uniquely compelling stories about their survival.  From being in the Tower to being in the Pentagon, to being on the phone, I was taken on a journey fueled by anger, gratitude, fear, and hope.

I saw so much more through their eyes. 

It moved me differently.

Reading personal accounts of those whose lives were forever altered, who lost friends, who felt anger toward the media, and who needed to use the experiences to help others has changed me.

It has been 22 years since that day, but I remember it clearly. The events of that day are etched in my mind -- frozen in time. I have been molded by the emotions of that day, yet life and experience has molded those emotions, too. 

I know how I felt that day when my students were scared and we were getting piecemeal information in a pre-internet-accessible classroom. But because of books, because of newspaper articles, because of interviews, because of survivors who courageously tell their stories, and because of victims' families who keep their loved ones' memories alive,  I have a deeper awareness of the still-gaping wounds, unspeakable grief, unparallelled courage, deep gratitude, insurmountable hope, and incredible forgiveness.  

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It seemed fitting, then, that when we were driving home last night on the eve of 9/11, we happened to stop at a place we'd seen time and time again along the road. For four years, I'd meant to stop, but, last night, we did. I was moved by the newly lit candles carefully placed around the first responder memorial plaques I didn't know were there. As I thought about the gentle light burning so intensely in the cool breeze, I prayed. I prayed for those who rush in when others rush out. I prayed for those who selflessly walk into danger to bring others to safety. I prayed for those who care for others putting their own lives in peril.  I prayed for those who quietly harbor the difficult memories -- who walk among us never speaking of their experiences, but, knowing how fragile live is, protect it with the very same intensity with which these flames burn. And I prayed for those who bring light into the dark places with their words, their actions, and their presence.

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When we are overcome with despair or grief or anger, I pray that we are able to find a way to let light in -- no matter how small those cracks may be. Because light, once it gently breaks through, has a way of spilling into the darkest of spaces -- just like the light of these candles.

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Today, I will

Never forget those who protect life.

Seek hope.

Love endlessly.

Be a light in the darkness.

Allow light to seep into the desperation.

 

Memorial Day means carrying on the stories that keep legacies alive

Memorial Day walks in on the heels of graduations, weird Midwest springs, the planting season, and end-of-the-year excitement. 

But I’ve come to know Memorial Day as one of the most difficult days and one of the most important days … a day to remember those who have lost their lives in service to our country.

As a writer and photographer for various publications, I’ve written military-themed articles for years. 

My writing about veterans began with a Marine that I wrote about for VFW Magazine  and was quickly followed by my piece in Leatherneck Magazine 

It was writing those two pieces that changed the course of my writing passion.

While many veterans are reticent to talk about the loss they endured or the injuries – both visible and invisible – they sustained, I have been incredibly blessed that a vast number of veterans have trusted me enough to tell me their story – and, subsequently the stories of those who never made it home – stories of anguish and guilt.

That heavy weight presses deep on my heart.

But, in so very many of these stories, I am privileged to share hope. Loss is not the end. These men and women are the links to the stories that need to be shared. They can impart the meaning of sacrifice and they can impress upon us the legacy of those who paid the ultimate price.

I just wrote a piece for The Woodstock Independent that will come out Wednesday about a Woodstock man killed in Pearl Harbor. That name is known on Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam, yet I had never heard of him. I set out on a journey of 36 hours to gather enough information to tell his story. But it has been nearly 82 years. First-person stories have long since vanished, and those who are left remember the man’s brothers – not much about a man named Joe who gave his life on December 7, 1941 as he knelt on the altar preparing for Sunday Mass. 

I worked through scores of World War II articles and clippings found in scrapbooks at the library – thank you to whoever took the time to piece them together, and, again to whoever graciously donated them to the library instead of tossing them. I reached out to the McHenry County Historical Society who knew my very short deadline and got me some information pretty quickly. I used databases to collect articles written in other locations. I reached out to a sweet friend who works with the military on Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam who then reached out to another friend to take some photos for me. And, when I met with Joe’s great-nephew, I held artifacts this man had on his body when he was killed. 

His death was significant. 

Today we remember those who have lost their lives in service. I also remember that, on Memorial Day, some veterans are struggling with the pain of loss and horrific memories that haunt them. They remember those who did not come home with them. And they remember those whose lives were cut short due to physical and emotional injuries. 

The heavy cost of war is great.

Our freedoms were fought for by our military. Today, I remember the sacrifice – and I will remember those who have returned carrying with them the greatest burden of all … keeping the memory of those who perished alive. To the many men and women who have trusted me to share their stories and the stories of their fallen family and friends, thank you. 

It's Planting Season

It is planting season here in the Midwest. Ten years ago, I might have never thought about it, but, now, I feel like I’m immersed in agriculture.

Why?

I write for a local paper – which has led to a busy freelance career. But it has been writing for the local paper that has instilled in me a love of farm fields and pastures.

Through that I’ve come to meet so many wonderful people who are living a life that many of us may never experience. Through their stories, I have learned to appreciate the challenging but rewarding life of a farming family.

I don’t want to downplay the hard work that farmers put in day after day – they are out in the field planting, monitoring, testing, and ensuring that the crops are thriving … every. single. day. They study the most efficient way to plant. They treat their seeds to help protect them as they grow. They work on equipment, plan for the season, and spend countless hours in the fields between planting and harvest time. It is often-times grueling and stressful work. Their income is decided by that hard work and planning, but it is also at the mercy of nature. 

I want to be very clear that I recognize the challenges and hardships woven into this lifestyle, because I have a tendency to over-idealize it. 

One thing I admire about the farm families that I know is how close-knit they are.  They are bound like the rows of seeds – relying upon one another. They are the sun and the soil and the rain for one another. No one is ever planted on sandy ground – they are rooted in the love of family and friends, and, often, grounded in the heart of faith.

I’ve watched as farmwives deliver meals to their husbands in the middle of a farm field. I’ve witnessed the care with which husbands treat their wives – so appreciative of the sacrifices they make and the steadfast strength they provide. I’ve seen children learn the value of hard work and know the joy of raising an animal or watching a corn stalk grow from a seed they planted.  I’ve listened to the stories of adversity, and I’ve heard the stories of legacy farms with rich histories. Most importantly to me, I’ve seen many a farmer spend Sundays at church – even when they could be out harvesting or planting – because they thank God for the harvest and they thank God for the land, animals, and crops that He provides. 

So when a farm friend of mine mentioned a Rogation Day at a Lutheran church in the area, my research-driven brain kicked in.

As it turns out, the Catholic Church long celebrated Rogation Days as an opportunity to bless the fields that are about to be or are already planted – and to ask God for His mercy over all creation.

Beginning in the year 598 A.D., part of the day would include a procession over fields and ploughed land.  It was met with fasting and litanies as the community would ask for God’s blessing and mercy for clement weather and crop deliverance from destruction and concluded with Mass. 

While the practice has fallen to the wayside, I recently found some beautiful prayers in Kendra Tierney’s Catholic All Year Prayer Companion for The Major Rogation Day celebrated on April 25th. 

I love this prayer for a Sprouting Seed

To you, O Lord, we cry and pray: Bless this sprouting seed, strengthen it in the gentle movement of soft winds, refresh it with the dew of Heaven, and let it grow to full maturity for the good of the body and soul. Amen. 

 

How beautiful is this?! You could use it with your toddler as you plant a seed and water it, anticipating its bloom. You could use it when you start your herb garden. You can use it as you plant your farm field sprinkling seed across the many acres. 

But I think it is more universal than that. We have souls waiting to sprout. As we travel on this journey, our souls grow, learn, and yearn for purity of heart. We are tiny seeds in God’s beautiful farm field. As we begin to germinate and eventually to bloom with all the radiance of spring, we are sometimes tossed in the wind – sometimes we are shaken so hard that it takes some extra support to straighten us up once again, but sometimes we find courage in the gentle breeze as it tenderly guides us in the direction we need to grow. As God’s mercy washes over us like dew, we begin to take solid root … and we thrive. As we do, we support those around us, and our purpose becomes clear. We are perfectly created -- unique in His farmfield.

I encourage everyone to embrace the growing season. When you find the solid ground on which you are to plant your roots, do so firmly knowing that, despite drought, despite clouds, despite the cold, you will flourish – because God has placed you on that solid ground and He will give you what you need.

Get rooted. Sprout. Grow. Bloom.

The National Shrine of Our Lady of Good Help

It’s been a little while since I’ve blogged ~ and I’ve missed it...

Despite life being busy, our family took a quick pilgrimage to Champion, Wisconsin to the National Shrine of Our Lady of Good Help.

Our life has been filled with commitments, stress, and the busy-ness of daily life as a modern homeschooling and figure-skating family. It isn't easy to carve out time for us to take a day-trip anywhere, but we found ourselves longing to visit one particular place in the Diocese of Green Bay.

With a free day toward the end of my husband’s spring break, we decided to make the journey. So, we got up early to set off, and a couple of hours on a highway, a little further down a long rural road surrounded by farmland and dairy farms on either side, and a few turns later, we were there. We walked into an unassuming little space where, over 100 years ago, Sister Adele Brise, was blessed with a vision of the Blessed Virgin Mary on her way to church one morning. Between two trees, Adele, then a young woman, saw an image that frightened her. She stood still, and the vision slowly faded, leaving behind a white cloud.

The next Sunday, October 9, 1859, Adele reportedly saw the same vision – this time, with her sister Isabel and a neighbor woman beside her. On the way home from Mass, Adele saw the same vision, between the same two trees. The vision spoke to her, and Adele heard the woman in dazzling white with a yellow sash and stars around her head say to her that she was the Queen of Heaven.

She continued to ask Adele to share the gospel message with children and she closed with a phrase that must have given Adele an enormous amount of courage: Go and fear nothing. I will help you.

For the rest of her life, Sister Adele worked to share her faith with others, particularly at St. Mary’s Boarding Academy – a school built near the apparition site, close to the chapel and convent.

One grace bestowed upon the chapel grounds occurred in 1871. With the Great Peshtigo Fire raging, leaving upwards of 2,400 people dead and communities scorched, Sister Adele, her community, and local residents gathered in prayer on the site. Twelve years to the date of Sr. Adele’s last apparition, rains poured down over the grounds, and the animals and people of what is now Champion were saved.

Since then, thousands have flocked to Champion to visit the apparition site – the place where Sr. Adele is buried, where the school she founded and taught at is located, and where the apparition chapel and oratory were built.

The apparition was approved – the only approved apparition site in the United States – in 2010 by the most Reverend David L. Ricken, Bishop of Green Bay who decreed that the apparitions are, “worthy of belief (although not obligator) by the Christian faithful.”

Now, the grounds hold a Fatima Grotto, a rosary walk, a Saint Joseph Grotto, a stations of the cross meditation area, the original school that now holds a café and gift shop, the new Mother of Mercy Hall where conferences, speaking engagements, pilgrimages, and Masses can be held, the chapel, and the oratory located underneath the chapel that provides a reflective space for visitors to spend time in prayer. Behind the statue of Mary in the oratory is an area where numerous relics of saints can be found.

This week the shrine also served as a host site for the display of Eucharistic Miracles designed and created by Blessed Carlo Acutis – born in 1991, a soccer player, snow-skiing aficionado, movie buff, and video gamer from Italy. He was interested in computer programing and, at age 11, convince his parents to take vacations to sites where Eucharistic Miracles had taken place.  He began to record and document these miracles and took them to churches in the same form that was presented at the shrine. 

In 2006, Carlo became gravely ill due to advanced leukemia. He died shortly thereafter, but his work continues. He was named Servant of God in 2016 and was beatified on October 10, 2020.

We were able to attend Mass, receive the sacrament of reconciliation, and participate in adoration while we were visiting the apparition site. I think I loved the peace most of all. It was quiet and wonderful for reflection. The chapel was the perfect size – not too large, and not too quaint. Not too full, and not too sparse. It felt warm, inviting, and accessible. It was a powerful mid-Lent experience for us to experience as a family. Despite the cold and snow, so we enjoyed the grounds, but we weren't able to walk around as much as we would have liked, so I suspect we will be back. Oh, and there is a dairy barn adjacent to the property which gives the property a decidedly ag-centric feel.  Far from the hustle and bustle of city life, it was a space full of open-air, simplistic structures, and all the comforts of a rural community.

I think I appreciated the words spoken to Sister Adele, too. How often do we need to hear that message: Go and fear nothing. I will help you.  

I need that message daily. I may not be called to change the lives of others. I may not be called to teach the masses. I may not be asked to do the impossible. But, I know that I am called to do things that are outside my comfort zone -- and so are many of us. We are called to do things that are part of the plan, but that are scary. Knowing that Sr. Adele was supported in her mission gives me the courage to know that I am supported, too. We are never alone.

Are you Thriving Through Harvest Season?

A couple of years ago, a dear friend introduced me to @Mary Pat Sass – farmwife, businesswoman, mom, farm-style fashionista, and social media extraordinaire. 

I have watched her become an advocate for agriculture, making engaging farm-centric videos, promoting farm safety, supporting other local businesswomen, and loving the life she is living. This fall, Mary Pat, who goes by @MP, released a journal for farmwives to help them navigate the stressful season of harvest time.

If you follow her Instagram, you may, as I am, be mesmerized by her down-to-earth personality, her determination and grit, and her love of her husband and her little kids – not to mention her genuine love for the farm life she is embracing.

So when she talked to me about her Thrive Through Harvest Mindset Journal, I felt rejuvenated. I’m a pretty positive person – and I'm thankful for the life I lead, for my husband, for my children, for my faith, and for my circle. I don’t know about you, but, every so often, I know that I need a refresher. It usually comes in the form of someone like MP who puts things into perspective and makes me realize just how much of my dream I am living right now – in the thick of busy, in the midst of a hectic photography season, in the throes of parenting in a new way, and on the threshold of balancing work and family time, attempting to keep the house in order, managing the ever-growing laundry pile, and feeding my family nutritious and delicious home-cooked meals as often as possible.

So along comes MP. She’s rocking the farm life, dressed in the most amazing, super-casual, stylish outfit, getting down in the dirt with her young kiddos, carrying home-made dinners into the field, and greeting her husband with a kiss and a little bit of home away from home ~ in the form of Mississippi pot roast. Yeah… she’s the real deal.

When I purchased her “6 Week Thrive Through Harvest Mindset Journal,” I initially purchased it so I could effectively write a story for our local newspaper, The Woodstock Independent, on her new project, but, I quickly realized that it was super helpful to take some time to evaluate my own “Harvest Season.”

As a writer and photographer, fall is my busy season – I relish photographing families, seniors, and all things agriculture and military. My calendar is booked. My life – and my sessions – are a jigsaw puzzle that requires each piece to fit perfectly with little room for deviation. After coming off a summer that always begins with local parades and ends with the Experimental Aircraft Association Oshkosh AirVenture followed by our local and state fairs … it’s a season of overload, heading into a season of, well, overload. I volunteer to do PR for a local antique farm equipment club, and one of the great passions of my heart is military and veteran events -- both of which thrive in fall. My children have fall birthdays, too. Holidays creep up. I get angsty. But, I talked to MP, and I realized I needed to regroup. I needed to change my mindset.

So, while I highly recommend this journal for its intended purpose – farmwives who live for weeks on end doing life kind of alone while their husbands are out in the fields in hopeful anticipation of a good harvest, I kind of recommend it for anyone in a stressful busy season of life. 

In going through the journal, I’ve taken time to be thankful for the busy week ahead, knowing that I am contributing to our family through my job and that I am capturing memories that people will cherish. I’ve reminded myself to tell my clients that I have a lot – A LOT – of sessions, so please don’t anticipate full galleries for 4-6 weeks at this point ~ and, if I overdeliver, they are happy! Oh, I’ve looked at dinner plans a week in advance, and planned for ways that I can remind my family that I still love them first – no matter how busy I am. MP’s journal reminds me to do something for myself, for my husband, and for my children every week, and it helps me to think about all of the memories I made or the little things that I’m extremely thankful for – it is a gratitude journal made easy!

And, she keeps it short – it takes only a few manageable minutes to plan for the week ahead, record the giggles, smiles, successes, and blessings, and navigate the unexpected. It is a place to talk about your own harvest season, take time to slow down, and make room for appreciation. It is a place to record some of those amazing “field-friendly” dinners she posts on her Insta, too! (Trust me, you need to follow her.)

She makes me want to photograph her entire farmtastic, faith-driven life! She also inspires me to remember to go back to my roots ~ put my faith first, love my husband and my (growing older) babies, love my job(s), make delicious food, and get out in the dirt.

Thank you to all the farmers and farmwives out there who keep our country alive and thriving. We are in your corner ~ and appreciate you! It is a difficult job, and we see you. 

Harvard brings the American Veterans Traveling Tribute to Milky Way Park

Never forget …

The City of Harvard, Illinois Chamber of Commerce and Industry offered Harvard’s Milky Way Park to host the American Veterans Traveling Tribute from September 8 through September 11.

I’ve photographed several traveling Vietnam Wall displays for various organizations. I’m always powerfully moved by the Vietnam veterans who visit the names etched in stone, families who visit loved ones, and those experiencing the magnitude of sacrifice for the first time. Harvard brought that to their hometown – and so much more.

This display is different. Retired US Army Lt. Col. and Vietnam veteran Don Allen, owner of the AVTT, told me that one night he had come up with a way to honor all veterans in a tangible way.

“This tribute includes the Wall,” he explained, “but it is so much more. It brings the younger generation out because we honor Dessert Storm, Afghanistan, Iraq, Grenada, Korea – all of it. It honors those who died on September 11th. …It is about every sacrifice.”

So, I went with my dear Vietnam Veteran friend, and I was particularly touched by the peaceful field in front of the all-too-familiar Vietnam Wall.

I had the great privilege to meet Retired US Army Lt. Col. Ryan Yantis, Pentagon Survivor, last year. His book caused me to think about September 11 in a different way. Wandering the field, I re-read the timelines, walked from A-frame to A-frame, and spent time taking the names of those who had perished.  

I meandered to the more recent losses, looking for the names of friends’ children who had paid the ultimate sacrifice. I looked through the older wars and thought about how different these experiences have been, yet, they are unified in both grief and in loss.

This grief is not limited to those whose lives were cut short. No, this grief is also the loss of innocence, the loss of who they once were, the loss of relationships that once were strong but now have waned. It is the loss of a feeling of belonging. It is the knowledge that they have experienced things that almost no one has – except for their military brothers and sisters. 

So this Wall, combined with the large field of remembrance, provides space. So many Vietnam veterans, Vietnam-Era veterans, and families of these veterans have found solace touching the names etched in the towering wall, maintaining a connection, knowing they are not alone, allowing grief to pour over them as they embrace the enormity of the loss. Here is their place to heal. 

With the American Veterans Traveling Tribute, all veterans and veteran families can touch the names that are often held in the silence of their hearts. This tribute is for them. They have suffered losses that many cannot comprehend. They know they will never be the person they were before they embarked on that journey. They, too, carry the weight of combat on their shoulders. While they wander the field, they are given the same opportunity to visit with those lost and to share the stories that are so important alive. Here is their place to heal.

On the cusp of yet another anniversary of the September 11 Attacks, I am grateful for the opportunity this tribute provides. What I learned from Lt. Col. Yantis was that the impact of those planes reverberated across the nation and beyond, and the overpowering waves of emotion continues today to wash into the lives of those who witnessed it, lived it, and responded to it. Here is their place to heal.

Healing comes in many forms. We never forget the trauma nor the loss, but we find hope in those who touch a shoulder while we weep, who offer a prayer of peace, who stand in silence to support us, and who wait patiently as we decide if we want to share our story.

But there we stand. United in hope just as much as we are in grief.

Allen’s tribute is made in the United States of black anodized marine-grade aluminum in his shop. The A-frames are updated as new information comes his way. Harvard is the only location in Illinois that the AVTT will be this season, and the Traveling Tribute will be there through Sunday.