Moving On... Their injuries grievous, their recoveries arduous, these wounded warriors have overcome daunting obstacles to lead ordinary, even extraordinary lives.
Jessica Lynch Of the thousands of wounded service men and women returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, few became as widely recognized as Jessica Lynch, the pixie-ish Army private who was injured and captured during the US invasion of Iraq in 2003. Intense media coverage of her ordeal and rescue followed her on her journey home and to recovery. Suffering debilitating injuries to her back, left leg, right arm, feet and skull, Lynch was airlifted to Ramstein Air Base and Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. Family members met her there, and were, in turn, met by staff of the Fisher House. “We had never heard of the Fisher House, ever,” says Dee Lynch, Jessica’s mother. “We didn’t have time to bring coats with us; when we got there [Fisher House Manager] Kathy Gregory found coats for us.” Once she was stabilized, Jessica was transferred stateside, to Walter Reed Army Medical Hospital in Washington, DC, to begin her recuperation. Her family followed, moving into the Fisher House there. Even now, six years later, Dee Lynch gushes over the attentiveness shown by Fisher House Manager Vivian Wilson, and all the staff they encountered. “They just felt like family,” she says. “The housekeeper, Mabel—my [younger daughter Brandi] loved her. And Rene, in maintenance—just all in the family.” And, just like family might, the Fisher House guarded the Lynch family’s privacy during a difficult time. “We felt it was a safe
Jessica Lynch returned to Walter Reed a year after her discharge for the dedication of Fisher House III in 2004. She is pictured with Fisher House Foundation trustee Mary Jo Myer and Fisher House Foundation Chairman Ken Fisher.
haven from the media,” says Dee. “We could go in there and they couldn’t get to us.” Jessica, an inpatient at Walter Reed for more than three months, was also grateful to the Fisher House. “It was a huge help—just a relief for my family to have a place of comfort,” she says, adding, “That’s where my parents cooked food for me—especially breakfast. It was nice to be able to have home-cooked food sometimes.” Medically discharged from the Army shortly after her release from Walter Reed in the summer of 2003, Lynch returned to West Virginia to make a life for herself. She has traveled, talking about her ordeal, and enrolled in West Virginia University. Majoring in elementary education, she hopes to graduate next year. “I absolutely love children,” she says. Along the way, she gave birth to a daughter, Dakota Ann, now a two-yearold and named after Jessica’s best friend, Lori Pietstewa, a private in her company who was killed in the attack on their convoy.
Lynch, now 26, still deals with the lingering effects of her injuries, including internal damage and nerve damage to her left foot. “I take it day by day; it’s still taking time,” she says. “But my main focus right now is my daughter, and finishing up school. I can’t allow what happened in Iraq to affect how I’m raising my daughter….You learn to cope with things that happen—that it’s not the end of the world. You just keep going.” The Lynch family has stayed in touch with Ken and Tammy Fisher, and the couple of times a year when she returns to Walter Reed, Jessica makes a point of stopping in at the Fisher House. “I appreciate everything they do; not only for the Lynch family, but for all the soldiers.” Mother Dee Lynch concurs. “Ken and Tammy Fisher have to be the most wonderful people there are. They have the biggest heart,” she says, “and not just with Jessi. We see them this way with everyone.”
The Patriot • SUMMER/FALL 2009
25
©2009 Mychal Watts, WIRE IMAGES/GETTY IMAGES
JR Martinez “Only in America,” marvels Operation Iraqi Freedom Army veteran JR Martinez. He’s referring to his remarkable journey from being trapped in a burning Humvee in Karbala to his current status of soap opera star and even, yes, heartthrob. Two months into his deployment, on April 5th, 2003, Martinez, an infantry corporal, was driving a Humvee when it hit a landmine and was engulfed in flames. By the time his buddies pulled him out, he was severely burned over 40 percent of his body and had internal injuries from smoke inhalation. Waking up weeks later at Brooke Army Medical Center, Martinez was devastated when he looked in a mirror for the first time and saw his disfigurement. Just 19 years old, he didn’t think he could face the world. His mother, Maria Zavala, pulled him through. Through 34 months and 32 surgeries, his mother stayed by his side, whiling away the hours watching her favorite Spanish-language telenovelas. Confined to his hospital room, Martinez was stuck watching them, too. “There wasn’t a [darned] thing I could do about it,” he laughs. “I was making a joke with her, saying, ‘you know, I’m going to be a soap opera star one day.’ Right. ‘I’ll be an accident victim who rides off into the sunset with the beautiful girl.’”
Zavala was a guest at the Brooke Army Medical Center Fisher House, and later in his recovery, so was Martinez. “I can remember my mother telling me on a couple of occasions, while I was still an inpatient, how there were a couple of families there with similar situations,” he says, “and how they talked every evening, and it helped my mother have the strength she need for me. “It was a great therapeutic thing, realizing that they’re not alone, and it was a great opportunity for me, as a patient,” he continues. “When I was in the hospital, I felt like I was the only one with these injuries. Now, at the Fisher House, I was living amongst people who were the same or worse, and I realized, hey, it’s not that bad. We discussed stories, recovery tips, and we helped each other recover without really realizing it.” While still in treatment, Martinez began to see his injuries in a new light—as a way to attract attention to the plight of wounded warriors and to inspire others. “I initially went to a few fundraising luncheons, and gradually I started to
notice that I had the ability to deliver a message, to express myself,” he says. “Before I knew it they asked me to do media, and started inviting me to speak places.” Soon, Martinez was traveling the country as a motivational speaker. That’s what he was doing last year, when he got a phone call about a casting call for the ABC soap opera All My Children. The show was developing a story line about a wounded serviceman returning from Iraq, and producers wanted to cast a real veteran. Despite having no experience as an actor, Martinez landed the part. Originally signed for a 13-week run, Martinez’s character, Brot Monroe, is still going strong, 10 months later. And no matter what, Martinez means to keep moving forward. He plans to write a book; he’s promoting a rap song; and he intends to continue his motivational speaking if his acting career wanes. For now, though, Martinez, 26, says, “I’m in a great place. I was able to adapt, take what was given to me and make this great journey. It’s a great opportunity to educate America five days a week, educate the people who look at me on the show and have crushes on me. I would rather say, ‘please pass that compliment on to someone else who is disfigured or disabled. They have the same qualities you see in me.’”
JR Keeps on Ticking When I first joined the Army, I found the military confusing. I was always late — and did plenty of pushups to pay for it —so I bought a watch. I was wearing my watch on April 5th, 2003, when I was injured. It kept the skin on my wrist from being burned. For five years I had this good patch of skin on my left wrist in the shape of that watch, so last year, on my birthday, I went out and got my watch tattoo.
The zig-zag lines signify that the watch is broken. The time on the dial, 2:30 pm, is the time I was hurt. It’s says SAT in a small window, a nod to that Saturday, and the year is in Roman numerals on the band. Ironically, I was born at 2:30 pm... so I like to tell people that I died 19 years later and was reborn into the person I am today. When people ask me what time it is, I look at my tatto and say, “last call.” The Patriot • SUMMER/FALL 2009
27
Daniel Gade Fiercely competitive before an improvised explosive device upended his world in Iraq, Capt. Daniel Gade wasted little time getting back to setting and achieving goals. First were the small, but grueling, daily goals of healing and rehabilitation. Nearly killed on January 10th, 2005, when a roadside bomb exploded near his Humvee outside of Ramadi, Gade doesn’t remember any of the next three weeks as he was medevaced to a surgical unit, then to Landstuhl Regional Army Medical Center, and on to Walter Reed in Washington, DC. During that time, doctors determined that to save his life, they would have to amputate his right leg at the hip.
Maj. (then Capt.) Daniel Gade and his wife Wendy pose with then Virginia Sen. John Warner, and then Joint Chiefs Chairman, Gen. Richard B. Myers, and his wife Mary Jo.
When he awoke, he had lost 80 lbs., and was, he says, “weak as a kitten.” “I was in terrible, terrible shape,” he said in an interview with the Athens, GA, BannerHerald, recently. “I had to work through basic strengthening exercises, getting to where I was strong enough to hold a pencil again.” But slowly and steadily, through 40 surgeries and five months as an inpatient
28
The Patriot • SUMMER/FALL 2009
at Walter Reed, Gade pushed himself through every physical therapy session, so that by May, he was cleared to use crutches. Soon thereafter, he joined his wife, Wendy, and toddler daughter AnnaGrace at the Fisher House. “I remember having the peace of mind knowing we didn’t have to worry about housing; we could worry about things much more important,” Gade says. ”If you’re staying in a hotel room, using a hot plate, struggling just to do the day-to-day things, you can’t focus on the important things, like getting well.” The Fisher House was a great environment for little AnnaGrace. “Our daughter did really well there,” says Gade. ”We had enough room to do our own thing, to raise our daughter the way we wanted, but there was also fellowship with others around you, if you wanted it.” In fact, AnnaGrace celebrated her third birthday at the house, along with a boy who also turned three around the same time. Once untethered from physical therapy at Walter Reed, the family went home to Georgia and never looked back. Still on active duty with the military, Gade enrolled in the masters in public administration program at the University of Georgia, earning his degree in 18 months and the rank of major in the Army. After that, it was a one-year stint at the White House, serving as the associate director for domestic policy responsible for disability issues. Now back in Georgia, Gade is working on his PhD, preparing for a faculty position at the US Military Academy at West Point, his alma mater. Meanwhile, he has returned to triathlons, a sport he enjoyed before his injury. With only a year of training, he finished 15th at the ParaTriathlon National Championship at the Nautica New York City Triathlon in July. And in June, he celebrated the first birthday of his twin sons, William and Tyler. While it’s true that Daniel Gade hasn’t looked back in terms of letting his disability hold him back, he hasn’t forgotten the kindness he was shown at the Fisher House. “I think the Fishers are patriots, heroes, who have done something totally selfless,” he says. “I think that’s pretty great—they’re an inspiration to others who are maybe less generous.”
Justin Shellhammer Losing a leg in Afghanistan has barely slowed Justin Shellhammer down—by just 45 seconds, in fact. “I used to run two miles in 13 minutes flat,” he says. “Now I do a 13:45.” An Army staff sergeant, Shellhammer was on patrol on April 5th, 2005, when he spotted a mortar round just ahead of his men. When he put out his arm to warn them off, he was jostled forward and stepped on a land mine. His men quickly applied a tourniquet to his injured leg, and helped him back to his vehicle, where he himself called in the incident. A few days later, doctors at Walter Reed amputated his left leg below the knee. “I was depressed for probably a day,” recalls Shellhammer, “because when I was a little kid, my grandfather lost his leg in a car accident, and I grew up knowing you could still be a productive member of society.” His wife, Tracy, and their five-and-a-halfmonth-old daughter, Lexi, flew in to be near him, at first staying at the Mologne House hotel on the Walter Reed campus.
Now a medically retired Army staff sergeant, Justin Shellhammer, with his wife Tracy and two children.
Soon, a room at the Fisher House became available, and, less than three weeks after his injury, Shellhammer wanted out of the hospital. “My wife and I went to look at the Fisher House; the room was on the second floor and there was no elevator,” he says. “They said if I could get up to the second floor; if I thought I could handle it, we could have the room. I was still all stitched and bandaged up, but I hopped out of my wheelchair and crawled up to the second floor, and said, ‘We’ll take it.’ “That left a big impression on me,” Shellhammer concedes. “I had to go do something they didn’t think I could do, and I surprised them and myself.” It was the first of many such tests. Says wife Tracy, “At the Fisher House, he compared himself to every other one-leg amputee. Whether they had been injured six months ago and he’d been injured three weeks ago, he wanted to be where they were” in their recovery. The Fisher House was positive in other ways, as well. “I saw my daughter do the monumental things, like when she started crawling, interacting with other kids, playing with blocks,” Shellhammer says. “We stayed and left as one family.” After just five months and 20 days of rehabilitation, the Shellhammers left the Walter Reed campus—a record for an amputee. Since then, Shellhammer, now 30, has continued to set records. A year-and-ahalf ago, he became the first amputee to be accepted into a police academy in his home state of South Dakota. The governor came to his graduation.
Justin and Tracy were guest speakers, and when the collection plate was passed, the donations were split between the church and Fisher House Foundation. “Any chance we get to somehow give back to them, we do,” says Tracy. “I can’t imagine going through that time in our life, that crisis, without the staff and the people we lived with at the time.”
Tammy Duckworth
She begins her story in the cockpit in northern Iraq. “The last thing I remember was trying desperately to land the helicopter,” she says. “I did not know I was hurt. I mean, how many times do you look down at your legs? I thought I was the only person in the aircraft who was not hurt. The aircraft was shaking, it filled with smoke, it lost all its avionics…. All I knew was that I was trying to fly it. I was coming to, passing out, coming to. I thought I was in control of the aircraft, and the last thing I remember was landing; knowing we were on the ground.”
Ladda “Tammy” Duckworth is bound and determined to fly helicopters again. No matter that she lost both her legs and nearly her arm while on a Black Hawk mission in Iraq in 2004. This plucky major in the Illinois Army National Guard has already attained her FAA Statement of Demonstrated Ability for small airplanes. And along the way she’s racked up a remarkable string of other achievements, both personal and professional. Thirteen months after the helicopter she was co-piloting was hit by a rocketpropelled grenade, Duckworth and her husband Bryan Bowlsbey left Walter Reed for their home in Hoffman Estates, IL, where she promptly staged a run for the US House of Representatives.
Now a police officer in Belle Fourche, SD, and a father again to son AJ, Shellhammer says, “Everyone has some things they’ve got to overcome. A lot of people don’t wear it on their sleeve, but I do. I wear shorts a lot, so people can see it, can see that it doesn’t take two arms or two legs—it takes a heart, dedication, mindset. I’m proud of what I did for my country—I tell people [my injury] is a paper cut.”
Although her campaign was narrowly unsuccessful, it helped launch a public service career with her appointment in 2006 as director of the Illinois Department of Veterans Affairs. Earlier this year, the Obama Administration tapped her as an assistant secretary for the US Department of Veterans Affairs.
The Shellhammers remain committed to Fisher House Foundation. In 2008, the family attended the Easter morning sunrise service at Mount Rushmore.
While Duckworth didn’t dwell too long in self pity, she admits to a feeling of crushing devastation when she first woke up at Walter Reed. But not, as it turns out, for the loss of her legs.
Still a member of the Illinois Army National Guard, Tammy Duckworth relaxes in the living room of Fisher House III, Walter Reed Army Medical Center.
So when she awoke at Walter Reed, and heard the doctors and nurses talking about an “accident,” she concluded that she must somehow have bungled the landing. “That was the depth of my despair,” she says. “I can’t explain what it was like to think that I had hurt my own men; that I had failed as an officer, a soldier, a pilot. I didn’t want to live, I was so ashamed.” In fact, she and pilot Chief Warrant Officer Dan Milberg did land the chopper safely. To prove it, her husband produced a photo. “Here was this picture showing the aircraft from above; and it was pretty as can be except for this big hole where my seat was.” With scores of surgeries and agonizing rehabilitation ahead of her, Duckworth cont'd on page 30...
The Patriot • SUMMER/FALL 2009
29
...cont'd from page 29
insists that mentally, emotionally, at least, “I’ve been fine ever since.” By mid-February, three months after being wounded, Duckworth was able to join her husband at the Fisher House. “We were thanking God for this place,” she says. “It was a place I could go that didn’t smell like a hospital. I was still hurt, needing hospital care, but it was an oasis from everything happening around you. “While I was still in the hospital,” she continues, “my husband would run back there at three in the morning, throw some laundry in the washer, and someone would have left some food out for him. He’d rush back to the hospital at 0600, come back to the Fisher House 48 or 72 hours later, and someone would have moved his laundry for him. Later, as we got better, we did the laundry and left the food out.”
down
range There are currently 43 Fisher Houses in operation throughout the US and overseas in Germany. In addition to these 43 houses, the following are active projects: VA Medical Center Washington, DC Bruce W. Carter VA Medical Center Miami, FL Eglin Hospital Eglin Air Force Base, FL Charlie Norwood VA Medical Center Augusta, GA Edward Hines, Jr. VA Hospital Chicago, IL Walter Reed National Military Medical Center (three houses) Bethesda, MD Boston VA Health Care System West Roxbury, MA VA Medical Center (Fisher House II) Minneapolis, MN
30
The Patriot • SUMMER/FALL 2009
Early on, Duckworth began to advocate for her fellow wounded. “In 2004, we were the first group of patients coming home from Iraq after being hurt. And a lot of stuff at Walter Reed was not working,” she says. “The doctors and staff were great, but you could see the administration in place had not given any thought to caring for the wounded. Because I was an officer, it came naturally to me, and to the sergeants, to look out for the lower ranks.” She recalls egregious cases of soldiers being denied benefits, and she began calling her senator, Dick Durbin, saying, “we’ve gotta fix this stuff.” He was eventually responsible for her entrance into politics. “By the end of the year,” she says, “the senator called me and said, if you feel this strongly about the treatment of veterans, if you feel the voices of those in uniform are not being represented, why don’t you run for office.”
Fisher House Foundation is building on its commitment to help military families St. Louis VA Health Care System Jefferson Barracks, MO Camp Lejeune Camp Lejeune, NC Womack Army Medical Center (replacement house) Fort Bragg, NC USAF Medical Center (Fisher House II) Wright-Patterson AFB, OH The following are medical centers with an immediate need recognized by the Departments of Defense and Veterans Affairs: VA Medical Center Birmingham, AL Elmendorf Air Force Base * Anchorage, AK VA Long Beach Health Care System Long Beach, CA VA Connecticut Health Care System West Haven, CT
Now at the VA department in Washington, Duckworth finds her work “incredibly fulfilling,” she says. “I’m thrilled to be here. It’s not an easy job; it’s a tough job. But I get to come to work every day and hopefully make a difference every day.” Despite her busy job and her disabilities, Duckworth remains as active as ever. She’s returned to scuba diving; completed the Chicago Marathon using a hand-cranked bike; and she still fulfills her commitment to the National Guard, one weekend a month, two weeks a year. And one day, she aims to once again be at the controls of a helicopter.
The Veterans Affairs crisis hotline is available 24-7, at (800) 273-TALK (8255).
VA Medical Center Gainesville, FL VA Medical Center Lexington, KY USAF Medical Center, Nellis AFB Las Vegas, NV VA New York Harbor Health Care System Brooklyn, NY Louis Stokes Cleveland VA Medical Center Cleveland, OH VA Pittsburgh Health Care System Pittsburgh, PA VA Tennessee Valley Health Care System* Murfreesboro, TN South Texas VA Health Care System San Antonio, TX VA Salt Lake City Health Care System* Salt Lake City, UT Madigan Army Medical Center (Fisher House II) * Fort Lewis, WA Clement C. Zablocki VA Medical Center Milwaukee, WI * Scheduled to begin construction in 2010.