thedrifter
05-17-07, 08:43 AM
Rehab center provides place for wounded vets to heal
By Linda Bordner,
Star-News Correspondent
Libby Chessare's late husband, Joe, fought in World War II, but he never spoke to her about those days.
"We were married after the war," she says. "I asked him, but he wouldn't tell me anything, not even where he was." Later, others told her of his role in fierce firefights in Iwo Jima's island caves.
So when her VFW Post 8866 Ladies Auxiliary in Holden Beach invited her to visit Camp Lejeune's Wounded Warrior Barracks in Jacksonville, she had mixed expectations. "It had been a long time since I'd been to Camp Lejeune," Chessare said. "I expected a hospital atmosphere with beds in a row. I was most impressed."
Nothing prepared her for the comfortable, separate suite layout of the unit, or injured residents' upbeat attitude. It's part of new thinking on how best to treat wounded troops suddenly back in the states without the outfits they were trained to fight with or those who understand what they're going through.
That's what motivated Gunnery Sgt. Ken Barnes and Lt. Col. Timothy Maxwell, both wounded Marines themselves, to develop a place injured Marines and sailors could heal both body and mind.
Team effort
Deborah Crowder, state Ladies Auxiliary president, explains the difference between recuperation at the barracks versus home. "Loved ones do tend to wait on them hand and foot. Here they're challenged to do things for themselves."
Despite private sleeping quarters, built-in safeguards discourage isolation. Watching big-screen TV requires being with peers in shared areas. Separate family housing lets loved ones stay connected.
Bearing its founder's name, Maxwell Hall bridges the gap between independence and trust. For example, Crowder said, wheelchair ramps afford access to recreation space from the outside. So chair-bound amputees have a choice: Either roll outdoors, whatever the weather, around the building to enter, or ask a buddy for help up inside steps.
Adapting to their new circumstance within Marine disciplines they understand helps. New arrivals fall into different squads according to mobility or injury severity. Everyone has assigned work duty. Those in the first squad are wrapped up in doctor appointments. Later, in the second or third squad, they may read to kids at the base school or assist teachers by tutoring students. Squad four transitions them back to active duty or home.
The occasion for the tour was national Ladies Auxiliary President Linda Meader's annual visit to North Carolina. Besides a trip to the Battleship North Carolina and regional attractions, she was able to see auxiliary efforts in action. At the barracks, they presented 150 phone calling cards on behalf of the state auxiliary and a check for the Wounded Warriors mission.
Man's best friend
Accompanying them was Rick Hairston of Carolina Canines with retired service dog Moses. The black lab immediately won residents' hearts. The state auxiliary's ongoing project to provide a returning veteran a service dog aims to raise $30,000, the estimated cost of extensive three-year training each dog requires.
Hairston wants to do even more by seeking approval for a program in which military prison inmates train service dogs, as civilian prisons have done. He thinks the project could produce enough skilled dogs in a few years for every wounded veteran needing one.
Auxiliary Post 8866 President Pat Nash praised Jacksonville's community support of Maxwell Hall, which has included donating furniture and other amenities. Auxiliary member Gwyn Doggett found the experience "uplifting," noting there was no self-pity among Marines she met. "I guess it shouldn't surprise me," she says. "After all, if they did, they wouldn't be Marines in the first place."
Of all the sights and sounds, Crowder says arriving as reveille played was especially moving. "I was running late. But so many times God knows better than we do when we're a little behind schedule. I'd just come in the gate as Marines raised the flag. It was amazing."
Lighter moments
Fellow auxiliary member Janice Butterworth also heard an unexpected sound. "I thought it would be depressing," she says of the visit. Instead she heard laughter and joking from buddies comfortable with themselves and each other.
Pranksters are legendary, like the guy who'd adorn his head with refrigerator magnets, thanks to the metal plate in his skull.
Butterworth says the barracks bulletin board displays residents' progress from admission to transition, usually back to active service. "They really believe in what they're doing," Chessare adds.
Even once they leave, these Marines won't be forgotten. In a unique tracking system, peers contact not only recent members to see how they're doing but also those who've move back home or to other facilities.
"We had a great time with them," Gunnery Sgt. Bill Rosborough says of the Ladies Auxiliary visit. "My guys are kind of modest and quiet about their injuries. But whenever the American public comes and asks them questions, especially of an older generation, it reminds them of grandma or mom."
"Reinforcement is good," he says. "To know that people are thinking about them and care, that what happened to them wasn't for no cause, it means a lot."
As a Marine, he knows. He remembers vividly the date his world changed - Oct. 7, 2004. An explosive-packed truck slammed into his command post in Alkasik in northern Iraq. Fracturing his face and frontal sinuses and leaving mild traumatic brain injury, the blast also cut through nerves and tendons above his left elbow.
Today Rosborough works on staff in the tracking unit. "In the past a lot of injured were overlooked. Here Marines and sailors take care of Marines and sailors with similar problems," he says.
Chessare feels better knowing at least these Marines will have something her husband didn't. "They don't just drop them off and forget about them," she says. "After World War II, once you were out, nobody called to see how you were doing." She presses her lips and nods. "They really needed that."
Ellie
By Linda Bordner,
Star-News Correspondent
Libby Chessare's late husband, Joe, fought in World War II, but he never spoke to her about those days.
"We were married after the war," she says. "I asked him, but he wouldn't tell me anything, not even where he was." Later, others told her of his role in fierce firefights in Iwo Jima's island caves.
So when her VFW Post 8866 Ladies Auxiliary in Holden Beach invited her to visit Camp Lejeune's Wounded Warrior Barracks in Jacksonville, she had mixed expectations. "It had been a long time since I'd been to Camp Lejeune," Chessare said. "I expected a hospital atmosphere with beds in a row. I was most impressed."
Nothing prepared her for the comfortable, separate suite layout of the unit, or injured residents' upbeat attitude. It's part of new thinking on how best to treat wounded troops suddenly back in the states without the outfits they were trained to fight with or those who understand what they're going through.
That's what motivated Gunnery Sgt. Ken Barnes and Lt. Col. Timothy Maxwell, both wounded Marines themselves, to develop a place injured Marines and sailors could heal both body and mind.
Team effort
Deborah Crowder, state Ladies Auxiliary president, explains the difference between recuperation at the barracks versus home. "Loved ones do tend to wait on them hand and foot. Here they're challenged to do things for themselves."
Despite private sleeping quarters, built-in safeguards discourage isolation. Watching big-screen TV requires being with peers in shared areas. Separate family housing lets loved ones stay connected.
Bearing its founder's name, Maxwell Hall bridges the gap between independence and trust. For example, Crowder said, wheelchair ramps afford access to recreation space from the outside. So chair-bound amputees have a choice: Either roll outdoors, whatever the weather, around the building to enter, or ask a buddy for help up inside steps.
Adapting to their new circumstance within Marine disciplines they understand helps. New arrivals fall into different squads according to mobility or injury severity. Everyone has assigned work duty. Those in the first squad are wrapped up in doctor appointments. Later, in the second or third squad, they may read to kids at the base school or assist teachers by tutoring students. Squad four transitions them back to active duty or home.
The occasion for the tour was national Ladies Auxiliary President Linda Meader's annual visit to North Carolina. Besides a trip to the Battleship North Carolina and regional attractions, she was able to see auxiliary efforts in action. At the barracks, they presented 150 phone calling cards on behalf of the state auxiliary and a check for the Wounded Warriors mission.
Man's best friend
Accompanying them was Rick Hairston of Carolina Canines with retired service dog Moses. The black lab immediately won residents' hearts. The state auxiliary's ongoing project to provide a returning veteran a service dog aims to raise $30,000, the estimated cost of extensive three-year training each dog requires.
Hairston wants to do even more by seeking approval for a program in which military prison inmates train service dogs, as civilian prisons have done. He thinks the project could produce enough skilled dogs in a few years for every wounded veteran needing one.
Auxiliary Post 8866 President Pat Nash praised Jacksonville's community support of Maxwell Hall, which has included donating furniture and other amenities. Auxiliary member Gwyn Doggett found the experience "uplifting," noting there was no self-pity among Marines she met. "I guess it shouldn't surprise me," she says. "After all, if they did, they wouldn't be Marines in the first place."
Of all the sights and sounds, Crowder says arriving as reveille played was especially moving. "I was running late. But so many times God knows better than we do when we're a little behind schedule. I'd just come in the gate as Marines raised the flag. It was amazing."
Lighter moments
Fellow auxiliary member Janice Butterworth also heard an unexpected sound. "I thought it would be depressing," she says of the visit. Instead she heard laughter and joking from buddies comfortable with themselves and each other.
Pranksters are legendary, like the guy who'd adorn his head with refrigerator magnets, thanks to the metal plate in his skull.
Butterworth says the barracks bulletin board displays residents' progress from admission to transition, usually back to active service. "They really believe in what they're doing," Chessare adds.
Even once they leave, these Marines won't be forgotten. In a unique tracking system, peers contact not only recent members to see how they're doing but also those who've move back home or to other facilities.
"We had a great time with them," Gunnery Sgt. Bill Rosborough says of the Ladies Auxiliary visit. "My guys are kind of modest and quiet about their injuries. But whenever the American public comes and asks them questions, especially of an older generation, it reminds them of grandma or mom."
"Reinforcement is good," he says. "To know that people are thinking about them and care, that what happened to them wasn't for no cause, it means a lot."
As a Marine, he knows. He remembers vividly the date his world changed - Oct. 7, 2004. An explosive-packed truck slammed into his command post in Alkasik in northern Iraq. Fracturing his face and frontal sinuses and leaving mild traumatic brain injury, the blast also cut through nerves and tendons above his left elbow.
Today Rosborough works on staff in the tracking unit. "In the past a lot of injured were overlooked. Here Marines and sailors take care of Marines and sailors with similar problems," he says.
Chessare feels better knowing at least these Marines will have something her husband didn't. "They don't just drop them off and forget about them," she says. "After World War II, once you were out, nobody called to see how you were doing." She presses her lips and nods. "They really needed that."
Ellie