caring for queena
Above: Cathy Tunick-Cabeche begins her facial treatment on Queena Vu. Below: Autographed ball caps from the Florida Gators football team and the Tampa Bay Lightning hang on the back of the door to Queena’s bedroom. To the far right is a personalized autograph from the Gators’ legendary quarterback, Tim Tebow.
story + photos by kim fatica
A long commute provides the familiar drone of road rumble as Cathy Tunick-Cabeche guides her car toward Bloomingdale. It’s a Sunday in mid-July, smack dab in the heat of summer, so no football will be missed today. Tunick-Cabeche’s thick Bronx accent betrays her allegiance to local sports teams. Pro football is a passion. “There are some Sundays I’d like to just sleep,” she says without a hint of regret. “And then I’m, like, ‘Okay, get your butt up and go,’ especially during football season because I always miss the beginning of the game.” Personal sacrifices are part of being a dedicated volunteer and Tunick-Cabeche, known as “Cat” by Islanders and friends, has been making the 40-minute monthly trek to Bloomingdale from her Town and Country home for five years. Her normal daily commute brings her to Davis Islands where she is an esthetician for Islander Massage and Skincare, but the monthly ritual is for a good cause. Tunick-Cabeche’s monthly pilgrimage is dedicated to Queena Phu, the 23-year-old who was savagely raped, beaten and left to die at the Bloomingdale Library in April of 2008.
for the rest of the world to know her. On the JoinQueena.com website, her mother, Vanna, posted:
Phu was 18 then, a brilliant senior at East Bay High with a full scholarship to the University of Florida. She was drawn to Queena’s situation after reading an article in one of the daily papers that described her mother’s broken spirit. The story was overwhelming. “We’re all parents. We all have kids and we all do the best we can for our kids,” she said. “Here this woman did everything right. She raised this wonderful daughter, a daughter who was going to go to college, and you think you do your job (as a parent) and then this awful thing happened. It just touched me.” The barbaric attack caused severe brain damage that left Queena nearly blind, unable to speak, walk, or feed herself. Her mother became her full-time caregiver.
money,” she said. “So, I thought, I can offer what I do!” Her hour-long sessions with Queena involve facial massage therapy and Reiki for healing. Most might dismiss facials as strictly cosmetic, but she is assuring that it’s all but superficial. “Oh, no, I’ve seen improvement,” she insists. “There’s been so much improvement since I’ve started. Queena’s jaw will lock and her mother will ask if I can come out, so I go out after work and take care of her.” As we pull up to Queena’s home, the garage door is open. A stockpile of various supplies dominates most of the space and a makeshift desk is in the center of it. One of the vehicles in the driveway has a light blue “JoinQueena. com” sticker promoting the website that is a portal to community support.
Tunick-Cabeche was moved to do something. “What could I offer? It’s not like I have a lot of
Queena lived behind the curtain of an alias until April of this year, when it was finally time
My daughter no longer wants to live in the darkness. She no longer wants to hide her name and face as the “Bloomingdale Library Attack Survivor.” Queena made the brave decision that she wants you to see God’s strength through her and how far she has come. Now, the family home has become a constant hub of activity with visitors like us, and many others who just drop in throughout the day to say hello and offer support. On this particular day, five people are lining up to visit. For all the tragedy that has befallen the family, the atmosphere is light and Vanna is a gracious hostess. Everyone gets hugs. Local comedian Frank Hall keeps throwing out subtle one-liners that keep everyone chuckling. Vanna is sprightly and certainly not the person one might expect to meet after all she has been through. When it’s our turn to get to talk to her I ask her if the family has always lived in Florida. She freely offers that she is from Vietnam. “One of the boat people,” she says, matter-of-factly. “1980. You remember.” 3
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