thedrifter
04-14-08, 07:53 AM
The healing powers of home
A family friend leads a cast of strangers who volunteer time and resources to remodel a house for Sgt. Jon Appel
Monday, April 14, 2008
ABBY HAIGHT
The Oregonian
NEWBERG -- More than two years after a car accident shattered Sgt. Jon Appel's life, ripples have spread through this community, building a remarkable bridge of support and giving.
Local businesses stepped forward to donate materials, and tradespeople worked overtime to retrofit a home for Appel, who requires constant care and uses a wheelchair. The work is worth an estimated $200,000, and it's not just wider halls and doorways.
The house for Appel, 37, is light, open and embracing. It is everything that the hospital and rehab rooms were not.
"I tell people he was a Marine," says Ashley Seaberg, a designer who led the remodel project. "He was chiseled. He had this strong, kind of silent, personality. And that's what I wanted to embody."
Appel arrived at his new home on a hill above downtown Newberg a week ago. He was exhausted by the flight from California, and family members say he is adjusting to his new home.
But they've already seen the home's healing powers.
Appel spoke five words. He signs "I love you," and has started using his hands to express his needs. His dad happily recounts how Appel -- always soft-spoken despite 11 years in the U.S. Marines -- uttered a curse.
The other day, Appel broke into a deep, belly laugh.
The small steps confirm what family and friends hoped.
"Medical technology can keep them alive, but home and family is what really makes them live," Seaberg says. Brain injury in car crash
Tom Appel learned of his son's accident on the evening news. A one-car, roll-over crash closed Oregon 217 on the afternoon of Aug. 18, 2005. The driver had overcorrected and his Jeep tumbled. The driver was ejected, flew through the air and landed on his head and shoulder.
Soon, the Appel family -- Tom and Barbara Appel divorced years ago, but lived nearby, as did Jon's older siblings -- was at Legacy Emanuel Hospital & Health Center, where Jon clung to life with a severe brain injury.
"If he hadn't wanted to live, he would have been dead a long time ago," his older sister, Mary Radcliffe, says.
Appel, 6-feet-3, was strong and athletic. He served in the Marines in Operation Desert Storm and in Mogadishu, Somalia. After completing his tour of duty, Appel enlisted in the Oregon Army National Guard and was on active duty when the accident occurred.
Appel had worked with Seaberg's husband, Pete.
"After the accident, you're just helpless," Ashley Seaberg says. "We just said, if there ever is a chance to help, we will."
Two years later, that chance arrived. Rehab far from home
Jon Appel's recovery took him to intensive rehabilitation programs in Chicago and California.
Last fall, he was scheduled to come home. He would require full-time care, and his days would be filled by speech, physical and occupational therapy. No one knew how much Appel would regain -- whether he would speak again, or walk, or move voluntarily. But his family believed Appel would do better in his own home with loved ones around him.
Seaberg, who owns Design Divas, had found her calling.
With help from the Department of Veterans Affairs, the family bought a house for less than $260,000 in a quiet neighborhood. Salute Inc., helped Radcliffe set up an account to take tax-deductible donations.
A plea for donations of labor and supplies on the evening news found the right person.
Builder Floyd Crouch of Coyote Commercial Construction, a branch of Newberg-based Coyote Homes Inc., answered.
Crouch called his subcontractors. "This is our backyard," he told them. "Let's jump in."
Zach Proctor, superintendent for Coyote Commercial, lent his hammer-and-nails expertise to Seaberg's design visions. He also got things started. A former Marine, Proctor called on his buddies to do the demolition.
"It feels good that we're in a position to do this," Proctor says.
An architect drew up blueprints. Electricians came by after work to hang the artistic lights. Cabinet makers volunteered overtime to customize the kitchen. A tiler stopped by "and just stayed," Proctor says. Granite countertops, landscaping, tile, glass, insulation, gutters, doors, plumbing, heating system, railing, ramps -- all free.
The list of thank-yous on Appel's Web site is long.
An anonymous donor paid for the estimated $5,000 in building permits. City inspectors gave Proctor their home phone numbers so they could sign off on work as soon as it was finished.
As Appel's arrival neared, work went round-the-clock. Proctor napped in his truck. Seaberg fell asleep on a ledge while painting. Getting to know his son
Jon Appel is home. Barbara Appel cares for him, but looks forward to returning to her home in Donald. Jon Appel's girlfriend, Michelle Ayala, is nearby with their son, Jon Michael, who is almost 2 and is getting to know his dad for the first time.
The house is almost finished.
But the Appels aren't.
The family wants the home to be a model for the VA and wants to show others how to successfully navigate federal and medical bureaucracy.
"We have to pay this forward," Radcliffe says. "That is the next step in this."
Abby Haight: 503-294-5917; abbyhaight@news.oregonian.com
Ellie
A family friend leads a cast of strangers who volunteer time and resources to remodel a house for Sgt. Jon Appel
Monday, April 14, 2008
ABBY HAIGHT
The Oregonian
NEWBERG -- More than two years after a car accident shattered Sgt. Jon Appel's life, ripples have spread through this community, building a remarkable bridge of support and giving.
Local businesses stepped forward to donate materials, and tradespeople worked overtime to retrofit a home for Appel, who requires constant care and uses a wheelchair. The work is worth an estimated $200,000, and it's not just wider halls and doorways.
The house for Appel, 37, is light, open and embracing. It is everything that the hospital and rehab rooms were not.
"I tell people he was a Marine," says Ashley Seaberg, a designer who led the remodel project. "He was chiseled. He had this strong, kind of silent, personality. And that's what I wanted to embody."
Appel arrived at his new home on a hill above downtown Newberg a week ago. He was exhausted by the flight from California, and family members say he is adjusting to his new home.
But they've already seen the home's healing powers.
Appel spoke five words. He signs "I love you," and has started using his hands to express his needs. His dad happily recounts how Appel -- always soft-spoken despite 11 years in the U.S. Marines -- uttered a curse.
The other day, Appel broke into a deep, belly laugh.
The small steps confirm what family and friends hoped.
"Medical technology can keep them alive, but home and family is what really makes them live," Seaberg says. Brain injury in car crash
Tom Appel learned of his son's accident on the evening news. A one-car, roll-over crash closed Oregon 217 on the afternoon of Aug. 18, 2005. The driver had overcorrected and his Jeep tumbled. The driver was ejected, flew through the air and landed on his head and shoulder.
Soon, the Appel family -- Tom and Barbara Appel divorced years ago, but lived nearby, as did Jon's older siblings -- was at Legacy Emanuel Hospital & Health Center, where Jon clung to life with a severe brain injury.
"If he hadn't wanted to live, he would have been dead a long time ago," his older sister, Mary Radcliffe, says.
Appel, 6-feet-3, was strong and athletic. He served in the Marines in Operation Desert Storm and in Mogadishu, Somalia. After completing his tour of duty, Appel enlisted in the Oregon Army National Guard and was on active duty when the accident occurred.
Appel had worked with Seaberg's husband, Pete.
"After the accident, you're just helpless," Ashley Seaberg says. "We just said, if there ever is a chance to help, we will."
Two years later, that chance arrived. Rehab far from home
Jon Appel's recovery took him to intensive rehabilitation programs in Chicago and California.
Last fall, he was scheduled to come home. He would require full-time care, and his days would be filled by speech, physical and occupational therapy. No one knew how much Appel would regain -- whether he would speak again, or walk, or move voluntarily. But his family believed Appel would do better in his own home with loved ones around him.
Seaberg, who owns Design Divas, had found her calling.
With help from the Department of Veterans Affairs, the family bought a house for less than $260,000 in a quiet neighborhood. Salute Inc., helped Radcliffe set up an account to take tax-deductible donations.
A plea for donations of labor and supplies on the evening news found the right person.
Builder Floyd Crouch of Coyote Commercial Construction, a branch of Newberg-based Coyote Homes Inc., answered.
Crouch called his subcontractors. "This is our backyard," he told them. "Let's jump in."
Zach Proctor, superintendent for Coyote Commercial, lent his hammer-and-nails expertise to Seaberg's design visions. He also got things started. A former Marine, Proctor called on his buddies to do the demolition.
"It feels good that we're in a position to do this," Proctor says.
An architect drew up blueprints. Electricians came by after work to hang the artistic lights. Cabinet makers volunteered overtime to customize the kitchen. A tiler stopped by "and just stayed," Proctor says. Granite countertops, landscaping, tile, glass, insulation, gutters, doors, plumbing, heating system, railing, ramps -- all free.
The list of thank-yous on Appel's Web site is long.
An anonymous donor paid for the estimated $5,000 in building permits. City inspectors gave Proctor their home phone numbers so they could sign off on work as soon as it was finished.
As Appel's arrival neared, work went round-the-clock. Proctor napped in his truck. Seaberg fell asleep on a ledge while painting. Getting to know his son
Jon Appel is home. Barbara Appel cares for him, but looks forward to returning to her home in Donald. Jon Appel's girlfriend, Michelle Ayala, is nearby with their son, Jon Michael, who is almost 2 and is getting to know his dad for the first time.
The house is almost finished.
But the Appels aren't.
The family wants the home to be a model for the VA and wants to show others how to successfully navigate federal and medical bureaucracy.
"We have to pay this forward," Radcliffe says. "That is the next step in this."
Abby Haight: 503-294-5917; abbyhaight@news.oregonian.com
Ellie