thedrifter
12-15-06, 07:13 AM
Portraits of courage
Student's gesture of condolence becomes a statewide tribute
By Colleen Mastony
Tribune staff reporter
Published December 15, 2006
A young man sketches a portrait of a fallen soldier. Pencil to paper, he begins with the eyes. An almond-shaped outline, a thin stroke for an eyelid. He blackens each pupil, adds a half-moon of reflection in the iris.
"There is a secret to the eyes," says Cameron Schilling, as he adds a glint of light to the pupil. "More than anything, the eyes are life. If I do them well, I can say to myself, 'It looks like he is staring back at me.' "
What began as a small gesture of condolence when Schilling sketched a portrait of a soldier from his hometown has become an ambitious effort to remember the dead from across the state. For two years, Schilling, a 22-year-old senior at Eastern Illinois University in Charleston, has been drawing pictures of GIs from Illinois who have been killed while on active duty.
Air Force pilots smiling proudly in their flight suits, steely-eyed Marines in their dress-blue uniforms, Army infantrymen in heavy helmets and camouflage fatigues. Schilling looks at their photos and studies their eyes. With his pencil and drawing pad, he tries to bring them to life.
"I've had mothers come up to me and say, 'I can't believe the look in his eyes,' " Schilling said. "When I hear that, I know I've sketched a good portrait."
Every time a member of the armed forces from Illinois is killed, the lieutenant governor's office sends Schilling an e-mail with a photograph. Schilling draws the portraits for free and frames them with white matting board. The so-far 140 drawings have toured the state as part of an exhibit called "Portrait of a Soldier." In the next few days, the drawings will be sent to the families.
On a recent day, Schilling clips to his drawing board a photo of Marine Sgt. Thomas M. Gilbert, a 24-year-old from Downers Grove, who died Oct. 25 while conducting combat operations in Al Anbar province, Iraq. In the photo, Gilbert is wearing his dress uniform; his white Marine Corps hat is pulled down low; and his eyes are set in an intent stare.
"He looks so determined," says Schilling, studying the photo. As his pencil moves across the paper, shading sections here and there, Schilling wonders aloud why Gilbert enlisted. He sharpens his pencil, and leans so close to his drawing that he is staring eye to eye with Gilbert.
"Knowing that all of these people died young, in a foreign land, not close to their family. What was it like, to die like that?"
Schilling drew his first portrait in summer 2004. He was working at his parents' funeral home in Mattoon, Ill., when a former high school classmate, Army Spec. Charles L. Neeley, 19, was killed in Iraq. Schilling helped with the memorial service and -- stunned by the war's first blow to his hometown -- decided to sketch a portrait and give it to the Neeley family.
A year passed, and the death toll reached 2,000. Over time, Schilling thought that people seemed to forget those who had died.
Contacted a few families
"I remember wondering if I could send sketches to other families," Schilling says. He logged onto the Internet, and found several memorial Web sites. A longtime amateur portraitist, he e-mailed a few families and asked if they would like sketches. Families sent photographs, and Schilling began to draw.
One of his first portraits was of Marine Cpl. Nathaniel K. Moore, 22, of Champaign, who was killed in a helicopter crash in Ar Rutbah, Iraq. In return for the portrait, Moore's sister gave Schilling a handwritten thank-you note. She also sent a black sketchbook.
Keep drawing, she wrote.
Schilling had completed about five more portraits when, in February, an aide in the lieutenant governor's office heard about the drawings and asked if Schilling would sketch all of the fallen service members from Illinois.
Schilling's roommate, Nathan Catt, 22, set up a Web site, www.portraitofasoldier.org. Schilling's girlfriend, Kendra Buchanan, 22, agreed to mat and prepare each portrait for mailing. Schilling's grandmother, Betty Schilling, 84, agreed to pay for the supplies, about $1,000 in pencils, paper and packaging.
Schilling stayed in his dorm over spring break. Instead of going to Florida with friends, he drew for 10 hours a day. He completed a portrait every two hours, sometimes as many as four portraits a day.
"I thought about how their families feel," he says. "There were soldiers who were 22 when they died, and the only thing I could think was, `Oh, my god, he's my age.'"
He kept his TV tuned to CNN. Normally even-tempered, he got frustrated with friends who didn't know the latest from Iraq.
"It is always on my mind, the war," he said.
The first exhibit of the portraits opened at the James R. Thompson Center in Chicago on Memorial Day. About a dozen families came to see the drawings. Many people wept. Some hugged Schilling.
"Looking at the portrait, you are looking at your kid," says Janet Maher, of Grayslake, whose 19-year-old son, Lance Cpl. Sean P. Maher, died in Iraq last year. "It seems as though his eyes are looking back at you."
"Just seeing the face, the eyes, the facial expression," says Judy Sutter, 54, of Tinley Park, whose son, Sgt. Michael Sutter, 28, died in 2003. "I thought, `My God, that could be my son standing right there.'"
`Someone cares'
"It is just nice to know that someone cares," says David Larson, whose son, Lance Cpl. Nicholas Larson, 19, died in 2004.
The exhibit has since toured a dozen towns and cities across the state. After the portraits are sent to the families this month, copies will continue to go on exhibit.
Schilling continues to sketch. The e-mails from the lieutenant governor's office come at a steady pace.
In his dorm room, on an old pine drawing table, Schilling keeps a pile of pictures. There is Army Spec. Charles Lamb -- with his big grin, and Army Sgt. Jessica Housby, with her deep eyes and beautiful shining hair. There is Lance Cpl. Adam Kaiser, Sgt. Shawna Morrison and Spec. Jacob Palmatier. Schilling knows all the names.
Sometimes, the lieutenant governor's office puts Schilling in touch with the families, who often share stories. In other cases, Schilling knows nothing about the person who has died.
At his drawing board, he puts the finishing touches on the portrait of Sgt. Gilbert. He wants the drawing to be perfect. "`His family is going to look at this," Schilling says, surveying his work and dabbing a gray gum eraser at an errant line. "His mom is going to look at this."
Schilling will graduate later this month, with a bachelor of arts degree in political science. He says he has thought about becoming an artist, or joining the Peace Corps. Sometimes, he thinks about enlisting. Mostly, he says, he hopes that he will not have to draw more portraits.
cmastony@tribune.com
Ellie
Student's gesture of condolence becomes a statewide tribute
By Colleen Mastony
Tribune staff reporter
Published December 15, 2006
A young man sketches a portrait of a fallen soldier. Pencil to paper, he begins with the eyes. An almond-shaped outline, a thin stroke for an eyelid. He blackens each pupil, adds a half-moon of reflection in the iris.
"There is a secret to the eyes," says Cameron Schilling, as he adds a glint of light to the pupil. "More than anything, the eyes are life. If I do them well, I can say to myself, 'It looks like he is staring back at me.' "
What began as a small gesture of condolence when Schilling sketched a portrait of a soldier from his hometown has become an ambitious effort to remember the dead from across the state. For two years, Schilling, a 22-year-old senior at Eastern Illinois University in Charleston, has been drawing pictures of GIs from Illinois who have been killed while on active duty.
Air Force pilots smiling proudly in their flight suits, steely-eyed Marines in their dress-blue uniforms, Army infantrymen in heavy helmets and camouflage fatigues. Schilling looks at their photos and studies their eyes. With his pencil and drawing pad, he tries to bring them to life.
"I've had mothers come up to me and say, 'I can't believe the look in his eyes,' " Schilling said. "When I hear that, I know I've sketched a good portrait."
Every time a member of the armed forces from Illinois is killed, the lieutenant governor's office sends Schilling an e-mail with a photograph. Schilling draws the portraits for free and frames them with white matting board. The so-far 140 drawings have toured the state as part of an exhibit called "Portrait of a Soldier." In the next few days, the drawings will be sent to the families.
On a recent day, Schilling clips to his drawing board a photo of Marine Sgt. Thomas M. Gilbert, a 24-year-old from Downers Grove, who died Oct. 25 while conducting combat operations in Al Anbar province, Iraq. In the photo, Gilbert is wearing his dress uniform; his white Marine Corps hat is pulled down low; and his eyes are set in an intent stare.
"He looks so determined," says Schilling, studying the photo. As his pencil moves across the paper, shading sections here and there, Schilling wonders aloud why Gilbert enlisted. He sharpens his pencil, and leans so close to his drawing that he is staring eye to eye with Gilbert.
"Knowing that all of these people died young, in a foreign land, not close to their family. What was it like, to die like that?"
Schilling drew his first portrait in summer 2004. He was working at his parents' funeral home in Mattoon, Ill., when a former high school classmate, Army Spec. Charles L. Neeley, 19, was killed in Iraq. Schilling helped with the memorial service and -- stunned by the war's first blow to his hometown -- decided to sketch a portrait and give it to the Neeley family.
A year passed, and the death toll reached 2,000. Over time, Schilling thought that people seemed to forget those who had died.
Contacted a few families
"I remember wondering if I could send sketches to other families," Schilling says. He logged onto the Internet, and found several memorial Web sites. A longtime amateur portraitist, he e-mailed a few families and asked if they would like sketches. Families sent photographs, and Schilling began to draw.
One of his first portraits was of Marine Cpl. Nathaniel K. Moore, 22, of Champaign, who was killed in a helicopter crash in Ar Rutbah, Iraq. In return for the portrait, Moore's sister gave Schilling a handwritten thank-you note. She also sent a black sketchbook.
Keep drawing, she wrote.
Schilling had completed about five more portraits when, in February, an aide in the lieutenant governor's office heard about the drawings and asked if Schilling would sketch all of the fallen service members from Illinois.
Schilling's roommate, Nathan Catt, 22, set up a Web site, www.portraitofasoldier.org. Schilling's girlfriend, Kendra Buchanan, 22, agreed to mat and prepare each portrait for mailing. Schilling's grandmother, Betty Schilling, 84, agreed to pay for the supplies, about $1,000 in pencils, paper and packaging.
Schilling stayed in his dorm over spring break. Instead of going to Florida with friends, he drew for 10 hours a day. He completed a portrait every two hours, sometimes as many as four portraits a day.
"I thought about how their families feel," he says. "There were soldiers who were 22 when they died, and the only thing I could think was, `Oh, my god, he's my age.'"
He kept his TV tuned to CNN. Normally even-tempered, he got frustrated with friends who didn't know the latest from Iraq.
"It is always on my mind, the war," he said.
The first exhibit of the portraits opened at the James R. Thompson Center in Chicago on Memorial Day. About a dozen families came to see the drawings. Many people wept. Some hugged Schilling.
"Looking at the portrait, you are looking at your kid," says Janet Maher, of Grayslake, whose 19-year-old son, Lance Cpl. Sean P. Maher, died in Iraq last year. "It seems as though his eyes are looking back at you."
"Just seeing the face, the eyes, the facial expression," says Judy Sutter, 54, of Tinley Park, whose son, Sgt. Michael Sutter, 28, died in 2003. "I thought, `My God, that could be my son standing right there.'"
`Someone cares'
"It is just nice to know that someone cares," says David Larson, whose son, Lance Cpl. Nicholas Larson, 19, died in 2004.
The exhibit has since toured a dozen towns and cities across the state. After the portraits are sent to the families this month, copies will continue to go on exhibit.
Schilling continues to sketch. The e-mails from the lieutenant governor's office come at a steady pace.
In his dorm room, on an old pine drawing table, Schilling keeps a pile of pictures. There is Army Spec. Charles Lamb -- with his big grin, and Army Sgt. Jessica Housby, with her deep eyes and beautiful shining hair. There is Lance Cpl. Adam Kaiser, Sgt. Shawna Morrison and Spec. Jacob Palmatier. Schilling knows all the names.
Sometimes, the lieutenant governor's office puts Schilling in touch with the families, who often share stories. In other cases, Schilling knows nothing about the person who has died.
At his drawing board, he puts the finishing touches on the portrait of Sgt. Gilbert. He wants the drawing to be perfect. "`His family is going to look at this," Schilling says, surveying his work and dabbing a gray gum eraser at an errant line. "His mom is going to look at this."
Schilling will graduate later this month, with a bachelor of arts degree in political science. He says he has thought about becoming an artist, or joining the Peace Corps. Sometimes, he thinks about enlisting. Mostly, he says, he hopes that he will not have to draw more portraits.
cmastony@tribune.com
Ellie