Best to you,

Van

Life teachers come in many different packages…Two came in the wonderful form of teachers while I was in high school; the other, was Mom, who possessed a love for the arts as long as I can remember.  When I was growing up, the earliest memories I have are of Mom running amok trying to care for 4 kids and a home, all the while, ,music always filling the house with a wonderful, happy atmosphere. When I learned to walk, that was our ticket to NYC. More times than I can count, Mom would bring me on a cool train ride to the city, to see beautiful and amazing concerts, museums and Broadway plays. That started my love affair for the arts.

Now, come high school, I was your stereo-typical crazy teenager. Loved to play, loved to laugh. With becoming a teenager, more responsibility and more stress are a daily part of more growing up. You take on that stress and responsibility with some amount of insecurity and self-doubt. Now come the bright stars…I was blessed enough to have two incredible teachers during this difficult period of growth; Frances McGarry and Patricia Summers. Both, if you knew them, you may think, great things come in small packages…however, actually, to me, they are of even greater stature than the beautiful Mt. Rainier, which I can see from my backyard right now…Both had an incredible passion for teaching and personal growth. One, instilling in me the knowledge that with hard work, and with much humor, come great rewards, you can do anything; the other, also instilling in me the knowledge I can do, or be anything I put my mind to, while showing us the value, and beauty of the arts, and the ! power they possess.

After high school, I always tried my best to remember what these two angels taught me. I worked while putting myself through college. My first job out of high school was working in the ER at the hospital my Mom was an RN at. She thought I was crazy, choosing to work in the ER. I thought, that has to be the most difficult place you can work in at the hospital, so, I can be successful there, then I can work anywhere. So true. My first shift…a Friday evening, the fourth of July. Boy, did I EVER learn! In the coming months, I became an EMT and later, a paramedic. I saw many terrifying things over the years, but none more frightening than the moment I thought I died. June 9, 1998. Preparing for my first call of the day. I was driving the ambulance, as I liked to do…as I was a field supervisor, I was permitted to take a vehicle home with me, so yes, I had an ambulance in front of my home…I was still parked out front, while checking my mirrors, I was just turning my head to check my drivers’ side mirror, when I heard this deafening crash, the smell of burning rubber and oil…the last moment I remember was my head hitting the window, and I thought, “I just bought the farm”…first thing I saw, was a huge tree(which was across the street in my neighbors’ front yard)and smoke…I also felt my brothers’ hands(he had passed in ’78)on my shoulders, telling me, “it’s ok, don’t worry, I’ve got you”…the dispatcher said later on when I returned to work, no one, either in dispatch or on the road could believe I radioed dispatch afterwards…I don’t remember it at all…they heard my voice and thought, “Oh, this is REALLY bad”…I had a very serious head injury, spinal fractures, and, all that tempered glass from the driver’s side window? In my eyes and face. Ick. Recovery was scary; and painful. The bad days, I’d try and put my headphones on, play my favorite music and attempt to disappear in my music. Some days, I ! had to force myself to do that. But I did. The neuro doc said he wanted me, and I needed to, stay out for more than 12 weeks. Being as stubborn as I am, I worked even harder, and returned to full duty in 8 weeks. Co-workers, and the doc, were shocked. My headphones and music gave me the strength and will to push harder than I ever dreamed possible, to do what I never thought possible…to bring myself back!