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(10/18/05 5:04am)
As a young teenager, Indrek Park learned to play bagpipes in Estonia, a country less than half the size of Indiana with one-fifth its population.\nNow 34 and an IU graduate student, Park is still playing. Last week, he played his Estonian bagpipes for a sixth-grade class at Bloomington's University Elementary School because the students were studying the region in Europe where Estonia lies. \nThe students giggled as Park finished his tunes with a loud honk from the pipes.\nGrowing up in a small country with its own native language, Estonian, Park developed a desire to protect the languages and cultures of small, indigenous groups of people. And if bagpipes could talk, Park's would tell about a man who has traveled the world, working with people to discover, preserve and revitalize their dying languages.\n"People say, 'What is the point?' But when a language dies, it's like an endangered species dies," he said. \nBeyond social and academic value, Park said he enjoys studying languages out of pure fascination. He can't give an exact count of all the languages he can speak, but Park generally lists Estonian, Tibetan, Korean, Chinese and the major European languages. \n"Languages are fascinating, like a hobby, if you get to know the soul of a language," he said.\nRight now, he is working to get his Ph.D. in linguistics and trying to get grants for a project with the American Indian Studies Research Institute. The project is focused on revitalizing Arikara, an American Indian language in North Dakota with few speakers left.\nIn the beginning, although his focus was not as narrow as it is today, he still had the same researcher's heart, he remembered.\nWhen he was 6, he convinced a girl to escape kindergarten for a research adventure with him. When someone noticed their absence, the police were called and, unfortunately for the young adventurers, cut the outing short.\n"The kindergarten built a big fence around it after that incident," he said.\nAfter that, his research adventures were more successful. In his late teens, he spent summers and winters with a friend in Siberia studying the Nenets and Manisi people, collecting their folk songs and materials to donate to the Estonian National Museum in Tartu.\nWhat was it like to live with strangers in 50-below-zero weather while researching their culture?\n"Oh, nice. We had our own reindeer team and stayed in a teepee," Park said.\nWithin the next two years, Park was invited to come to America to intern with Cultural Survival, Inc., a program founded to defend the human rights of indigenous peoples and oppressed ethnic minorities. \nHe later studied on scholarship in Beijing, where he met his wife, Sayon, who is Korean. They both knew English, but Sayon did not speak Chinese. They met the first week Park was in China, when he translated for her to help her find the dining halls. They married two years later.\nHis translating abilities have been helpful for more people than Sayon, however. \nCurrently, Park is using his ability to grasp foreign languages teaching Qeq'chi, a Mayan language, to members of St. Thomas Evangelical Lutheran Church in Bloomington. Park, who is involved in the church, is giving the language instruction to prepare the group for a trip to Chichipate, Guatemala -- the church's "sister parish" community -- this November.\nSt. Thomas' Rev. Lyle McKee said he has been very impressed with Park's ability to grasp the language so quickly.\n"On his first trip to Chichipate (in 2001), he picked up the language while he was there," McKee said. "It's simply amazing. I've never met anyone like him."\nPark plans to be with the group in November and has been working on compiling a grammar dictionary for the people in Chichipate, McKee said.\nNow, after playing his bagpipes in America at the top of the World Trade Center, on the Great Wall of China, in Guatemala's rain forests, halfway up Mt. Everest and in a Bloomington elementary classroom, Park plans to move back to Estonia someday with Sayon, following more extensive research in American Indian languages.\nBeyond those tentative plans, Park remains unsure, much like a 6-year-old ready for more adventures.\n"Long term is hard to see," he said. "We'll see what happens"
(10/17/05 4:59am)
Every year, Marilyn Behrman can't help wondering if people will continue to come to the benefit event that honors the memory of her daughter, Jill. \n"I just keep thinking, 'Gosh, the students don't really know Jill. Are they really going to show up?'" she said.\nBut every year, those worries evaporate as the Bloomington community answers, "Yes," in a huge way, refusing to let Jill's memory fade with time. \nThis year, more than 1,100 runners, joggers and walkers strode through a chill breeze Saturday morning to be part of the sixth annual Jill Behrman Run for the End Zone.\nLooking at the race participants filling the Mellencamp Pavilion, where the race started and finished, Jill's parents and grandparents expressed their deep gratitude for the growing support shown to the family every year. \n"It's been amazing," Marilyn Behrman said. "It's just great to have that sort of continuous support."\nThe 5K race has been scheduled every October since 2000 -- the year that Jill, then an IU sophomore, disappeared while riding her bike in Bloomington. The race brings students and community members together to help raise money for the Jill Behrman Emerging Leadership Scholarship fund and for Jill's House, which meets housing needs for patients of the IU Proton Therapy Treatment Center.\nThis year, Collins Living and Learning Center was the best represented dorm team with 46 members participating. Delta Gamma and Sigma Delta Tau tied for best represented greek organizations with 10 participants each.\nIU's Division of Recreational Sports, where Jill worked, organizes the event, and some students involved with RecSports ran in the race Saturday, while others worked to make sure the race ran smoothly.\nIU Senior Jimmy Grimes, the race's overall winner, also works at RecSports. He said the event brings the division together as everyone is encouraged to get involved in honor of Jill and her family. \nStudents aren't the only ones showing support, though. The event draws individuals and teams from all over the community. This year, the largest teams from the community were a group of 28 from Meadowood and 25 from Bloomington High School South's volleyball team, where Jill played before she attended IU.\nAlso, for the first time, Bloomington's Chamber of Commerce joined with RecSports to co-host a Wellness Fair in the Pavilion during the race. The event, free to the public, included 54 community organizations giving away fitness information, door prizes and even massages. \nIU Athletics' outdoor venues coordinator, Prentice Parker, worked behind the scenes during the race Saturday. He is also a friend of Eric Behrman, Jill's father, and remembers when Jill disappeared.\n"As a father with a daughter, I felt very sad for the family," Parker said. Showing support through Saturday's race is one way for him and others in the community to help, he added.\n"This is the community. We help," Parker said. "That's what it's all about."\nJill's grandfather, Lester Behrman, drove from DeCatur County Ind. for the race and said he couldn't stress enough how grateful he was for the willingness to help and the support he felt on Saturday.\nHowever, Jill's case is still unsolved -- her body was found in 2003 but no one has been prosecuted for her murder -- and Lester said he still wanted justice for those involved in the crime.\n"You know, the sad part is, there are people on the streets who know what happened," he said. "It'd be nice if they could get the people off the street who would do that sort of thing. Hopefully someday they'll be able to bring those people to justice." \nMarilyn and Eric Behrman walk in the race every year, and expect the event will get larger next year. Marilyn said she enjoys coming to see all the people Jill was connected to.\n"That's the great thing -- just to see the difference Jill made to so many people," she said. "It's just very uplifting to be a part of all this"
(10/11/05 4:19am)
One line repeats at the bottom of each page on Middle Way House's Web site: "Do you need to cover your tracks?" \nThe question reminds people that women victimized by domestic violence face serious danger and often need to hide that they are looking for help.\nThrough her volunteer work, junior Megan Haselschwerdt understands the danger more than many women her age. Since January, she has volunteered at Middle Way House, Bloomington's primary resource center for women victimized by domestic violence and sexual assault. Her experience so far has raised her awareness about those problems and has taught her ways to help the women who deal with them, she said. \nAnd the compassion to help them? She already had that one.\n"Megan's always been a servant and had a big compassion," her mother, Debbie Haselschwerdt, said from Marietta, Ga. "She's always been very sensitive to other people's feelings." \nThat sensitivity might stem from when Megan was only 3 and broke her neck in a head-on car collision, Debbie said. Megan had to wear a brace for her neck and back, which made her different from her friends. Even then, her attitude was, "I'm OK -- I just broke my neck," Debbie said. \nWhether it stemmed from that experience or not, Megan developed an extreme sensitivity for other people in hard situations and acted on it when she had the chance, such as when she arranged to help an autistic girl in her high school shop for clothes that would help her feel she fit in more. \nMegan brought that same compassion and drive to help from Marietta to Bloomington, and almost a year ago, she began looking for ways to get involved in the community. When she heard about Middle Way House, she decided to attend the full-day training session required for volunteers. \nShe started by tutoring children at The Rise! -- Middle Way's two-year housing program for women with children who have come through extremely violent situations. She then took additional training to work the 24-hour crisis line. \nSoon, Megan worked only at the crisis line, where she continued working during the first summer session and still works six hours a week. The position can be very stressful because she is the first contact for women whose lives might be in danger.\n"Every call is different," she said. "There are always calls that catch you off guard."\nSenior Hannah Gardi, a Middle Way staff member and volunteer coordinator, said Megan has handled more crisis calls than many volunteers do in such a short time, and she works well in those tense situations. \nIn one call Megan answered, the woman said she was not in a "safe place," meaning she was in immediate danger. Before Megan could talk to the woman more, though, someone pulled the phone's cord, Megan said. \nNo one ever heard back from the woman.\n"Stuff like that, it just hits you hard," Megan said. "Sometimes you are left not knowing and it makes it really hard. You just hope things work out for the best, but you don't know." \nWhen women do call to talk about domestic violence and sexual assault crimes, Megan and others who work the crisis line don't give advice, but instead offer resources and a listening ear. This method keeps volunteers from becoming overly stressed about giving wrong advice, and it embodies Middle Way's mission to empower women to make the best decisions for their situations, Gardi said. \n"The one thing that has been taken from them is their power, their control," she said, which is why it is important to give the women options and choices. \nMegan, also shouldering a full load of classes, pursuing a psychology major with a biology minor and preparing to attend graduate school in a year, will soon take what she has learned from working on the crisis line and move on to complete On-Scene Advocate training with Middle Way. The position requires the volunteer to wear a pager 15 hours each week, as part of a team making 24-hour on-call assistance possible for women who have suffered through violent situations. \nIn addition to her volunteer positions, as a member of Kappa Kappa Gamma, Megan said one of her goals is spreading Middle Way's message about stopping violence against women to the campus, particularly to the greek community. Out of about 350 volunteers -- mostly IU students -- Megan is the only regular volunteer in a sorority, and she said she wants to see others get involved in volunteering. \n"I like being at (Middle Way) House. I think it's a really great organization," she said. "All of the women are just incredible and give so much of their lives to help other people. I think that's admirable"
(10/05/05 4:44am)
Life is like a box of chocolates for some, but for the enterprising Runcible Spoon owner and head chef Matt O'Neill, life is a path filled with chances and risks to take.\nBesides, he can just make his own box of chocolates.\nFive years ago, O'Neill thought his risk-taking days were done. He came to Bloomington to retire with money earned from smart investing and more than 30 years of success in the cooking business. \nHe took the time to travel and visit with friends and family. He invested his time and money in the Bloomington Cooking School, becoming co-owner and teacher for the small school on College Avenue. He was settled, or so he thought.\nThen Sept. 11, 2001, caused stocks nationwide to plummet. O'Neill's invested money fell with the rest, which forced his retirement plans to take a backseat. He started looking for ways to earn money again.\n"I could've lied down and cried in my beer," he said, "or I could go back to what I knew."\nAnd O'Neill knew the cooking business. From the age of 14, he had been trained in the culinary arts through a five-year apprenticeship at a French restaurant in Dublin, Ireland. He had also worked in restaurants in Montreal, Chicago, Indianapolis and Cincinnati from the time he was 20.\nFaced with a decision, O'Neill took a risk. In December 2001, he bought Runcible Spoon, 412 E. Sixth St., from Jeff Danielson. \nO'Neill had been a client at the Spoon for years before living in Bloomington, and Danielson said he felt comfortable he could keep the business running.\n"He would step in and help in the kitchen sometimes," Danielson said. "I knew he liked the place, and I was getting burned out." \nThe Spoon has tripled its revenues since O'Neill bought it, and he has also become the head of another business, the R Street Bistro, in Bedford. Now, the once-retired O'Neill, 55, finds himself busier and more content than he would've imagined five years ago.\n"It's a recovery I'm quite proud of," he said. "This is my comeback story, basically. Everybody has a comeback story somehow in their life, and this is mine." \nO'Neill is no stranger to comeback stories. Many times, his life has been like cooking from scratch -- just taking his talents and making something happen.\nAfter his apprenticeship, O'Neill, a Dublin, Ireland, native, wanted to earn money to complete an education at University College Dublin. So he took the chance to be a cook in one of Montreal's luxury hotel restaurants, stepping off the plane in Canada with $70 in his pocket.\nAt that point, he thought Indiana was somewhere on the West Coast, he said.\nFrom there, O'Neill took a job in the restaurant on the 96th floor of Chicago's John Hancock building. He then moved to Indianapolis, where he worked with culinary wizard Wolfgang Puck, then to Cincinnati as an executive chef and instructor for a culinary arts school.\nHe took classes at a university in Montreal and at IU-Purdue University at Indianapolis, but never earned a degree other than his Culinary Arts Certificate from his apprenticeship in Ireland.\n"I kept on getting promoted at work, so the degree got left behind," he said. "The chefing just kind of took up my life."\nBy 1984, he made his way back to Indianapolis and was hired as the head chef to help start a restaurant, the Crystal Room. O'Neill and his partners worked from the ground up to get the Crystal Room on its feet, and he said he enjoyed the success, especially with clientele like opera singer Luciano Pavarotti and actor Paul Newman.\nTwo years later, opportunity knocked again and O'Neill was presented with a chance he just couldn't refuse, he said. This time, a man from Greencastle, Ind., wanted to hand him a building with the positions of innkeeper and head chef. \n"To me, that was a fabulous opportunity," O'Neill said.\nHe moved to Greencastle, the small DePauw University college town, and spent the next 15 years putting the Walden Inn on the map. He started from scratch again, without a staff or clientele base, but he trained employees and, after many years, O'Neill played host to guests such as the Prime Minister of Israel, former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, former first lady Barbara Bush and Jerry Springer. \nDuring his time there, he also published a cookbook, "Seasons at the Walden Inn," which he wrote parts of while sipping coffee at the Runcible Spoon, which now thrives under O'Neill's ownership.\nJoe Bower, 19, a manager at the Spoon, works closely with O'Neill and attributes his success to an artistic approach to life, creativity and his "unbelievable charisma."\nO'Neill echoed that observation from his own experiences: "The only thing I've learned from it is, if you live creatively, you're going to be successful, and it's amazing how happy you can be"
(09/27/05 4:12am)
For Betsy Higgins, leading a normal life is defying the odds, as she lives with the developmental disorder Down syndrome.\nDown syndrome is a genetic condition that causes delays in intellectual and physical development, and occurs in about one of every 800 births, according to the National Association for Down Syndrome. \nToday, although some of her abilities are affected by Down syndrome, she enjoys many of the same activities and deals with many of the same day-to-day pressures as other 32-year-olds. She successfully juggles the responsibilities of her job at T.I.S. Bookstore, both paid and volunteer work at the not-for-profit Stone Belt Arc, located on 10 Street, and singing in her church choir at Sherwood Oaks Christian Church -- not to mention having fun with family and friends.\nOn an average day, she spends her mornings at Stone Belt, involved in the organization's day services, which are designed to support individuals with developmental disorders. Then it's off to her job at T.I.S. until she comes home to watch the soap opera "Days of Our Lives" with her housemates and decide how to spend the rest of her night.\nShe likes to go out to eat and go to the movies for fun, she said, and she spends a lot of time with her boyfriend Ronnie Sipes and her best friend Robbie Denning.\n"She knows she has limitations, and she likes to do the best with what she's got, and I think that's pretty much how she'd summarize it," her father David Higgins said.\nBetsy's parents ignored suggestions to put Betsy in an institution when she was a child. Instead, they worked to understand their daughter's condition and encourage her development.\nThe key was to stimulate her to promote her own growth, David said.\nThey urged her to get involved in different activities, and she did, with everything from Girl Scouts to a cheer club to ballet and singing.\n"I'd say she was very active," David recalled.\nBetsy's parents, David and Cynthia, divorced in 1993, and David moved to Florida, then to Bloomington. In 1996, Betsy moved to Bloomington to live with her father. Shortly after moving, she became involved with Stone Belt. Within a year, a career placement service Stone Belt provides helped Betsy land a job at T.I.S. Bookstore, where she still works.\nShe took another big step toward independence two years ago, when she moved into a 24-hour staffed house with five housemates through Stone Belt's group home living program. \nOnce adjusted to the new environment, Betsy thrived in the social atmosphere, where she still lives. As with most housemates, the residents learn to work with each other, which means, for now, dealing with a new housemate who is having some trouble adjusting.\nBetsy's relationships are extremely important to her, and she is very sensitive to arguments and issues that arise among her friends.\n"It affects everyone to be friendly and communicate without being angry with each other, and keeping friendships alive," she said.\nShe puts her insights on friendliness and good communication to use, too, as a self-advocate for others with developmental disorders. Betsy just finished a term on Stone Belt's board of directors, a client-elected position, and still serves on the consumer advisory council. \nLast year, she spoke with Bloomington's state Rep. Peggy Welch about her involvement at Stone Belt, and she has another speaking engagement lined up for later this fall.\nShe likes to do those things, she said, because she likes to represent the consumers, the individuals Stone Belt helps.\nBetsy finds inspiration for her life in the people around her -- family, friends and people from her church. \nShe finds strength to do many things from God, she said, and being involved at Sherwood Oaks, especially singing in the choir, is very important to her. Her headphones, always on or resting around her neck at Stone Belt, flood her with Christian music while she works.\nUltimately, Betsy hopes to become a gospel singer someday, she said.\nStacey Ryner, a Stone Belt staff member, works with Betsy and other clients like her. She tells story after story of other individuals, who, like Betsy, are learning to live up to their highest potential, whether that means learning to brush their teeth or to live in an apartment on their own.\n"For the most part, they're adults and they make their own decisions," Ryner said. "You know, they're not that different from us"
(09/20/05 4:39am)
It started as just a hobby last summer --walking dogs on Sunday mornings. Within the past year, though, Cathi Eagan's hobby morphed into a life-saving effort for dogs in the Bloomington area that has stretched across America.\nEagan, 54, became deeply concerned when she realized the dogs she walked at the Brown County Humane Society in Nashville, Ind., were being euthanized because of limited space at the shelter. She had 20 years volunteer experience in animal care behind her -- proof of a deep passion -- and couldn't shelf her desire to help.\n"I started wondering what I could do," she said.\nEagan, who is also IU's assistant dean in the Office of Research and University Graduate School, and program director of the McNairs Scholars Program, took a vacation to Italy in fall 2004, where she visited the grave of St. Francis, patron saint of animals.\n"I went up to the grave, and I said, 'Help me do something for the animals that is going to help me make a difference,'" Eagan said.\nA few months later, she remembered an article she had read about a program that transported dogs from Puerto Rico to Northeast U.S. animal shelters. The region's shelters lack the animals to meet adoption demands because of a successful government-funded low-cost spay and neuter program. \n"If the shelters took in dogs from Puerto Rico, why not from Indiana?" she thought.\nInspired, Eagan tied her passions and past experiences together to organize a transport called CanINE Express for dogs from the Bloomington-area's overcrowded shelters to those in the Northeast United States. She drove north with the first van full of dogs in December 2004, and at least one transport has been completed every month since, sometimes with two to three vans and up to 70 dogs.\nToday, CanINE Express connects five south-central Indiana shelters with eight New England shelters and has transported more than 500 dogs that otherwise would have been euthanized. \nOn the other end, Northeast shelters are also reaping the benefits. \n"The impact to our shelter is just phenomenal," said Karen Caswell, adoption counselor with New Hampshire Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals in Stratham, N.H.\nNHSPCA accepts 20 to 40 dogs monthly from the transport. The dogs are held for a seven-day quarantine period, but on the first day they are ready for adoption, 50 to 70 percent find new homes, Caswell said. The remaining dogs usually are placed within the week.\nDespite the transport's success, sometimes Eagan catches heat for her dedication to saving animal lives when she could devote her passion to other causes.\n"People say, 'What about the homeless?' And I tell them, 'You do that. You pick that as your passion and do it 100 percent because if we all do that, the world will be a better place," she said. "I think we all have to learn to work together to make it all work as it should."\nEagan won't give up on her passion for the animal world's down-and-out, though. She said she can't even remember living without it.\n"I always wanted to have stuffed animals instead of dolls," she said. She remembers, as a child, bringing shampoo, soap and dog treats to Chip, a friend's dog that was chained outside. Her heart even went out to raccoons breaking into her house 20 years ago when she lived in Martinsville, Ind. \nNow living in Nashville, Eagan and her husband, Steve Perry, own 10 cats and three dogs, including a stray she found in Puerto Rico and flew home with her. \nWithout children, their animals are their family, Eagan said.\nJaime Robbins, Brown County Humane Society's shelter manager, sees that same love as Eagan works with the shelters' dogs.\n"She loves every last dog as if they were her own. She really does," she said.\nRobbins, an IU undergraduate studying biology, will help with the next transport Sept. 29. With more than a week to go, Brown County's small shelter is already at maximum capacity, as are all the other Indiana shelters involved with Eagan's program.\nEagan said she looks forward to the day Indiana shelters never reach maximum capacity because it will mean the end of euthanizing for space. She strongly advocates spaying and neutering cats and dogs as the only solution to decreasing the number of unwanted animals.\nAs long as animals exceed shelter space, though, transport day will always be bittersweet. \n"The hardest part of what I do is to go pick up the dogs for the transport and to see the ones left behind," Eagan said, "To see their eyes and know all they want is to find homes and be loved, it's very hard."\nFor more information visit www.petsalivespayneuter.org.
(09/13/05 5:15am)
Three-year-old Grace Ramsak wants to play a game to pass the time.\n"Will you play 'Go Fish' with me, Daddy?" she asks.\n"Wait just a little while," her father, Rob Ramsak, responds.\nGrace sighs and walks away, unaware that her parents, Rob and Ronda Ramsak, understand now more than ever how hard waiting can be. \nBefore Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast, the Ramsaks left their home in Gulfport, Miss., to stay with Ronda's sister in Bloomington. They arrived Sunday morning after a 12-hour drive and, two weeks later, are still waiting for answers to how and when they can start picking up their lives again.\nIn all, the group that traveled to Bloomington numbered 10: Rob and Ronda, their three children, plus Matt and Derek -- Rob's brothers -- and Derek's family. Derek's family and Matt are staying, free of charge, at the Brownstone Terrace apartments where Ronda's sister, Jane Lyon, works. \nNow the families are trying to cope, enrolling their children in Bloomington schools, tracking down news of their homes and friends and making tentative plans for the future. Armed with few absolutes, though, the Ramsaks often have just one choice: to wait. \n"Everything right now is just like a waiting game," Ronda said. "We're just waiting to see what happens."\nDriving away, Rob and Ronda never thought their home was in serious danger. They left, not in panic, but to avoid traffic and use the chance to visit family in Bloomington. They only packed enough clothes to last a few days, some important papers, pictures and a couple of family keepsakes. \n"When we're taking off Saturday night, I'm thinking, 'I'm coming back Tuesday night,'" Rob said. "We didn't think it was any kind of long-term deal." \nRob, who grew up in New Orleans and has lived on the Gulf Coast off-and-on his whole life, admitted it's not hard for people who have lived on the coast to underestimate hurricane warnings because sometimes hurricanes don't come or don't cause the damage expected. \n"It's kind of like the boy who cried wolf," he said. "You just don't know."\nThis time, he didn't know until he and his family were already on the road. After driving all night, the Ramsaks stopped at McDonald's, where a TV news program spelled out the true scope of the storm -- a category 5 hurricane. For the next two days, they all watched, shocked, as Katrina tore through the coast.\nInitially, Rob feared he might not have much to come back to.\n"We had a big pine tree in the back yard, and I was pretty sure it was going to be in the middle of my living room," he said.\nNews trickled in, though, once cell phone service was restored, that their house seemed in good condition, and they already had the comfort of knowing their family was safe. \nRob and Matt went back to Gulfport Thursday to see the damage firsthand, but also to see if Rob, an accountant, could help his father and stepmother start up their family medical practice again, in which case he would stay until Ronda returned home with the children -- probably later in October when the schools open again. \nBack in Gulfport, Rob was blown away just seeing Katrina's aftermath.\n"I've never seen anything like that, and I hope never to see anything like that again," he said. "I was just not as mentally prepared as I thought I would be." \nRob called Ronda Friday to tell her he was coming back that night. The clinic -- and the house -- had sustained more damage than they had thought. \nRonda vented her frustrations, disappointed about the house and wondering where money would come from for the next few weeks.\n"I am very fortunate to have my whole family and to know the house is standing," she said, "but it's still heart-wrenching. It's still my home. We've worked really hard over the years, and it's really hard to think about losing what's been established." \nRob and Ronda plan to return to Gulfport when the schools open again. Matt returned to his home outside New Orleans, and Derek is considering re-locating to Bloomington. \nFor now, the Ramsaks handle the situation by drawing strength from faith in God, Rob said, and finding joy in the little things. \n"There've been times enough in the last couple of weeks that were really tough," he said, "But just little things, like Grace coming up and saying, 'Will you play "Go Fish" with me?' make it a lot better"
(09/06/05 5:29am)
Looking at her, no one would guess that Linda Kelley, president and CEO of Bloomington's Backstreet Missions, once faced the problems she now helps others escape -- problems from drug and alcohol addictions to homelessness.\nLinda, 59, smiles easily and often, speaks sincerely and has earned admiration for how well she runs the not-for-profit Christian homeless ministry her husband, Gene Kelley, started 10 years ago. When he died in 2002 of esophageal cancer, Linda found the strength to carry on the young ministry.\n"She's just on top of everything. She has the heart and the business sense to run the mission," said Linda's long-time friend, Jeff Grossnickle, who also serves on Backstreet's board of directors.\nRewind 30 years, though, when Linda and Gene were struggling with drug and alcohol addictions, raising two kids and barely scraping by.\nChildhood sweethearts from Mitchell, Ind., Linda and Gene met at age seven and married at 18. They met through church, but soon after marriage left their Christian backgrounds. The young couple moved to Bloomington, and within 10 years, a storm of grief hit: Gene's father and grandfather died within two months of each other. Gene's half-brother was murdered soon after. \nGene turned to drugs and alcohol to deal with the tragedy. Linda followed suit, unable to handle Gene's drug abuse.\n"It was very scary, and instead of going back to my faith, I joined him, and I started doing drugs and alcohol, too," Linda said.\nDuring the next 10 years, their addictions cost them almost everything. At one point, they took up in a camper with their two children, taking showers in town because they had no water. Every day became a struggle just to survive. The stress led Gene to openly consider suicide.\nIn the midst of it all, one unforgettable encounter impacted Gene's life -- and Linda's -- with a force that eventually rippled through Bloomington.\nWithout a job in 1979, Gene took up truck driving. Stopped in San Diego, he noticed a homeless man walking through a restaurant's outdoor dining area. Diners turned away, and the manager started running the man off, but Gene felt moved. He handed the man his sandwich.\nLater, a dog trotted the same path as the homeless man, greeted by attention and scraps of food from diners. Gene couldn't believe what he saw. \n"He thought how strange this was that people would just shove aside a human being and pay attention to a dog," said close friend Jim Richardson, pastor of Full Gospel Tabernacle in Bloomington. "And that was the thing that turned the light bulb on in his heart," \nThat experience sparked a desire to help the homeless. It stuck with him, even after he quit truck driving, then bartending and started working at a local factory.\nIn 1983, Linda and Gene turned back to Christianity -- the faith that, as Linda said, helped them change their own lives and, later, would help others do the same. It fueled Gene's vision for a homeless ministry in Bloomington.\nDecision time hit when the factory where Gene worked for more than 10 years downsized and cut his position. Linda remembers her husband thinking this might be his only chance to make his vision into reality, and she stood beside him as he passed up a better-paying position to get a homeless ministry off the ground. \n"I just supported him," Linda said. "I knew it was the passion of his life."\nStarting small, the Kelleys took people into their own home until 1995, when they opened the Crites House, a donated house in Spencer, Ind.\nLinda and Gene worked to expand the mission through church and community support, and in 1999, Backstreet moved into a larger facility in Bloomington.\nToday, Backstreet Missions includes a two-building men's shelter, thrift store and food pantry, and Linda finds herself at the top, working 50 to 60 hours a week to make Gene's dream happen.\nSometimes she still sees herself in the people who come for help.\n"I see people everyday at the food pantry needing food, and I say, 'Been there, done that,'" she said. "It's so rewarding to be able to take that stress off of them with the resources God has given"
(06/13/05 12:04am)
In the face of an international decline in students pursuing chemistry degrees, IU's chemistry faculty is revamping the department's approaches and finding new ways to spark and maintain student interest. \nMany factors affect students pursuing chemistry today, said retired IUPUI Chemistry Professor Erwin Boschman, also previously IU's Associate Vice President of Distributed Education. \nLack of interest might be a cause, he said, but definitely trends in science education to combine fields, demands in the workforce, tough math requirements and a drop in students from abroad.\nChemistry Professor Catherine Reck is one of several key IU faculty members working to combat these factors by developing new approaches to chemistry education.\nThree years ago, the department began introducing several major changes to its curriculum. This fall, the changes will be finalized and apply to all students for the first time.\nOne of the first changes Reck helped implement was integrating lab and lecture courses to correlate with each other. The new five credit-hour combination replaced an old system in which students' lectures might have nothing to do with their lab courses. \nMany schools across the country still don't combine lab and lecture courses, Reck pointed out. \n"This is just generated by faculty that say, 'You know what? I don't care what other places are doing. This is what we need to do now,'" she said.\nAnother step for the department was to make a smoother path for students' to follow as they pursued their degrees. This involves making sure classes lead into each other, each one building off the material learned in the course \nbefore.\n"I like to think of it as a storyline," Reck said. Also, this structure "helps get to the cooler stuff faster." \nThe department has also upped the requirements for its entry level chemistry course (C117), bumping a large amount of students to a prep-chemistry course to get them familiar with key concepts and increase their confidence for future classes.\nReck strongly emphasizes that students need to understand concepts and applications, not just worry about getting right answers.\nWhile chemistry majors across the country are dropping, IU's chemistry majors have only increased, from about 100 two years ago to 360 this year. And the drop/fail/withdraw rate has dropped from about 40% to 18%, Reck said.\nAcross the Atlantic, many U.K. universities have been scrapping chemistry courses for the past 10 years due to lack in demand, IU's chemistry department has added several new courses, including science-focused career preparatory classes and oral presentations classes to help students present research \nprofessionally.\nPam Sontz, a junior Biochemistry major, took a career prep course from the chemistry department this year, which helped her as she considers careers, as well as graduate and medical schools.\n"That was one of the most beneficial classes," she said. "I'm glad I got to take it before I graduate."\nReck won't deny she wants to see IU's chemistry department move straight to the top and out-rank other top chemistry programs, but it's not her main focus.\nThe goal is the success of the students, she said. \n"Everyone in this office will tell you we want our students to be prepared for their careers, successful and happy in their jobs," she said.
(04/27/05 5:02am)
Every week, IU sophomore Chris McGaha finds a bit of magic in 11-year-old Matt's smile when they meet at Bloomington's Boys and Girls Club. \nMcGaha, 20, is Matt's "big" through South Central Indiana's Big Brothers Big Sisters organization, a program that establishes mentoring relationships between children ages 6 to 17 and adult volunteers in Monroe and Owen counties. He will be honored tonight at 6:30 p.m. with other outstanding BBBS volunteers at the organization's annual volunteer appreciation event, "Magic of the Match," in Bloomington Convention Center, 302 S. College Ave, in the Olcott Room. \nTonight's appreciation event will honor 11 volunteers from several different mentoring programs BBBS makes available. Top fund-raisers for Bowl for Kids' Sake and other community service volunteers will also receive awards.\nCase Manager Jan Hagemeyer chose McGaha as Club Big of the Year after watching his mentoring transform Matt's attitude. She matched the "brothers" six months ago, when Matt was too shy to look at her. Now the two can't wait to tell Hagemeyer what they've been up to.\n"You could just visually see (Matt) blossom over a period of time," she said.\nTonight is all about those transformations.\n"I think a lot of people know what we do but don't get to hear those special stories," said Liz Grenat, executive director for BBBS of South Central Indiana.\nAs volunteers accept their awards, they will share their own stories with the nearly 200 staff, volunteers, children and family members who attend the event. Special guest Karen Herbert, wife of IU President Adam Herbert, also will attend.\nIU football coach Terry Hoeppner was scheduled to be the keynote speaker at the event but canceled because of a family emergency.\nAndrea Smith, chosen as BBBS' IU student volunteer of the year, said she looks forward to spending the time with her "little," Kindra, and being with other matches to see them share her enthusiasm.\n"We've definitely grown so much together," Smith said. "We have a lot of fun. I kind of get to relive my childhood through her." \nSmith has developed a strong relationship with Kindra since their first meeting in September 2003, and she hopes to share tonight how much that relationship means to her.\nIU students make up about half of South Central Indiana's BBBS volunteers, Grenat said. \nHagemeyer works closely with club and community matches, most of whom are students.\n"I'm so impressed with the maturity and dependability of the IU students," she said. "I wish I could honor all of them."\n-- Contact Staff Writer Jessica Wolfe at jelwolfe@indiana.edu.
(04/21/05 4:41am)
The son of a legend is in Bloomington tonight.\nMore than half a century ago, Hoagy Carmichael, Bloomington's famous singer, songwriter and pianist, made a name for himself at the forefront of America's jazz movement with songs like "Stardust" and "Georgia On My Mind."\nHis son Randy Carmichael will play piano tonight at Tutto Bene's wine café, 213 S. Rogers St., to raise public support for the Hoagy Carmichael Landmark Project, dedicated to placing a tribute to his father in People's Park on Kirkwood Avenue.\nDesigner/sculptor Michael McAuley heads the project and plans to see a life-size bronze sculpture of Hoagy at a grand piano resting in People's Park within a year.\n"There's nothing like this (tribute to Hoagy) in the world, believe it or not," said Chris Sturbaum, member of the project's core committee and vice president of the Bloomington Common Council.\nTonight's dinner-concert event kicks off a public effort to get Bloomington behind the project and to help cover costs as McAuley moves ahead with the sculpture. The effort will continue at noon Saturday at an unveiling of the sculpture design in People's Park, which will be free to the public.\nThe kick-off tonight has a full schedule of diverse musicians, from IU jazz students to old hands who played in Carmichael's era, McAuley said.\nAs Randy Carmichael takes his place at the piano, big names Al Cobine and Dominic Spera will join him on saxophone and trumpet. Local jazz artists Pat Harbison, Janice Jaffe and Karl Sturbaum will also perform for the benefit event.\nCobine, a composer and big-band leader, has played with Randy Carmichael before and welcomes another opportunity.\n"He'll enjoy doing it," said Cobine's wife Marian. "He's looking forward to it."\nA silent auction featuring items donated by various Bloomington art organizations will occur at the event, and McAuley, Sturbaum and Randy Carmichael will let the audience know more about the project, including a sneak peak at the sculpture design.\nThe benefit begins at 6:30 p.m., and anywhere from 150 to 200 people are expected to attend. With tickets selling for $50, the restaurant will be almost at maximum capacity.\nMayor Mark Kruzan -- and free pizza -- will greet gatherers Saturday in People's Park for the design unveiling. Those planning to stop by or just out for a Saturday stroll down Kirkwood Avenue will hear Harbison's trumpet tunes and find McAuley and Randy Carmichael on hand to tell people about the park's new face.\nThose closest to the project, sponsored by Jazz from Bloomington, share a passion for making Hoagy Carmichael's mark in history a permanent recognition for the whole community to see and be part of.\n"It's really such an exciting and needed recognition in our community that I wanted to be involved in seeing it through," said Linda Dausend, press contact for the Hoagy Project and member of Bloomington Symphony Orchestra.\n"It's long overdue, and we're excited to be launching it this week," she said.\nChris Sturbaum, who once walked Kirkwood as a student with Hoagy's tunes in his head, imagines people sitting down and taking pictures with the sculpture. \n"What's really important is getting the memory of Hoagy on the street like that," he said. \n-- Contact Staff Writer Jessica Wolfe at jelwolfe@indiana.edu.
