Naked hide-and-seek gone bad; pay stripper in real money; basement escape
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Odd and interesting news from the Midwest.
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DES MOINES, Iowa (AP) — A group of students at a Des Moines high school has brewed and branded a root beer recipe as part of a two-year project.
"Rider Root Beer" was created by chemistry students at Theodore Roosevelt High School, The Des Moines Register (http://dmreg.co/1RbpJwm) reported. Student entrepreneurs and artists helped brand the product.
Roosevelt teacher Kate Galligan said the project was part of the STEM initiative, which helps bring relevant science, technology, engineering and mathematics issues to the classroom.
Galligan said the students worked in groups to create the recipe, which includes a hint of chocolate.
"They wanted to do something with a little different twist to it," Galligan said. "It took a long time to do this inquiry-based lab."
Seniors Kate Chartier, 17, is one of the students who has been working to "perfect" the root beer on and off during science courses since her sophomore year.
"(We learned through) trial and error," Chartier said. "Not everything works, you know? You have to develop it."
Confluence Brewing Company bottled about 800 32-ounce growlers of the beverage. The school is selling them for $10 each.
Confluence and local graphic design company 818 helped the students brand the root beer with artwork.
"In order to create a good product you have to put in a lot of work," said Henry Gunderson, a 17-year-old entrepreneurial student.
Roosevelt principal Kevin Biggs said he believes the project helped students gained real-world skills.
"It's a dream come true," Biggs said. "This is a perfect example of how education can be used in a deep, meaningful process."
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Information from: The Des Moines Register, http://www.desmoinesregister.com
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WINONA, Minn. (AP) — A former Winona County jailer is accused of downloading nude photos from the cellphones of people booked into the county jail.
Charges filed against Ryan Brown also say the 31-year-old St. Charles man used those photos as leverage to get additional pictures from the subjects involved.
Winona Daily News (http://bit.ly/1TgZb4r ) says Brown is charged with stalking, misconduct and computer theft. The complaint says in one case, the girlfriend of a man in jail said she received Facebook messages from an individual telling her he had nude photos of her and if she didn't send him more pictures he would post the ones he had on a "revenge porn" website.
Brown is scheduled to make his first court appearance June 15. It was not immediately clear if Brown has an attorney.
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Information from: Winona Daily News, http://www.winonadailynews.com
- By JONATHAN TURNER The Rock Island Argus
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ROCK ISLAND, Ill. (AP) — Felix Weil is only alive today because of the generosity of England, which took in European Jewish children in 1938-39.
A native of Frankfurt-am-Main, Mr. Weil told his harrowing story of escape as an 11-year-old at the annual Yom Hashoah Holocaust Remembrance, held at Congregation Beth Israel, Tri-City Jewish Center.
"At 11, I lost the most precious gift that God gives us," he said of his parents and sister, whom he had to leave behind on Aug. 10, 1939, on a train to freedom. Three weeks before the start of World War II (Sept. 1, 1939), Mr. Weil's was the second-to-last train to escape Nazi Germany with Jewish children — among just 10,000 who were part of the Kindertransport program.
"That seems like a lot, but when you think of one and a half million children being murdered (in the Holocaust), it's a very small amount of children," he said. The United Kingdom was the only country in the world that offered to give refuge to Europe's Jewish youngsters, Mr. Weil said.
The U.S. Congress considered legislation that proposed admitting 20,000 German refugee children, but opposition stopped it. Mr. Weil cited a remark by FDR's cousin, Laura Delano Houghteling, the wife of the U.S. commissioner of immigration, who warned "20,000 charming children would all too soon grow into 20,000 ugly adults."
The impetus was the infamous Kristallnacht (or "night of crystal"), on Nov. 9 and 10, 1938, when nearly 100 Jews were murdered and 30,000 more were sent to concentration camps. Seven hundred synagogues were burned down by Nazis, more than 7,000 Jewish-owned business destroyed, and the massive amount of shattered glass from windows of Jewish homes and shops gave the onslaught its name.
Part of the reason for that destruction was the fact Adolf Hitler wanted to see if he would face consequences from other nations, Mr. Weil said.
"Do you know what happened? Nothing," he said. "Absolutely nothing."
Many Jewish families sent their children (ages 2-16) via the Kindertransport to escape an oncoming catastrophe.
"To this day, I can vividly remember ... our parents always told us, 'We're going to sell the home, sell our car, close the bank account, and we'll be with you in a matter of five, six weeks,'" Mr. Weil said. "Of course, children believe their parents."
But he was among the 9,000 of the 10,000 kids in Kindertransport to never see their parents again. Even German Jewish adults who accompanied the children to England (starting Dec. 2, 1938) had to return to Germany, likely killed by the Nazis, Mr. Weil said.
He learned that Oct, 19, 1941, the last contingent of remaining Jews in his town were sent to the Lodz ghetto in Poland for "liquidation," meaning they would die in the camps. Of his long trip west, Mr. Weil said it "was a big adventure," going to a new country, learning a new language, and being free from persecution.
The day he left, his mother was "sitting with tears rolling down her face," he recalled. "This was going to be the last day she would ever see her son."
Most of the transports left by train from Vienna, Berlin, Prague and other major cities, crossed the Dutch and Belgian borders, and went on by ship to England. Mr. Weil praised the Dutch people for taking risks by hiding Jews, taking them into their homes, and welcoming them during Kindertransport.
When he arrived in England, he didn't speak much English; two words being "ice cream," he said. He was taken in by a kind Christian family and stayed in England for the rest of the war. In 1945, an aunt and uncle brought Mr. Weil to the U.S., and he arrived April 12, 1945, the same day FDR died.
A year later, Mr. Weil was drafted by the U.S. Army and sent back to Germany, where he served 18 months with occupation forces, before coming back to America. He graduated from Kent State University and has lived in Dayton, Ohio, since 1950. He and his wife Frances have two children and a grandchild.
The fate of children during the Holocaust was addressed by other speakers Sunday. The Rev. Jay Wolin (of the Unitarian Universalist Congregation) read a remembrance from a survivor of Treblinka. In gas chambers, victims choked and died within 25 minutes.
"It was terrible to hear the screaming, the agony of the women and children," Eliyahu Rosenberg had said, noting over 350 Jews were killed at a time.
Sam Rothbardt — of Pleasant Valley Junior High and winner of the "Children and the Holocaust" essay contest — read his essay on Holocaust survivor Jack Gruener.
Other speakers touched on horrendous life in a ghetto, mistreatment of blacks in the Holocaust, a rescuer of children, resistance of the Nazis, and remembered those in our area who were victims of Nazi persecution, escaped the Holocaust or survived it.
The Rev. Richard Priggie, of Augustana College, read from a Lodz Ghetto survivor, who described dead bodies, filth everywhere, and forced labor where the survivor, Bruno Helmer, saw a Nazi official take a little child, whose mother was there, and swing it against a wall, killing it.
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Source: The Rock Island Argus, http://bit.ly/24CF8z7
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Information from: The Rock Island Argus, http://www.qconline.com/index.shtml
This is an AP-Illinois Exchange story offered by The Rock Island Argus.
- By DAVID EGGERT Associated Press
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LANSING, Mich. (AP) — Michigan House Speaker Kevin Cotter must testify in open court in the criminal case of two former lawmakers who were forced from office in a sex scandal, a judge ruled Thursday.
Lansing District Judge Hugh Clarke Jr. denied the Republican leader's motion to quash Todd Courser and Cindy Gamrat's subpoena for him to answer questions next week in the preliminary examination, which will determine if there is enough evidence to proceed to trial. Clarke also changed course and said Cotter will not first be questioned privately in the judge's chambers.
Cotter had claimed legislative immunity under the Michigan Constitution's speech and debate clause. Clarke said the provision applies to civil but not criminal cases, and the most of the questions submitted by the defendants cannot be answered by anyone other than Cotter.
"We disagree strongly with Judge Clarke's ruling," Cotter spokesman Gideon D'Assandro said. "We believe the constitution is clear, and he has seriously misread it. We look forward to asserting our rights on appeal."
Gamrat, who was expelled by the House in September, and Courser, who resigned the same day rather than be kicked out, are accused of felony misconduct in office stemming from a House investigation into a bizarre attempted cover-up of their extramarital affair. Courser faces a felony perjury charge, too.
The Republicans also face charges they that told staff to forge their signatures on legislation.
Courser has admitted to devising an explicit phony email that said he had been caught having sex with a male prostitute behind a Lansing nightclub. He explained that he thought his tale would make the affair less plausible if it was revealed by an anonymous extortionist who — acting at the behest of Gamrat's husband Joe, according to a later state police investigation — sent him and Gamrat text messages demanding that they resign.
Courser and Gamrat have said Cotter orchestrated their removal from office for political reasons. Clarke ruled earlier this week that Cotter's top aide and other House employees can be called to testify in the probable cause hearing.
Gamrat's attorney Mike Nichols said "nobody's sky is going to fall" if Cotter testifies.
"He's an important witness because he's all over this case," he said.
The judge cautioned that the defendants' lawyers will not be allowed to probe into Cotter's speech, debate, voting or "anything he did in the (House) chamber or committee meetings." Questions could relate to "routine administrative matters" and his statements during an interview with the state police or anyone from the state attorney general's office, Clarke said.
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Follow David Eggert on Twitter at http://twitter.com/DavidEggert00 . His work can be found at http://bigstory.ap.org/author/david-eggert
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COLUMBUS, Ohio (AP) — A suburban Columbus police department says one of its officers has been killed in a motorcycle crash during an on-duty training exercise.
Hilliard police say the crash happened at about 2 p.m. Thursday at State Route 161 and Interstate 270, northeast of Columbus.
Hilliard police Chief Robert Fisher said the officer killed was 16-year veteran Sean Johnson, who was training to ride the motorcycle as part of the department's traffic control unit.
Fisher didn't release details of how the crash happened.
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AUGUSTA, Mo. (AP) — A Missouri fire official says a teenager has survived a 50-foot fall from a bluff near Augusta west of St. Louis.
Assistant chief Paul Hopen of the August Fire Protection District tells the St. Louis Post-Dispatch (http://bit.ly/1NAEEFv ) that the victim sustained injuries not considered life-threatening during the tumble in Klondike Park.
Hopen says the teenager and his friend were in an area of the park they shouldn't have been, out on the rocks near a cliff, when he slipped and tumbled, and a tree broke his fall.
Hopen says the teenager sustained cuts and bruises and was alert and responsive when he was flown to a St. Louis hospital for evaluation.
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Information from: St. Louis Post-Dispatch, http://www.stltoday.com
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ROYAL OAK, Mich. (AP) — A white-tailed deer wandered into a zoo in suburban Detroit before it was caught and returned to the wild.
MLive.com reports (http://bit.ly/1sC5Ev9 ) Thursday that the deer was roaming Wednesday through the Detroit Zoo in Royal Oak, a few miles north of Detroit.
Zoo spokeswoman Patricia Janeway says all gates were closed and visitors to the venue were not allowed to enter or leave as staff worked to catch the deer. It eventually was cornered in a wooded area and subdued with a tranquilizer dark.
She says the deer was treated for symptoms of hypothermia and was doing well when released Thursday in a nearby state park.
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Information from: The Grand Rapids Press:MLive.com, http://www.mlive.com
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FLINT, Mich. (AP) — Rapper Snoop Dogg and former Toronto Raptors player Morris Peterson are hosting a celebrity basketball game to help Flint amid the city's crisis with lead-tainted water.
"Hoop 4 Water" is scheduled for Saturday at the Dort Federal Credit Union Event Center.
In January, Snoop Dogg met with Flint Mayor Karen Weaver during a water drive in the city. Peterson, who is from Flint, tells The Flint Journal (http://bit.ly/1YETJX7 ) that the rapper is "concerned with what he can do for the city."
Proceeds from the event will go toward the Morris Peterson Jr. Foundation for water relief efforts.
Flint switched in 2014 to using the Flint River but failed to add the proper chemical treatment. Lead from old pipes leached into the water, and people were exposed for months.
- By EMMA KATE FITTES The Star Press
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MUNCIE, Ind. (AP) — Local fourth-graders have been experiencing a piece of Indiana's history at the restored 1900s Corinth School for years. But keeping costs low for students, just $2 each, leaves little money to cover utilities.
While the one-room building, built in 1875, didn't use utilities back in the day, modern state code requires heat and electricity, said Robert Kellems, a member of The Friends of Corinth School. The nonprofit is looking for more donations, and holding an open house later this month.
He said they will do everything they can to keep the building open, but money is a concern.
Corinth is the last one-room schoolhouse left in Delaware County, Kellems said. It was restored and has welcomed modern-day classes on field trips since 2001.
On May 11, students arrived in 1900s-style clothing. Girls wore bonnets and long skirts; boys wore suspenders. They did math and history lessons on slates with chalk. Ruth Swetnam, the school marm, explained that she wasn't allowed to be a teacher and be married, and that the male teacher down the street made 20 cents more than her.
"We stay in the 1900s all day," Swetnam said. "The children really enjoy this field trip because they don't have any concept of what school was like when all the grades, 1 through 6, were in the same classroom
Perhaps the most baffling part to students was the outdoor bathroom. The school has an outhouse with no modern plumbing, although the toilets do have seats in order to meet state code.
A few agreed the best part was learning to write with dip pens, although the ink did get messy.
"This is all part of the Indiana history that they are learning in the fourth grade," Swetnam said. "They can relate what they are reading in the books to their actual experiences."
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Source: The (Muncie) Star Press, http://tspne.ws/1OypaNa
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Information from: The Star Press, http://www.thestarpress.com
This is an AP-Indiana Exchange story offered by The (Muncie) Star Press.
- By KARLEE RENKOSKI Columbia Missourian
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COLUMBIA, Mo. (AP) — Denny Fox still keeps his wife's voicemail greeting on his home phone even though it brings one of his friends nearly to tears every time he hears it.
Fox's wife, Cindy Fox, hasn't spoken in 10 months. She used to teach high school and college English classes until four years ago when she began to forget the language that was so dear to her.
Sixty-eight-year-old Cindy Fox was diagnosed with primary progressive aphasia, a brain condition in which language capabilities become impaired, which then evolved into Alzheimer's. The doctors said it would get worse, and there were no treatments or medication that could prevent or stall it.
The Columbia Missourian (http://bit.ly/1VRNEZD ) reports that after being a teacher for over 30 years, her biggest loss at the time was the ability to teach and influence students with language.
As time went by, Cindy Fox was only able to write her husband three-word notes. The first two words were always "I'll be." The third would be something like shower, lunch, bed or bathroom.
"That was enough for a while to give me a hint of what she wanted," Denny Fox said. "But her spelling deteriorated, and after that she would lead me to different places in the house."
Now, Denny Fox does almost everything for his wife. He bathes her, helps her in the bathroom, dresses her, and cooks and cleans the house.
According to an estimate by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, more than 5.3 million Americans are living with Alzheimer's in the U.S. Eighty percent of those with the disease receive care in their homes from someone like Denny Fox — an ordinary person, compelled by love and duty to take the role of caregiver.
It's often thankless work, but caregivers say planning ahead, seeking support from others in the same position and finding time away from the person with Alzheimer's are the key to making it work.
Denny Fox's advice to early caregivers is to be willing to adjust their thinking and lifestyle and not be afraid to ask for help and suggestions.
"People always say necessity is the mother of invention," Denny Fox said. "You have certain problems, and there's no book, so you just have to find a way to do it and get through it."
Alzheimer's is the sixth leading cause of death in the U.S., and of the top 10 causes, it is the only one that cannot be prevented, cured or slowed, according to the National Alzheimer's Association.
The Alzheimer's Association is the dominant health organization for Alzheimer's support and research by providing care and support for people affected by Alzheimer's, specifically caregivers.
Joetta Coen is an associate director of the Alzheimer's Association Greater Missouri Chapter in Columbia and also leads the men's support group on the third Thursday of the month.
Sometimes, she said, caregivers don't know what they're getting into when they decide to take care of a family member with Alzheimer's, especially the children of people with the disease. Caregivers often don't realize how devastating the disease will be for them as well as their loved one.
According to Alzheimer's Association statistics, nearly half of care contributors cut back on their own expenses to pay for the care of a family member or friend with Alzheimer's. Caregivers are 28 percent more likely to eat less or go hungry, and one in five caregivers cut back on their own doctor visits due to their caregiver responsibilities.
And 74 percent of caregivers reported that they are "somewhat" to "very" concerned about maintaining their health since becoming a caregiver, according to the Alzheimer's Association.
That's why the organization puts a big emphasis on support groups.
"People can come to support groups and express their stresses, ask questions and know that they're not alone," Coen said. "There's this brotherhood or sisterhood."
After Cindy Fox was diagnosed, Denny Fox, 68, decided to retire from selling insurance to take care of her. He said he has always been a patient person, but coaching basketball for 37 years before selling insurance also improved his patience and persistence with his wife.
"It's kind of tough when there's not going to be any improvement, but you just keep doing the things you have to do," Denny Fox said.
His wife is a gentle person as she shuffles around the house, but she has become a little more stubborn when he tries to get her onto the toilet or into the shower. He said the scariest thing is not knowing if she's in pain because she can't communicate with him.
Cindy Fox has choked from food obstructions in her airway twice since being diagnosed. Both times Denny Fox performed the Heimlich maneuver, chest compression and mouth-to-mouth to get her breathing again while waiting for emergency personnel.
He has made adjustments. Like finding a way to secure the TV remote after his wife lost three of them. Or modifying the freezer door so it swings back by itself if she leaves it open. He has fixed padlocks to the doors in the house so she can't get into food cabinets or into the garage where she has sometimes gone to get into the car.
Occasionally, he wishes he could have a day off. But paying for an additional caregiver costs $13 an hour, and that adds up. He can only afford to pay a caregiver when he goes to support group meetings. Those are a priority.
Denny Fox looked into nursing homes, which were about $4,500 a month, plus $1,000 more for memory care patients. He feels like he's paying himself that amount to stay home.
"There might be a time or two a month when I wish that she would be in a nursing home," Denny Fox said. "But I think I give her more personal care and more immediate attention. My intention is to keep her home as long as I possibly can."
Denny Fox admitted he gets lonely sometimes, despite phone calls from family and friends. He's grateful to have his wife's company, whether they can have a conversation or not, but he misses being able to tell her about things he sees or hears throughout the day.
Denny Fox said at this point, there is very little going on in his wife's brain. He suspects she only understands he's someone important in her life.
"I don't think she understands a spousal relationship," he said. "It's still a loving relationship, but it's not like it used to be at all."
Fifty-five-year-old Amelia Cottle and 56-year-old Brian Cottle have been very vocal about their experience with the disease. They don't want to be known as the "Alzheimer's people," but they try to share their story if it helps make a difference in the community.
Brian Cottle was diagnosed in 2012 with early onset Alzheimer's disease.
"I had a suspicion, but to hear it from a neurologist is a tough one," Amelia Cottle said. "Everything changes."
Brian Cottle retired shortly after diagnosis, and Amelia Cottle quit working in January 2014 when her husband could no longer be left alone. His memory, speech, sight and other cognitive abilities have deteriorated rapidly over the past four years.
She made changes to their house to accommodate her husband. She put bright tape on door handles and the toilet so he can see them better. She adapted recipes to allow him to eat with more dignity. Smaller pieces. Foods that can be eaten with a spork.
Amelia Cottle also began attending support groups immediately after the diagnosis. Now she moderates the women's support group and helps coordinate a breakfast for Alzheimer's patients and their caregiving spouses once a month.
She's noticed that sometimes caregivers become isolated in their belief that their experience is singular. The breakfast and support groups remind caregivers that they're not alone.
"There's a recognition that every day these people are dealing with the same thing with the same phase, earlier or later," Amelia Cottle said. "You love them because you understand their battle."
Amelia Cottle said she was honored when asked to moderate the women's support group at the Alzheimer's Association in Columbia. Although she is younger than many people in the group, she draws on her research ability, background in clinical work and her own experiences in helping other caregivers.
Amelia Cottle's advice to new Alzheimer's caregivers is to "get all of your ducks in a row." This includes putting together a medical plan and community of trustworthy doctors, as well as getting all legal documents lined up. She also said it's important to get it done early because the more the person with Alzheimer's can be involved in the transitioning, the better.
"The hardest part of caregiving is watching someone you love descending and descending and descending," Amelia Cottle said. "With illnesses, a person is either going to get better, or they're going to get worse. With this one, there's never any hope."
The second hardest part of caregiving for her husband is the mental struggle. As the main caregiver for her husband, she often wonders if she is making the right decisions, evaluates everything he does and at times questions her sanity. Amelia Cottle said it's exhausting.
To combat her mental struggle, Amelia Cottle researches as much as she can about the disease. It helps her make decisions and adapt to the "increased need and the decreased cognitive ability."
The up side is what she's learned about herself. She's been amazed to find out how much patience she possesses.
But she misses interactions with people, like going to lunch with friends and sharing interesting observations with her husband.
"Sometimes I feel alone," Amelia Cottle said. "I know I'm not, but it's that mental state where your whole day is spent constantly watching or listening to make sure you don't need to help with something."
She takes a break from the stress of caregiving by reading, which allows her to keep an eye on her husband at the same time. Caregiver support groups are also an important way to get away for a few hours.
Amelia Cottle enjoys the calm of being in the same room as her husband and often touches his hand or plays with his ponytail. She said part of her time is spent storing up memories because she knows she'll miss him after the disease runs its course.
"This is life, and this is what we do," Amelia Cottle said. "You can only control the things you can."
For 82-year-old Pat Etienne, who was diagnosed with mild cognitive impairment, or early stage Alzheimer's, in 2011, that sense of control comes from staying active in the community and her spiritual center. Especially when she'd rather stay home.
Although she lives with her oldest daughter, Etienne has remained very independent because the progression of the disease has been fairly slow.
Etienne sought a diagnosis after noticing that some of the questions on an Alzheimer's test administered to her brother were a challenge for her. She knew she was in trouble when her daughters began saying, "Mom, we told you that," because she had found herself saying that to her brother.
A neurologist confirmed that she had early stage Alzheimer's. Etienne tried three different recommended medications, but since they wouldn't stall the disease and had some side effects, she decided not to take them.
Etienne has long-term care insurance as well as three "outgoing and caring daughters." They've discussed their mother's future and recognize she will require more intensive care and supervision in the years to come.
The daughters already help Etienne with big decisions because Alzheimer's has affected her judgment. They also watch for signs of change, whether it's in her driving or cognitive behaviors.
Aisha Kareem, Etienne's daughter and housemate, said she expects to assume increased responsibility for her mom's care as the disease progresses.
Kareem does most of the cooking, keeps her mother focused on a particular task when she forgets and reminds her to use her calendar. As a nurse, Kareem is also attentive to her mother's health and accompanies her to appointments.
Etienne respects the responsibility her daughters feel for her but is also attentive to her own caregiving.
Although she would rather do passive things like sitting at home, she recognizes the importance of "staying in the game" by being active and maintaining contacts and relationships.
Etienne currently serves as a National Early Stage Advisor for the National Alzheimer's Association along with 11 other people. She said she is "used extensively as an advocate ... and a spokesperson for the mid-Missouri Alzheimer's Association chapter."
She is very involved in the spiritual center, Unity of Columbia, and said the people there have supported her since the diagnosis. They value her experience and ask her to volunteer in the office as well as make sure she shows up for meetings and events.
"They've supported in such a way that has never allowed me to feel sorry for myself," Etienne said. "I still have to show up. They won't let me say no."
She has learned to tell people she meets that she may not remember them later but encourages them to say hello and remind her who they are and how they met. She doesn't want people to be standoffish.
She also plays Scrabble and Words with Friends "religiously," which helps her chart her memory loss.
Although there are many things Etienne has forgotten how to do, she said she hasn't forgotten how to ask for help.
"If I want to be a participant in my own life for as long as possible, then I have to recognize that I have to ask people for what I want or need," Etienne said. "The hardest thing is to acknowledge it's a different game with different rules. My curse is that I'm aware enough to know I'm not aware."
Reaching a breaking point
Many Alzheimer's patients are not aware of their disease, or their awareness fades over time, and some still live alone. For this reason, Joel Shenker, an MU Health Care neurologist, said the demand for caregivers is greater than the supply. They're needed to accompany Alzheimer's patients to appointments, verify medications have been taken correctly and watch a patient's movements around the house.
"Only a caregiver can be the glue that holds that together because a patient can't do that anymore," Shenker said.
"But, in a sense, it's unhealthy to be a caregiver," he said.
He cited a guideline from the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education that limits resident physicians, who are usually young and healthy, to a maximum of 80 hours of work a week because their health can suffer if that amount is exceeded. The average work time for caregivers of Alzheimer's, or other related dementias, is 80 hours a week, and usually they're much older, he said.
Some Alzheimer's caregivers have to make decisions they weren't used to making before and can't be as productive as they wish to be, which can cause depression. Sometimes caregivers, most often spouses, are unhealthy from the beginning.
When the needs of the patient are physically and emotionally more than a caregiver can provide, nursing homes and assisted living facilities should come into play, he said.
Caregivers often tell Shenker they feel it's selfish not to care for a loved one with Alzheimer's. But Shenker said they need to recognize the consequences for themselves and the patient.
The Alzheimer's Association emphasizes the importance of caregiver' health. Taking breaks, keeping up with personal medical needs and finding support from family, friends and other caregivers can help maintain effective caregiving.
"It's never selfish to take care of yourself," Coen said. "As long as you feel good, you're able to provide the care. If you don't feel good physically, emotionally and mentally, you're shortchanging your loved one."
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Information from: Columbia Missourian, http://www.columbiamissourian.com
An AP Member Exchange for use in weekend editions shared by the Columbia Missourian
- By RICK MONTGOMERY The Kansas City Star
- Updated
KANSAS CITY, Kan. (AP) — A fishbowl holding a few gift cards stood to the left of the judge's bench.
On a railing in front of chairs where a jury normally sat, Johnson County's new Veterans Treatment Court had lined up modest prizes for those who had stuck to the regimen for the past two weeks: Donated T-shirts. Soap products, toothpaste. Plastic water bottles.
Doug Davis eyed the black ball cap.
"MARINES," the stitching said. "The Few. The Proud."
Everyone in the courtroom knew that Doug Davis — a frank but fidgety combat veteran and alcoholic — wanted to leave with that hat.
"If someone else grabs it, could we get a backup cap for Mr. Davis?" Judge Timothy McCarthy asked his treatment court team.
For two months Davis, 31, had been unable to claim the cap, The Kansas City Star (http://bit.ly/27sBH0k ) reported. And McCarthy, having pushed to create the first court of its kind in Kansas, worried that Davis might be its first reject.
Like drug courts, veterans treatment courts provide an alternative to jail for some veterans whose substance abuse, injuries, depression or stress related to military service probably contributed to their scrapes with police.
Unlike Davis, four other veterans who made up the inaugural group of treatment court participants had advanced to the next phase.
But Davis couldn't because he hadn't quit drinking. His urine tests time and again were "dirty." For a moment he considered giving up treatment court and serving a 16-month sentence for marijuana possession.
"The team," to use McCarthy's term, hoped that the steely support and Job-like patience of Davis' fiancee, Traci Hernandez, might bring the ailing veteran around. She's at every court appearance.
From the bench McCarthy could recognize by just looking that the wiry man before him had the worst case of post-traumatic stress disorder of anyone in the program. Davis would shift his feet, stammer and rub tattoos on his arms.
On this March afternoon, however, Doug Davis was turning a corner.
He arrived beaming, despite the couple's two-hour grind of bus transfers to get from their Independence home to the Olathe courthouse.
His jokes and high-fives drew smiles from the prosecutors and volunteer mentors supporting the veterans. That black Marines cap was soon to belong to Davis because the urine analyses showed him to have been sober for two weeks.
"Like a kid at Christmas," said Michele Parsons, a treatment court team member who works at the VA Medical Center in Kansas City.
The judge invited Davis up to the jury rail to collect his "swag." And when he bolted past the fishbowl and other prizes to grab the hat, two dozen people in the courtroom stood to applaud.
Even McCarthy, from the bench.
Last week at home, Davis and Hernandez — we'll switch here to Doug and Traci — reflected on a long, exhausting climb that continues for both.
That Doug today is 10 weeks sober doesn't mean Veterans Treatment Court has fixed him. He will be involved another year or more in an intense protocol that many veterans turn down because they view incarceration as easier.
Doug at least is marching in a new direction, all around him can tell. He and Traci credit that to the compassion of Judge McCarthy, to the veterans groups that reached out to the couple in court, even to the brutal therapy sessions when Doug dissolves in tears recalling a certain day on his first tour of Iraq.
He was a machine gunner in a turret atop a Humvee.
(In what his VA therapists call "prolonged exposure" sessions, Doug will sit with a psychiatrist once a week, close his eyes for 45 minutes and relive a horror with which he needs to come to terms. What he says aloud is recorded, and the treatment requires that he listen to the audio every night. "Very, very intense," said Parsons, but research shows it's effective in helping PTSD patients live with their memories.)
Credit for Doug's progress also goes to Traci, many say, and Doug agrees. "I wouldn't even be here without her," he said. "I'd be in prison."
Traci, nearby, said, "You got that right," while tapping a laptop to arrange student financial aid for Doug. He'll attend Park University this summer to pursue a business degree.
"It's been rough," she said of their relationship, which dates to sixth grade. "Real rough."
Doug assured her: "I'm done with all that. There's no looking back now."
And this time Traci believes.
Veterans treatment courts have existed on the Missouri side — in Jackson and Clay counties and Kansas City Municipal Court — for a few years. Johnson County's court opened this winter.
More than 260 such programs have sprouted since 2008 in all but a dozen states around the nation, beginning in Buffalo, N.Y.
The objective is to separate lesser offenders from the criminal pack and try to treat, not punish.
"DUI. Drugs. Weapons charges. Domestic violence. Those are the offenses that will come up over and over," McCarthy said, based on his discussions with other treatment court judges.
The Johnson County court presently serves 14 veterans, almost all from the post- 9/11 wars. McCarthy expects 25 to be in treatment by year's end.
Participants who attend required court hearings, pass the drug screenings and check in with probation officers and VA therapists can graduate from the program in a year to 18 months. If they also stay out of trouble. The criminal charges that brought the veterans into the court typically will disappear from their records.
Kansas was slow to embrace the idea.
"Hug-a-thug," some law enforcers cautioned McCarthy about how the public might view his efforts.
The nonprofit advocacy group Justice for Vets, which promotes treatment courts, has heard it from the start.
"Why should some criminals be treated differently just because they served in the military?" said Justice for Vets spokesman Chris Deutsch. "Because we know that between 80 and 85 percent of veterans who land in the justice system have been dealing with substance and mental-health issues" often stemming from PTSD.
"Punishment simply does not work when these conditions exist," Deutsch said. "It's far more effective to identify, assess and treat the underlying causes of the behavior."
Since the treatment courts are relatively new, spring up at different times and vary in the kinds of criminals they accept, overall recidivism rates for those who graduate are difficult to gauge. Some judges say 90 percent who complete the program have never been arrested again.
Not all cases end well.
In Salt Lake City, Army veteran and treatment court participant Johnathon Reeves shot to death his fiancee and 2-year-old son before taking his own life. The city's veterans court had had its first hearing just six months earlier. Proponents have kept the program going.
The Reeves tragedy occurred last June.
The same month, Lenexa police responded to complaints at a hotel about a drunken man acting up and passing out. His legs were stretching from the open door of his room.
It was Doug Davis.
Authorities arrived the next night, too. And as they brought Doug back into the room, one found half a joint on a dresser.
Doug was 16 when he started drinking. That's also the age he charted his first DUI.
Through his adult life, "my mom probably saw me sober maybe just 30 days total," he said.
Four years were spent as a Marine. He signed up on his 18th birthday, a high school graduate out of Pomona, Kan. Doug was proud to complete boot camp at the same San Diego, Calif., facility where his grandfather George Shuster had become a Marine.
"I stood on those same footprints out there," Doug said. "Being a Marine was the greatest thing he ever did, and it made him the man he was."
Doug served two tours in Iraq, where from his gunner's turret he saw firefights stretch for three days.
That is all he'll say. He and Traci agreed to be profiled in this story on grounds he not talk about Iraq.
After Doug's honorable discharge in 2007, he returned to his home state and joined a roofing crew. He and three other workers would guzzle beers most every night — Doug could go through a 12-pack. When he got drunk enough the others would ask what he saw in Iraq, and only then would Doug talk.
In 2012 Doug fielded a Facebook friend request from Traci, with two sons from a broken marriage. Doug was Traci's first crush when they attended grade school together in the Basehor-Linwood district.
Within four months of their courtship, the couple acquired a town home.
"He didn't tell me he was a raging alcoholic when we moved in together," Traci said.
Drinking was behind every criminal offense Doug committed, be it trespassing, marijuana possession or destruction of property.
Like many combat veterans, he avoided contact with veterans organizations. "I'd seen terrible stuff over there and figured it was behind me, I was going to forget it and move on," he said.
But he couldn't forget what he saw, despite all the drinking he did to try.
He and Traci were homeless and staying with friends when an argument drove Doug to check into that hotel room in June.
This would lead to his second marijuana possession charge. A sister posted bond, but Doug was arrested again for breaking the glass on the door of an Ottawa liquor store.
His mother, Pamela Joy Reynolds, bonded him out that time.
It was one of her final acts of charity accorded Doug. Reynolds died suddenly last August at age 59.
Doug spiraled further. "I just said 'whatever,'" when he dodged a court appearance and moved to Independence.
Bounty hunters tracked him down there.
Doug was back in jail when word arrived in October that grandfather George, the proud Marine, was dead.
There are moments in Veterans Treatment Court when Judge McCarthy's eyes well up a bit.
Like when participant Steven Leonard read a poem he wrote called "Sorry."
"Understand, Judge, not all poems rhyme," Leonard said before reading.
"Sorry" was an apology to his mother — typos, spelling errors and all:
Dear Mom as I sit here writing to you with a shakey hand.
I sit here in this foxhole on this battlefield knowing that I might not make it home.
So I would like for you to know this mom I am sorry .
Sorry for misbehaving as a kid. Sorry for not hugging her enough. Sorry most of all for not saying he loved her.
McCarthy welled up again when another veteran handed him a dog tag stamped by the Wounded Warrior Project. Though not a veteran himself, the judge has carried the memento in his pocket ever since.
A third time McCarthy felt his emotions stirring came May 4, when Doug Davis stepped to the lectern to give a status report.
"Today," Doug declared, "I'm at 60 solid days of being sober.
"I just want to thank you, Judge, and the veterans court. Not only for my sobriety . but this has helped me make the changes I've always had to make in my life."
Doug relayed that he was meeting now with other combat veterans every Monday at the VA. Through those connections a tree-trimming job came along, providing enough money for him to pay off all of his court fines and restitution costs.
He and Traci also had saved $3,200 to buy a minivan, eliminating those bus transfers they needed to get to treatment court, drug screening and therapy.
It didn't occur to Doug to tell McCarthy about the day he stopped drinking. It was March 4. Doug was back in Pomona visiting Grandma Caroleanna, widow of George Shuster.
He visited the cemetery where his mother and Grandpa George were buried beside each other. Doug saw their headstones for the first time. And he broke down, vowing to make them proud.
Next day he and Traci planted daisy seeds outside their home to mark the occasion of their new way of living.
Last week they gathered at a Pizza Ranch with several new friends, a group of veterans supporters called Team Fidelis. The group's founder, Marine veteran Daniel Brazzell, rose from the table to salute the sobriety of Doug and another veteran in his sixth month of participating in treatment court on the Missouri side.
More than 100 local members strong, Team Fidelis came into being two years ago to raise awareness about U.S. veteran suicides. Brazzell and other members — veterans and non-veterans — attend treatment court sessions to offer whatever help they can to participants such as Doug.
Could you use a bicycle? Doug said absolutely, and Team Fidelis arranged the purchase of two used bikes for Doug and Traci. The couple have since joined dozens of other Team Fidelis members in fundraising runs and biking events.
Doug was so impressed by the organization he tattooed Team Fidelis' logo on his abdomen.
"Oh, man, they've done so much for me," he said. "So much. Just the camaraderie ."
Doug acknowledges that his journey is far from over.
But for now, he knows that Judge McCarthy's treatment court has made this new life possible.
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Information from: The Kansas City Star, http://www.kcstar.com
An AP Member Exchange shared by The Kansas City Star.
- By MELISSA TREOLO Lawrence Journal-World
- Updated
SHAWNEE, Kan. (AP) — A number of years ago, Jill and Ty Swarts of Shawnee went to dinner to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. But they didn't say a whole lot during the meal.
"I don't think we said five words to each other. We just blankly stared at each other the entire dinner," Ty recalled. "We were like, 'Wow, OK, what's next?'"
The couple was reeling from the news they had received earlier that day during a scheduled sonogram for Jill, who was six weeks pregnant: She would be giving birth to not one, not two, but three babies. As it was their first pregnancy, the two were pretty shocked to say the least.
"It was both our parents' first grandchildren," Ty said. "It went from zero to wow, you're really jumping in."
The Lawrence Journal-World (http://bit.ly/1rP5AHS ) reports that before too long, shock turned to excitement for the expectant parents. And 26 weeks later, on April 14, Jill delivered fraternal triplets, all weighing less than 4 pounds. The babies were born eight weeks early, which is typical for triplets, Jill said. But it took three weeks in the neonatal intensive-care unit, or NICU, at Overland Park Regional Medical Center before brothers Luke and Brady and sister Taya were deemed healthy enough to be taken home by their new parents.
Those triplets are now healthy, 10 years old and in fourth grade at Belmont Elementary School in the De Soto school district. Jill still clearly recalls, however, the level of service and support her family received from the NICU staff at Overland Park Regional Medical Center.
"Wonderful," she said. "For some reason, throughout the entire pregnancy I was never scared. And the time that they spent in the NICU wasn't scary, and I think it's because we had such a great support team."
That's why Jill wanted to give back to the facility that had helped her family so much a decade ago. So in February, she approached her three children with an idea.
"I said, 'In thinking about your birthday and turning 10, we wanted to do something memorable and special,'" Jill said. "'How would you feel if we paid it forward and decided to donate pajamas back to the NICU where you were born?'"
Though Luke said there were some small, initial misgivings among the siblings as the pajama drive their mother proposed would be in lieu of birthday presents, they were quickly on board with the idea.
"Because it's better to give than to receive," Taya said.
And so Project PJ was born. Jill said the drive was started initially with an email to close friends and family, telling them about the idea and asking for donations of pajamas for premature and newborn babies.
"And from there it just kind of grew," she said.
Over the course of about eight weeks, up until the triplets' birthday on April 14, donations began pouring in through the mail and also at school. A lot of the time, the donations came in threes in honor of the three siblings, Jill said. Their initial goal, Luke said, was to gather at least 100 pairs of pajamas.
"We thought, if we could collect 100, that would be awesome," Jill said. "And as the numbers started to grow closer to 100 (within only about four weeks), we got even more excited to see how big this could get."
Ultimately, 205 pairs of pajamas were collected through the drive. And after their birthday arrived, the siblings delivered that collection of pajamas in a wagon personally to the NICU staff at Overland Park Regional Medical Center.
"I think it was really nice to do this because I don't think the parents were expecting that people would give preemie PJs to the babies," Luke said. "It just made me feel good to donate all these PJs."
Though the hospital already has a collection of premature- and newborn-sized pajamas, NICU social worker Elaine Riordan said it's the story behind the drive that will be of the most benefit to parents. She said about 10 to 15 pairs of the donated pajamas have already been given out to parents thus far, and the hospital plans to share the story in some way to each parent who receives pajamas through Project PJ.
"There's always this little doubt in their mind that maybe we're not going to make it. So this story of 10-year-old preemies coming back, giving back is very inspirational to parents that are stepping into that role right now. It's very inspirational to see the vision of where my baby is going to be like these babies in 10 years," she said, gesturing to Luke, Taya and Brady sitting together Monday on a couch in the lobby of the NICU. "This is the dream."
And seeing one's baby — previously only clothed in a diaper or blanket as necessitated by the level of care they require in the NICU — in a pair of actual pajamas is a pretty big deal for parents struggling with the fear and worry that can come with babies born prematurely, Riordan said.
"It's a kind of a big day when parents come in and their babies are finally in baby clothes," she said.
That day of seeing their own babies in pajamas for the first time is one Jill and Ty won't ever forget.
"I just think we knew we were that much closer to bringing them home," Jill said.
Among the triplets, the recent pajama drive has inspired a desire to continue paying it forward in the future.
"We think every 10 years we're going to do something big," Luke said.
Every 10 years even up until they reach age "100," added Taya excitedly.
A look of pride took over Jill's face as she listened to such statements from her children.
"It makes my heart happy," she said.
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Information from: Lawrence (Kan.) Journal-World, http://www.ljworld.com
An AP Member Exchange for use in weekend editions shared by the Lawrence Journal-World
DES MOINES, Iowa (AP) — A group of students at a Des Moines high school has brewed and branded a root beer recipe as part of a two-year project.
"Rider Root Beer" was created by chemistry students at Theodore Roosevelt High School, The Des Moines Register (http://dmreg.co/1RbpJwm) reported. Student entrepreneurs and artists helped brand the product.
Roosevelt teacher Kate Galligan said the project was part of the STEM initiative, which helps bring relevant science, technology, engineering and mathematics issues to the classroom.
Galligan said the students worked in groups to create the recipe, which includes a hint of chocolate.
"They wanted to do something with a little different twist to it," Galligan said. "It took a long time to do this inquiry-based lab."
Seniors Kate Chartier, 17, is one of the students who has been working to "perfect" the root beer on and off during science courses since her sophomore year.
"(We learned through) trial and error," Chartier said. "Not everything works, you know? You have to develop it."
Confluence Brewing Company bottled about 800 32-ounce growlers of the beverage. The school is selling them for $10 each.
Confluence and local graphic design company 818 helped the students brand the root beer with artwork.
"In order to create a good product you have to put in a lot of work," said Henry Gunderson, a 17-year-old entrepreneurial student.
Roosevelt principal Kevin Biggs said he believes the project helped students gained real-world skills.
"It's a dream come true," Biggs said. "This is a perfect example of how education can be used in a deep, meaningful process."
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Information from: The Des Moines Register, http://www.desmoinesregister.com
WINONA, Minn. (AP) — A former Winona County jailer is accused of downloading nude photos from the cellphones of people booked into the county jail.
Charges filed against Ryan Brown also say the 31-year-old St. Charles man used those photos as leverage to get additional pictures from the subjects involved.
Winona Daily News (http://bit.ly/1TgZb4r ) says Brown is charged with stalking, misconduct and computer theft. The complaint says in one case, the girlfriend of a man in jail said she received Facebook messages from an individual telling her he had nude photos of her and if she didn't send him more pictures he would post the ones he had on a "revenge porn" website.
Brown is scheduled to make his first court appearance June 15. It was not immediately clear if Brown has an attorney.
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Information from: Winona Daily News, http://www.winonadailynews.com
- By JONATHAN TURNER The Rock Island Argus
ROCK ISLAND, Ill. (AP) — Felix Weil is only alive today because of the generosity of England, which took in European Jewish children in 1938-39.
A native of Frankfurt-am-Main, Mr. Weil told his harrowing story of escape as an 11-year-old at the annual Yom Hashoah Holocaust Remembrance, held at Congregation Beth Israel, Tri-City Jewish Center.
"At 11, I lost the most precious gift that God gives us," he said of his parents and sister, whom he had to leave behind on Aug. 10, 1939, on a train to freedom. Three weeks before the start of World War II (Sept. 1, 1939), Mr. Weil's was the second-to-last train to escape Nazi Germany with Jewish children — among just 10,000 who were part of the Kindertransport program.
"That seems like a lot, but when you think of one and a half million children being murdered (in the Holocaust), it's a very small amount of children," he said. The United Kingdom was the only country in the world that offered to give refuge to Europe's Jewish youngsters, Mr. Weil said.
The U.S. Congress considered legislation that proposed admitting 20,000 German refugee children, but opposition stopped it. Mr. Weil cited a remark by FDR's cousin, Laura Delano Houghteling, the wife of the U.S. commissioner of immigration, who warned "20,000 charming children would all too soon grow into 20,000 ugly adults."
The impetus was the infamous Kristallnacht (or "night of crystal"), on Nov. 9 and 10, 1938, when nearly 100 Jews were murdered and 30,000 more were sent to concentration camps. Seven hundred synagogues were burned down by Nazis, more than 7,000 Jewish-owned business destroyed, and the massive amount of shattered glass from windows of Jewish homes and shops gave the onslaught its name.
Part of the reason for that destruction was the fact Adolf Hitler wanted to see if he would face consequences from other nations, Mr. Weil said.
"Do you know what happened? Nothing," he said. "Absolutely nothing."
Many Jewish families sent their children (ages 2-16) via the Kindertransport to escape an oncoming catastrophe.
"To this day, I can vividly remember ... our parents always told us, 'We're going to sell the home, sell our car, close the bank account, and we'll be with you in a matter of five, six weeks,'" Mr. Weil said. "Of course, children believe their parents."
But he was among the 9,000 of the 10,000 kids in Kindertransport to never see their parents again. Even German Jewish adults who accompanied the children to England (starting Dec. 2, 1938) had to return to Germany, likely killed by the Nazis, Mr. Weil said.
He learned that Oct, 19, 1941, the last contingent of remaining Jews in his town were sent to the Lodz ghetto in Poland for "liquidation," meaning they would die in the camps. Of his long trip west, Mr. Weil said it "was a big adventure," going to a new country, learning a new language, and being free from persecution.
The day he left, his mother was "sitting with tears rolling down her face," he recalled. "This was going to be the last day she would ever see her son."
Most of the transports left by train from Vienna, Berlin, Prague and other major cities, crossed the Dutch and Belgian borders, and went on by ship to England. Mr. Weil praised the Dutch people for taking risks by hiding Jews, taking them into their homes, and welcoming them during Kindertransport.
When he arrived in England, he didn't speak much English; two words being "ice cream," he said. He was taken in by a kind Christian family and stayed in England for the rest of the war. In 1945, an aunt and uncle brought Mr. Weil to the U.S., and he arrived April 12, 1945, the same day FDR died.
A year later, Mr. Weil was drafted by the U.S. Army and sent back to Germany, where he served 18 months with occupation forces, before coming back to America. He graduated from Kent State University and has lived in Dayton, Ohio, since 1950. He and his wife Frances have two children and a grandchild.
The fate of children during the Holocaust was addressed by other speakers Sunday. The Rev. Jay Wolin (of the Unitarian Universalist Congregation) read a remembrance from a survivor of Treblinka. In gas chambers, victims choked and died within 25 minutes.
"It was terrible to hear the screaming, the agony of the women and children," Eliyahu Rosenberg had said, noting over 350 Jews were killed at a time.
Sam Rothbardt — of Pleasant Valley Junior High and winner of the "Children and the Holocaust" essay contest — read his essay on Holocaust survivor Jack Gruener.
Other speakers touched on horrendous life in a ghetto, mistreatment of blacks in the Holocaust, a rescuer of children, resistance of the Nazis, and remembered those in our area who were victims of Nazi persecution, escaped the Holocaust or survived it.
The Rev. Richard Priggie, of Augustana College, read from a Lodz Ghetto survivor, who described dead bodies, filth everywhere, and forced labor where the survivor, Bruno Helmer, saw a Nazi official take a little child, whose mother was there, and swing it against a wall, killing it.
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Source: The Rock Island Argus, http://bit.ly/24CF8z7
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Information from: The Rock Island Argus, http://www.qconline.com/index.shtml
This is an AP-Illinois Exchange story offered by The Rock Island Argus.
- By DAVID EGGERT Associated Press
LANSING, Mich. (AP) — Michigan House Speaker Kevin Cotter must testify in open court in the criminal case of two former lawmakers who were forced from office in a sex scandal, a judge ruled Thursday.
Lansing District Judge Hugh Clarke Jr. denied the Republican leader's motion to quash Todd Courser and Cindy Gamrat's subpoena for him to answer questions next week in the preliminary examination, which will determine if there is enough evidence to proceed to trial. Clarke also changed course and said Cotter will not first be questioned privately in the judge's chambers.
Cotter had claimed legislative immunity under the Michigan Constitution's speech and debate clause. Clarke said the provision applies to civil but not criminal cases, and the most of the questions submitted by the defendants cannot be answered by anyone other than Cotter.
"We disagree strongly with Judge Clarke's ruling," Cotter spokesman Gideon D'Assandro said. "We believe the constitution is clear, and he has seriously misread it. We look forward to asserting our rights on appeal."
Gamrat, who was expelled by the House in September, and Courser, who resigned the same day rather than be kicked out, are accused of felony misconduct in office stemming from a House investigation into a bizarre attempted cover-up of their extramarital affair. Courser faces a felony perjury charge, too.
The Republicans also face charges they that told staff to forge their signatures on legislation.
Courser has admitted to devising an explicit phony email that said he had been caught having sex with a male prostitute behind a Lansing nightclub. He explained that he thought his tale would make the affair less plausible if it was revealed by an anonymous extortionist who — acting at the behest of Gamrat's husband Joe, according to a later state police investigation — sent him and Gamrat text messages demanding that they resign.
Courser and Gamrat have said Cotter orchestrated their removal from office for political reasons. Clarke ruled earlier this week that Cotter's top aide and other House employees can be called to testify in the probable cause hearing.
Gamrat's attorney Mike Nichols said "nobody's sky is going to fall" if Cotter testifies.
"He's an important witness because he's all over this case," he said.
The judge cautioned that the defendants' lawyers will not be allowed to probe into Cotter's speech, debate, voting or "anything he did in the (House) chamber or committee meetings." Questions could relate to "routine administrative matters" and his statements during an interview with the state police or anyone from the state attorney general's office, Clarke said.
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Follow David Eggert on Twitter at http://twitter.com/DavidEggert00 . His work can be found at http://bigstory.ap.org/author/david-eggert
COLUMBUS, Ohio (AP) — A suburban Columbus police department says one of its officers has been killed in a motorcycle crash during an on-duty training exercise.
Hilliard police say the crash happened at about 2 p.m. Thursday at State Route 161 and Interstate 270, northeast of Columbus.
Hilliard police Chief Robert Fisher said the officer killed was 16-year veteran Sean Johnson, who was training to ride the motorcycle as part of the department's traffic control unit.
Fisher didn't release details of how the crash happened.
AUGUSTA, Mo. (AP) — A Missouri fire official says a teenager has survived a 50-foot fall from a bluff near Augusta west of St. Louis.
Assistant chief Paul Hopen of the August Fire Protection District tells the St. Louis Post-Dispatch (http://bit.ly/1NAEEFv ) that the victim sustained injuries not considered life-threatening during the tumble in Klondike Park.
Hopen says the teenager and his friend were in an area of the park they shouldn't have been, out on the rocks near a cliff, when he slipped and tumbled, and a tree broke his fall.
Hopen says the teenager sustained cuts and bruises and was alert and responsive when he was flown to a St. Louis hospital for evaluation.
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Information from: St. Louis Post-Dispatch, http://www.stltoday.com
ROYAL OAK, Mich. (AP) — A white-tailed deer wandered into a zoo in suburban Detroit before it was caught and returned to the wild.
MLive.com reports (http://bit.ly/1sC5Ev9 ) Thursday that the deer was roaming Wednesday through the Detroit Zoo in Royal Oak, a few miles north of Detroit.
Zoo spokeswoman Patricia Janeway says all gates were closed and visitors to the venue were not allowed to enter or leave as staff worked to catch the deer. It eventually was cornered in a wooded area and subdued with a tranquilizer dark.
She says the deer was treated for symptoms of hypothermia and was doing well when released Thursday in a nearby state park.
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Information from: The Grand Rapids Press:MLive.com, http://www.mlive.com
FLINT, Mich. (AP) — Rapper Snoop Dogg and former Toronto Raptors player Morris Peterson are hosting a celebrity basketball game to help Flint amid the city's crisis with lead-tainted water.
"Hoop 4 Water" is scheduled for Saturday at the Dort Federal Credit Union Event Center.
In January, Snoop Dogg met with Flint Mayor Karen Weaver during a water drive in the city. Peterson, who is from Flint, tells The Flint Journal (http://bit.ly/1YETJX7 ) that the rapper is "concerned with what he can do for the city."
Proceeds from the event will go toward the Morris Peterson Jr. Foundation for water relief efforts.
Flint switched in 2014 to using the Flint River but failed to add the proper chemical treatment. Lead from old pipes leached into the water, and people were exposed for months.
- By EMMA KATE FITTES The Star Press
MUNCIE, Ind. (AP) — Local fourth-graders have been experiencing a piece of Indiana's history at the restored 1900s Corinth School for years. But keeping costs low for students, just $2 each, leaves little money to cover utilities.
While the one-room building, built in 1875, didn't use utilities back in the day, modern state code requires heat and electricity, said Robert Kellems, a member of The Friends of Corinth School. The nonprofit is looking for more donations, and holding an open house later this month.
He said they will do everything they can to keep the building open, but money is a concern.
Corinth is the last one-room schoolhouse left in Delaware County, Kellems said. It was restored and has welcomed modern-day classes on field trips since 2001.
On May 11, students arrived in 1900s-style clothing. Girls wore bonnets and long skirts; boys wore suspenders. They did math and history lessons on slates with chalk. Ruth Swetnam, the school marm, explained that she wasn't allowed to be a teacher and be married, and that the male teacher down the street made 20 cents more than her.
"We stay in the 1900s all day," Swetnam said. "The children really enjoy this field trip because they don't have any concept of what school was like when all the grades, 1 through 6, were in the same classroom
Perhaps the most baffling part to students was the outdoor bathroom. The school has an outhouse with no modern plumbing, although the toilets do have seats in order to meet state code.
A few agreed the best part was learning to write with dip pens, although the ink did get messy.
"This is all part of the Indiana history that they are learning in the fourth grade," Swetnam said. "They can relate what they are reading in the books to their actual experiences."
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Source: The (Muncie) Star Press, http://tspne.ws/1OypaNa
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Information from: The Star Press, http://www.thestarpress.com
This is an AP-Indiana Exchange story offered by The (Muncie) Star Press.
- By KARLEE RENKOSKI Columbia Missourian
COLUMBIA, Mo. (AP) — Denny Fox still keeps his wife's voicemail greeting on his home phone even though it brings one of his friends nearly to tears every time he hears it.
Fox's wife, Cindy Fox, hasn't spoken in 10 months. She used to teach high school and college English classes until four years ago when she began to forget the language that was so dear to her.
Sixty-eight-year-old Cindy Fox was diagnosed with primary progressive aphasia, a brain condition in which language capabilities become impaired, which then evolved into Alzheimer's. The doctors said it would get worse, and there were no treatments or medication that could prevent or stall it.
The Columbia Missourian (http://bit.ly/1VRNEZD ) reports that after being a teacher for over 30 years, her biggest loss at the time was the ability to teach and influence students with language.
As time went by, Cindy Fox was only able to write her husband three-word notes. The first two words were always "I'll be." The third would be something like shower, lunch, bed or bathroom.
"That was enough for a while to give me a hint of what she wanted," Denny Fox said. "But her spelling deteriorated, and after that she would lead me to different places in the house."
Now, Denny Fox does almost everything for his wife. He bathes her, helps her in the bathroom, dresses her, and cooks and cleans the house.
According to an estimate by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, more than 5.3 million Americans are living with Alzheimer's in the U.S. Eighty percent of those with the disease receive care in their homes from someone like Denny Fox — an ordinary person, compelled by love and duty to take the role of caregiver.
It's often thankless work, but caregivers say planning ahead, seeking support from others in the same position and finding time away from the person with Alzheimer's are the key to making it work.
Denny Fox's advice to early caregivers is to be willing to adjust their thinking and lifestyle and not be afraid to ask for help and suggestions.
"People always say necessity is the mother of invention," Denny Fox said. "You have certain problems, and there's no book, so you just have to find a way to do it and get through it."
Alzheimer's is the sixth leading cause of death in the U.S., and of the top 10 causes, it is the only one that cannot be prevented, cured or slowed, according to the National Alzheimer's Association.
The Alzheimer's Association is the dominant health organization for Alzheimer's support and research by providing care and support for people affected by Alzheimer's, specifically caregivers.
Joetta Coen is an associate director of the Alzheimer's Association Greater Missouri Chapter in Columbia and also leads the men's support group on the third Thursday of the month.
Sometimes, she said, caregivers don't know what they're getting into when they decide to take care of a family member with Alzheimer's, especially the children of people with the disease. Caregivers often don't realize how devastating the disease will be for them as well as their loved one.
According to Alzheimer's Association statistics, nearly half of care contributors cut back on their own expenses to pay for the care of a family member or friend with Alzheimer's. Caregivers are 28 percent more likely to eat less or go hungry, and one in five caregivers cut back on their own doctor visits due to their caregiver responsibilities.
And 74 percent of caregivers reported that they are "somewhat" to "very" concerned about maintaining their health since becoming a caregiver, according to the Alzheimer's Association.
That's why the organization puts a big emphasis on support groups.
"People can come to support groups and express their stresses, ask questions and know that they're not alone," Coen said. "There's this brotherhood or sisterhood."
After Cindy Fox was diagnosed, Denny Fox, 68, decided to retire from selling insurance to take care of her. He said he has always been a patient person, but coaching basketball for 37 years before selling insurance also improved his patience and persistence with his wife.
"It's kind of tough when there's not going to be any improvement, but you just keep doing the things you have to do," Denny Fox said.
His wife is a gentle person as she shuffles around the house, but she has become a little more stubborn when he tries to get her onto the toilet or into the shower. He said the scariest thing is not knowing if she's in pain because she can't communicate with him.
Cindy Fox has choked from food obstructions in her airway twice since being diagnosed. Both times Denny Fox performed the Heimlich maneuver, chest compression and mouth-to-mouth to get her breathing again while waiting for emergency personnel.
He has made adjustments. Like finding a way to secure the TV remote after his wife lost three of them. Or modifying the freezer door so it swings back by itself if she leaves it open. He has fixed padlocks to the doors in the house so she can't get into food cabinets or into the garage where she has sometimes gone to get into the car.
Occasionally, he wishes he could have a day off. But paying for an additional caregiver costs $13 an hour, and that adds up. He can only afford to pay a caregiver when he goes to support group meetings. Those are a priority.
Denny Fox looked into nursing homes, which were about $4,500 a month, plus $1,000 more for memory care patients. He feels like he's paying himself that amount to stay home.
"There might be a time or two a month when I wish that she would be in a nursing home," Denny Fox said. "But I think I give her more personal care and more immediate attention. My intention is to keep her home as long as I possibly can."
Denny Fox admitted he gets lonely sometimes, despite phone calls from family and friends. He's grateful to have his wife's company, whether they can have a conversation or not, but he misses being able to tell her about things he sees or hears throughout the day.
Denny Fox said at this point, there is very little going on in his wife's brain. He suspects she only understands he's someone important in her life.
"I don't think she understands a spousal relationship," he said. "It's still a loving relationship, but it's not like it used to be at all."
Fifty-five-year-old Amelia Cottle and 56-year-old Brian Cottle have been very vocal about their experience with the disease. They don't want to be known as the "Alzheimer's people," but they try to share their story if it helps make a difference in the community.
Brian Cottle was diagnosed in 2012 with early onset Alzheimer's disease.
"I had a suspicion, but to hear it from a neurologist is a tough one," Amelia Cottle said. "Everything changes."
Brian Cottle retired shortly after diagnosis, and Amelia Cottle quit working in January 2014 when her husband could no longer be left alone. His memory, speech, sight and other cognitive abilities have deteriorated rapidly over the past four years.
She made changes to their house to accommodate her husband. She put bright tape on door handles and the toilet so he can see them better. She adapted recipes to allow him to eat with more dignity. Smaller pieces. Foods that can be eaten with a spork.
Amelia Cottle also began attending support groups immediately after the diagnosis. Now she moderates the women's support group and helps coordinate a breakfast for Alzheimer's patients and their caregiving spouses once a month.
She's noticed that sometimes caregivers become isolated in their belief that their experience is singular. The breakfast and support groups remind caregivers that they're not alone.
"There's a recognition that every day these people are dealing with the same thing with the same phase, earlier or later," Amelia Cottle said. "You love them because you understand their battle."
Amelia Cottle said she was honored when asked to moderate the women's support group at the Alzheimer's Association in Columbia. Although she is younger than many people in the group, she draws on her research ability, background in clinical work and her own experiences in helping other caregivers.
Amelia Cottle's advice to new Alzheimer's caregivers is to "get all of your ducks in a row." This includes putting together a medical plan and community of trustworthy doctors, as well as getting all legal documents lined up. She also said it's important to get it done early because the more the person with Alzheimer's can be involved in the transitioning, the better.
"The hardest part of caregiving is watching someone you love descending and descending and descending," Amelia Cottle said. "With illnesses, a person is either going to get better, or they're going to get worse. With this one, there's never any hope."
The second hardest part of caregiving for her husband is the mental struggle. As the main caregiver for her husband, she often wonders if she is making the right decisions, evaluates everything he does and at times questions her sanity. Amelia Cottle said it's exhausting.
To combat her mental struggle, Amelia Cottle researches as much as she can about the disease. It helps her make decisions and adapt to the "increased need and the decreased cognitive ability."
The up side is what she's learned about herself. She's been amazed to find out how much patience she possesses.
But she misses interactions with people, like going to lunch with friends and sharing interesting observations with her husband.
"Sometimes I feel alone," Amelia Cottle said. "I know I'm not, but it's that mental state where your whole day is spent constantly watching or listening to make sure you don't need to help with something."
She takes a break from the stress of caregiving by reading, which allows her to keep an eye on her husband at the same time. Caregiver support groups are also an important way to get away for a few hours.
Amelia Cottle enjoys the calm of being in the same room as her husband and often touches his hand or plays with his ponytail. She said part of her time is spent storing up memories because she knows she'll miss him after the disease runs its course.
"This is life, and this is what we do," Amelia Cottle said. "You can only control the things you can."
For 82-year-old Pat Etienne, who was diagnosed with mild cognitive impairment, or early stage Alzheimer's, in 2011, that sense of control comes from staying active in the community and her spiritual center. Especially when she'd rather stay home.
Although she lives with her oldest daughter, Etienne has remained very independent because the progression of the disease has been fairly slow.
Etienne sought a diagnosis after noticing that some of the questions on an Alzheimer's test administered to her brother were a challenge for her. She knew she was in trouble when her daughters began saying, "Mom, we told you that," because she had found herself saying that to her brother.
A neurologist confirmed that she had early stage Alzheimer's. Etienne tried three different recommended medications, but since they wouldn't stall the disease and had some side effects, she decided not to take them.
Etienne has long-term care insurance as well as three "outgoing and caring daughters." They've discussed their mother's future and recognize she will require more intensive care and supervision in the years to come.
The daughters already help Etienne with big decisions because Alzheimer's has affected her judgment. They also watch for signs of change, whether it's in her driving or cognitive behaviors.
Aisha Kareem, Etienne's daughter and housemate, said she expects to assume increased responsibility for her mom's care as the disease progresses.
Kareem does most of the cooking, keeps her mother focused on a particular task when she forgets and reminds her to use her calendar. As a nurse, Kareem is also attentive to her mother's health and accompanies her to appointments.
Etienne respects the responsibility her daughters feel for her but is also attentive to her own caregiving.
Although she would rather do passive things like sitting at home, she recognizes the importance of "staying in the game" by being active and maintaining contacts and relationships.
Etienne currently serves as a National Early Stage Advisor for the National Alzheimer's Association along with 11 other people. She said she is "used extensively as an advocate ... and a spokesperson for the mid-Missouri Alzheimer's Association chapter."
She is very involved in the spiritual center, Unity of Columbia, and said the people there have supported her since the diagnosis. They value her experience and ask her to volunteer in the office as well as make sure she shows up for meetings and events.
"They've supported in such a way that has never allowed me to feel sorry for myself," Etienne said. "I still have to show up. They won't let me say no."
She has learned to tell people she meets that she may not remember them later but encourages them to say hello and remind her who they are and how they met. She doesn't want people to be standoffish.
She also plays Scrabble and Words with Friends "religiously," which helps her chart her memory loss.
Although there are many things Etienne has forgotten how to do, she said she hasn't forgotten how to ask for help.
"If I want to be a participant in my own life for as long as possible, then I have to recognize that I have to ask people for what I want or need," Etienne said. "The hardest thing is to acknowledge it's a different game with different rules. My curse is that I'm aware enough to know I'm not aware."
Reaching a breaking point
Many Alzheimer's patients are not aware of their disease, or their awareness fades over time, and some still live alone. For this reason, Joel Shenker, an MU Health Care neurologist, said the demand for caregivers is greater than the supply. They're needed to accompany Alzheimer's patients to appointments, verify medications have been taken correctly and watch a patient's movements around the house.
"Only a caregiver can be the glue that holds that together because a patient can't do that anymore," Shenker said.
"But, in a sense, it's unhealthy to be a caregiver," he said.
He cited a guideline from the Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education that limits resident physicians, who are usually young and healthy, to a maximum of 80 hours of work a week because their health can suffer if that amount is exceeded. The average work time for caregivers of Alzheimer's, or other related dementias, is 80 hours a week, and usually they're much older, he said.
Some Alzheimer's caregivers have to make decisions they weren't used to making before and can't be as productive as they wish to be, which can cause depression. Sometimes caregivers, most often spouses, are unhealthy from the beginning.
When the needs of the patient are physically and emotionally more than a caregiver can provide, nursing homes and assisted living facilities should come into play, he said.
Caregivers often tell Shenker they feel it's selfish not to care for a loved one with Alzheimer's. But Shenker said they need to recognize the consequences for themselves and the patient.
The Alzheimer's Association emphasizes the importance of caregiver' health. Taking breaks, keeping up with personal medical needs and finding support from family, friends and other caregivers can help maintain effective caregiving.
"It's never selfish to take care of yourself," Coen said. "As long as you feel good, you're able to provide the care. If you don't feel good physically, emotionally and mentally, you're shortchanging your loved one."
___
Information from: Columbia Missourian, http://www.columbiamissourian.com
An AP Member Exchange for use in weekend editions shared by the Columbia Missourian
- By RICK MONTGOMERY The Kansas City Star
KANSAS CITY, Kan. (AP) — A fishbowl holding a few gift cards stood to the left of the judge's bench.
On a railing in front of chairs where a jury normally sat, Johnson County's new Veterans Treatment Court had lined up modest prizes for those who had stuck to the regimen for the past two weeks: Donated T-shirts. Soap products, toothpaste. Plastic water bottles.
Doug Davis eyed the black ball cap.
"MARINES," the stitching said. "The Few. The Proud."
Everyone in the courtroom knew that Doug Davis — a frank but fidgety combat veteran and alcoholic — wanted to leave with that hat.
"If someone else grabs it, could we get a backup cap for Mr. Davis?" Judge Timothy McCarthy asked his treatment court team.
For two months Davis, 31, had been unable to claim the cap, The Kansas City Star (http://bit.ly/27sBH0k ) reported. And McCarthy, having pushed to create the first court of its kind in Kansas, worried that Davis might be its first reject.
Like drug courts, veterans treatment courts provide an alternative to jail for some veterans whose substance abuse, injuries, depression or stress related to military service probably contributed to their scrapes with police.
Unlike Davis, four other veterans who made up the inaugural group of treatment court participants had advanced to the next phase.
But Davis couldn't because he hadn't quit drinking. His urine tests time and again were "dirty." For a moment he considered giving up treatment court and serving a 16-month sentence for marijuana possession.
"The team," to use McCarthy's term, hoped that the steely support and Job-like patience of Davis' fiancee, Traci Hernandez, might bring the ailing veteran around. She's at every court appearance.
From the bench McCarthy could recognize by just looking that the wiry man before him had the worst case of post-traumatic stress disorder of anyone in the program. Davis would shift his feet, stammer and rub tattoos on his arms.
On this March afternoon, however, Doug Davis was turning a corner.
He arrived beaming, despite the couple's two-hour grind of bus transfers to get from their Independence home to the Olathe courthouse.
His jokes and high-fives drew smiles from the prosecutors and volunteer mentors supporting the veterans. That black Marines cap was soon to belong to Davis because the urine analyses showed him to have been sober for two weeks.
"Like a kid at Christmas," said Michele Parsons, a treatment court team member who works at the VA Medical Center in Kansas City.
The judge invited Davis up to the jury rail to collect his "swag." And when he bolted past the fishbowl and other prizes to grab the hat, two dozen people in the courtroom stood to applaud.
Even McCarthy, from the bench.
Last week at home, Davis and Hernandez — we'll switch here to Doug and Traci — reflected on a long, exhausting climb that continues for both.
That Doug today is 10 weeks sober doesn't mean Veterans Treatment Court has fixed him. He will be involved another year or more in an intense protocol that many veterans turn down because they view incarceration as easier.
Doug at least is marching in a new direction, all around him can tell. He and Traci credit that to the compassion of Judge McCarthy, to the veterans groups that reached out to the couple in court, even to the brutal therapy sessions when Doug dissolves in tears recalling a certain day on his first tour of Iraq.
He was a machine gunner in a turret atop a Humvee.
(In what his VA therapists call "prolonged exposure" sessions, Doug will sit with a psychiatrist once a week, close his eyes for 45 minutes and relive a horror with which he needs to come to terms. What he says aloud is recorded, and the treatment requires that he listen to the audio every night. "Very, very intense," said Parsons, but research shows it's effective in helping PTSD patients live with their memories.)
Credit for Doug's progress also goes to Traci, many say, and Doug agrees. "I wouldn't even be here without her," he said. "I'd be in prison."
Traci, nearby, said, "You got that right," while tapping a laptop to arrange student financial aid for Doug. He'll attend Park University this summer to pursue a business degree.
"It's been rough," she said of their relationship, which dates to sixth grade. "Real rough."
Doug assured her: "I'm done with all that. There's no looking back now."
And this time Traci believes.
Veterans treatment courts have existed on the Missouri side — in Jackson and Clay counties and Kansas City Municipal Court — for a few years. Johnson County's court opened this winter.
More than 260 such programs have sprouted since 2008 in all but a dozen states around the nation, beginning in Buffalo, N.Y.
The objective is to separate lesser offenders from the criminal pack and try to treat, not punish.
"DUI. Drugs. Weapons charges. Domestic violence. Those are the offenses that will come up over and over," McCarthy said, based on his discussions with other treatment court judges.
The Johnson County court presently serves 14 veterans, almost all from the post- 9/11 wars. McCarthy expects 25 to be in treatment by year's end.
Participants who attend required court hearings, pass the drug screenings and check in with probation officers and VA therapists can graduate from the program in a year to 18 months. If they also stay out of trouble. The criminal charges that brought the veterans into the court typically will disappear from their records.
Kansas was slow to embrace the idea.
"Hug-a-thug," some law enforcers cautioned McCarthy about how the public might view his efforts.
The nonprofit advocacy group Justice for Vets, which promotes treatment courts, has heard it from the start.
"Why should some criminals be treated differently just because they served in the military?" said Justice for Vets spokesman Chris Deutsch. "Because we know that between 80 and 85 percent of veterans who land in the justice system have been dealing with substance and mental-health issues" often stemming from PTSD.
"Punishment simply does not work when these conditions exist," Deutsch said. "It's far more effective to identify, assess and treat the underlying causes of the behavior."
Since the treatment courts are relatively new, spring up at different times and vary in the kinds of criminals they accept, overall recidivism rates for those who graduate are difficult to gauge. Some judges say 90 percent who complete the program have never been arrested again.
Not all cases end well.
In Salt Lake City, Army veteran and treatment court participant Johnathon Reeves shot to death his fiancee and 2-year-old son before taking his own life. The city's veterans court had had its first hearing just six months earlier. Proponents have kept the program going.
The Reeves tragedy occurred last June.
The same month, Lenexa police responded to complaints at a hotel about a drunken man acting up and passing out. His legs were stretching from the open door of his room.
It was Doug Davis.
Authorities arrived the next night, too. And as they brought Doug back into the room, one found half a joint on a dresser.
Doug was 16 when he started drinking. That's also the age he charted his first DUI.
Through his adult life, "my mom probably saw me sober maybe just 30 days total," he said.
Four years were spent as a Marine. He signed up on his 18th birthday, a high school graduate out of Pomona, Kan. Doug was proud to complete boot camp at the same San Diego, Calif., facility where his grandfather George Shuster had become a Marine.
"I stood on those same footprints out there," Doug said. "Being a Marine was the greatest thing he ever did, and it made him the man he was."
Doug served two tours in Iraq, where from his gunner's turret he saw firefights stretch for three days.
That is all he'll say. He and Traci agreed to be profiled in this story on grounds he not talk about Iraq.
After Doug's honorable discharge in 2007, he returned to his home state and joined a roofing crew. He and three other workers would guzzle beers most every night — Doug could go through a 12-pack. When he got drunk enough the others would ask what he saw in Iraq, and only then would Doug talk.
In 2012 Doug fielded a Facebook friend request from Traci, with two sons from a broken marriage. Doug was Traci's first crush when they attended grade school together in the Basehor-Linwood district.
Within four months of their courtship, the couple acquired a town home.
"He didn't tell me he was a raging alcoholic when we moved in together," Traci said.
Drinking was behind every criminal offense Doug committed, be it trespassing, marijuana possession or destruction of property.
Like many combat veterans, he avoided contact with veterans organizations. "I'd seen terrible stuff over there and figured it was behind me, I was going to forget it and move on," he said.
But he couldn't forget what he saw, despite all the drinking he did to try.
He and Traci were homeless and staying with friends when an argument drove Doug to check into that hotel room in June.
This would lead to his second marijuana possession charge. A sister posted bond, but Doug was arrested again for breaking the glass on the door of an Ottawa liquor store.
His mother, Pamela Joy Reynolds, bonded him out that time.
It was one of her final acts of charity accorded Doug. Reynolds died suddenly last August at age 59.
Doug spiraled further. "I just said 'whatever,'" when he dodged a court appearance and moved to Independence.
Bounty hunters tracked him down there.
Doug was back in jail when word arrived in October that grandfather George, the proud Marine, was dead.
There are moments in Veterans Treatment Court when Judge McCarthy's eyes well up a bit.
Like when participant Steven Leonard read a poem he wrote called "Sorry."
"Understand, Judge, not all poems rhyme," Leonard said before reading.
"Sorry" was an apology to his mother — typos, spelling errors and all:
Dear Mom as I sit here writing to you with a shakey hand.
I sit here in this foxhole on this battlefield knowing that I might not make it home.
So I would like for you to know this mom I am sorry .
Sorry for misbehaving as a kid. Sorry for not hugging her enough. Sorry most of all for not saying he loved her.
McCarthy welled up again when another veteran handed him a dog tag stamped by the Wounded Warrior Project. Though not a veteran himself, the judge has carried the memento in his pocket ever since.
A third time McCarthy felt his emotions stirring came May 4, when Doug Davis stepped to the lectern to give a status report.
"Today," Doug declared, "I'm at 60 solid days of being sober.
"I just want to thank you, Judge, and the veterans court. Not only for my sobriety . but this has helped me make the changes I've always had to make in my life."
Doug relayed that he was meeting now with other combat veterans every Monday at the VA. Through those connections a tree-trimming job came along, providing enough money for him to pay off all of his court fines and restitution costs.
He and Traci also had saved $3,200 to buy a minivan, eliminating those bus transfers they needed to get to treatment court, drug screening and therapy.
It didn't occur to Doug to tell McCarthy about the day he stopped drinking. It was March 4. Doug was back in Pomona visiting Grandma Caroleanna, widow of George Shuster.
He visited the cemetery where his mother and Grandpa George were buried beside each other. Doug saw their headstones for the first time. And he broke down, vowing to make them proud.
Next day he and Traci planted daisy seeds outside their home to mark the occasion of their new way of living.
Last week they gathered at a Pizza Ranch with several new friends, a group of veterans supporters called Team Fidelis. The group's founder, Marine veteran Daniel Brazzell, rose from the table to salute the sobriety of Doug and another veteran in his sixth month of participating in treatment court on the Missouri side.
More than 100 local members strong, Team Fidelis came into being two years ago to raise awareness about U.S. veteran suicides. Brazzell and other members — veterans and non-veterans — attend treatment court sessions to offer whatever help they can to participants such as Doug.
Could you use a bicycle? Doug said absolutely, and Team Fidelis arranged the purchase of two used bikes for Doug and Traci. The couple have since joined dozens of other Team Fidelis members in fundraising runs and biking events.
Doug was so impressed by the organization he tattooed Team Fidelis' logo on his abdomen.
"Oh, man, they've done so much for me," he said. "So much. Just the camaraderie ."
Doug acknowledges that his journey is far from over.
But for now, he knows that Judge McCarthy's treatment court has made this new life possible.
___
Information from: The Kansas City Star, http://www.kcstar.com
An AP Member Exchange shared by The Kansas City Star.
- By MELISSA TREOLO Lawrence Journal-World
SHAWNEE, Kan. (AP) — A number of years ago, Jill and Ty Swarts of Shawnee went to dinner to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. But they didn't say a whole lot during the meal.
"I don't think we said five words to each other. We just blankly stared at each other the entire dinner," Ty recalled. "We were like, 'Wow, OK, what's next?'"
The couple was reeling from the news they had received earlier that day during a scheduled sonogram for Jill, who was six weeks pregnant: She would be giving birth to not one, not two, but three babies. As it was their first pregnancy, the two were pretty shocked to say the least.
"It was both our parents' first grandchildren," Ty said. "It went from zero to wow, you're really jumping in."
The Lawrence Journal-World (http://bit.ly/1rP5AHS ) reports that before too long, shock turned to excitement for the expectant parents. And 26 weeks later, on April 14, Jill delivered fraternal triplets, all weighing less than 4 pounds. The babies were born eight weeks early, which is typical for triplets, Jill said. But it took three weeks in the neonatal intensive-care unit, or NICU, at Overland Park Regional Medical Center before brothers Luke and Brady and sister Taya were deemed healthy enough to be taken home by their new parents.
Those triplets are now healthy, 10 years old and in fourth grade at Belmont Elementary School in the De Soto school district. Jill still clearly recalls, however, the level of service and support her family received from the NICU staff at Overland Park Regional Medical Center.
"Wonderful," she said. "For some reason, throughout the entire pregnancy I was never scared. And the time that they spent in the NICU wasn't scary, and I think it's because we had such a great support team."
That's why Jill wanted to give back to the facility that had helped her family so much a decade ago. So in February, she approached her three children with an idea.
"I said, 'In thinking about your birthday and turning 10, we wanted to do something memorable and special,'" Jill said. "'How would you feel if we paid it forward and decided to donate pajamas back to the NICU where you were born?'"
Though Luke said there were some small, initial misgivings among the siblings as the pajama drive their mother proposed would be in lieu of birthday presents, they were quickly on board with the idea.
"Because it's better to give than to receive," Taya said.
And so Project PJ was born. Jill said the drive was started initially with an email to close friends and family, telling them about the idea and asking for donations of pajamas for premature and newborn babies.
"And from there it just kind of grew," she said.
Over the course of about eight weeks, up until the triplets' birthday on April 14, donations began pouring in through the mail and also at school. A lot of the time, the donations came in threes in honor of the three siblings, Jill said. Their initial goal, Luke said, was to gather at least 100 pairs of pajamas.
"We thought, if we could collect 100, that would be awesome," Jill said. "And as the numbers started to grow closer to 100 (within only about four weeks), we got even more excited to see how big this could get."
Ultimately, 205 pairs of pajamas were collected through the drive. And after their birthday arrived, the siblings delivered that collection of pajamas in a wagon personally to the NICU staff at Overland Park Regional Medical Center.
"I think it was really nice to do this because I don't think the parents were expecting that people would give preemie PJs to the babies," Luke said. "It just made me feel good to donate all these PJs."
Though the hospital already has a collection of premature- and newborn-sized pajamas, NICU social worker Elaine Riordan said it's the story behind the drive that will be of the most benefit to parents. She said about 10 to 15 pairs of the donated pajamas have already been given out to parents thus far, and the hospital plans to share the story in some way to each parent who receives pajamas through Project PJ.
"There's always this little doubt in their mind that maybe we're not going to make it. So this story of 10-year-old preemies coming back, giving back is very inspirational to parents that are stepping into that role right now. It's very inspirational to see the vision of where my baby is going to be like these babies in 10 years," she said, gesturing to Luke, Taya and Brady sitting together Monday on a couch in the lobby of the NICU. "This is the dream."
And seeing one's baby — previously only clothed in a diaper or blanket as necessitated by the level of care they require in the NICU — in a pair of actual pajamas is a pretty big deal for parents struggling with the fear and worry that can come with babies born prematurely, Riordan said.
"It's a kind of a big day when parents come in and their babies are finally in baby clothes," she said.
That day of seeing their own babies in pajamas for the first time is one Jill and Ty won't ever forget.
"I just think we knew we were that much closer to bringing them home," Jill said.
Among the triplets, the recent pajama drive has inspired a desire to continue paying it forward in the future.
"We think every 10 years we're going to do something big," Luke said.
Every 10 years even up until they reach age "100," added Taya excitedly.
A look of pride took over Jill's face as she listened to such statements from her children.
"It makes my heart happy," she said.
___
Information from: Lawrence (Kan.) Journal-World, http://www.ljworld.com
An AP Member Exchange for use in weekend editions shared by the Lawrence Journal-World
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