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Finding Shane
The change seemed to anger ancient spirits. My Grandpa's ghost had appeared and silently disappeared before me on those old trails, trails now forbidden to horses. I longed to set foot back in time -- to somehow return to a place of innocence and sweetness, a place in which the weight of the world and the pain of life had not yet clutched onto me so deeply. I lay comfortable and warm in our bed as my husband slept soundly and peacefully beside me, but the roaring of that restless wind outside seemed to crash against our windows like waves thrashing around a ship at sea. My thoughts drifted to recent disappointments. A long search almost had me giving up on finding the right horse. Finally I discovered Shane - a magnificent flea bitten grey old style Quarter horse. Shane was steady and strong beneath me but still when we were out on the trails together my body remained stiff and rigid on his steady back. Vivid memories of hitting the ground hard, my body nearly being trampled, and the piercing pain of two broken ribs filled me with fear. Friends and trainers reminded me to relax in the saddle, but when I tried to follow their suggestions it seemed to make me tense up more. Afterward, I would find myself frustrated and shaken. As time went by I limited myself to walking rides. Sometimes I did not ride at all. I found some satisfaction in those walking rides and also in the ground work and grooming I did with Shane, but secretly I longed to gallop and ride with courage the way I had done before. I would graciously encourage my husband and our friends to go ahead and gallop without me. Within the silence of my heart I hid the pain I felt at staying behind. There were times I would stop and weep into Shane's mane, longing to race the wind with the others. My tired eyes were almost ready to welcome sleep when suddenly another fierce gust of wind cracked and tossed leaves and debris outside against the walls of our home. I tossed and turned for a few minutes, then decided to get up and fix a hot cup of tea. Gazing out the kitchen window into the ethereal snow-covered fields, I decided to go ride Shane. In the middle of the night with no one knowing, I slipped on my barn clothes and boots. As I trod the well-worn path to the barn, fresh flakes of snow began falling from the silent night sky. Reason -- along with nagging doubts -- told me this was a crazy idea, to go riding on a freezing cold night when I had doubts about riding under the best of circumstances. I fought through these thoughts and stepped into the dark and still barn. A sleepy-eyed Shane nickered to me softly as I crept through the barn and unlatched his stall door. Shane's loveable soft muzzle searched my pockets for the apple pieces I had brought him. After he was satisfied eating them he rested his face gently against mine. I wrapped my arms around Shane's broad shoulders and hugged him tightly for a few moments. The wind outside seemed to be calming down and in its absence a few warm tears escaped my eyes. There, in the silence of the barn, I allowed myself for the first time to truly find Shane. I felt him inhale and exhale as his great lungs gently moved beneath my arms. I ran my fingers through his mane and touched the tips of his ears. I kissed his muzzle and slipped his halter over his head. My groggy heart began to beat with passion again as I led Shane into the aisle of the barn and briskly unlatched every silver hook of his navy blue blanket. I warmed the bit on the bridle, and Shane eagerly took it in and then followed me loyally out into the magical stillness of the night. I asked Shane to stand still beside the fence as I carefully cleared the snow from the wooden rails and stepped up onto them. From the fence I slid effortlessly onto Shane's bare back. In his gentle way Shane looked back at me with his kind, big brown eyes. He nudged the tip of my boot with his muzzle and then turned his head forward and stood still waiting for me. I sat a moment, taking in the rare peace and quiet of the night. The distant echo of a faraway train was all we heard. Before us we saw the foreign lights of suburban houses that dotted the horizon, moving closer to our land. We walked around the pastures, and then headed out toward the ancient woods. We even brazenly trod those old familiar, now forbidden, trails in the spirit of my Grandpa and the horses who blazed them. I smiled as stars began to appear in the cloudy snowy night sky. My body began to move in rhythm with Shane's every solid step. I felt young and free. Shane's massive gray body seemed to glow and sparkle like the fresh fallen snow beneath us. As we came to an old, empty farm field, I made a clucking sound to Shane, asking him to speed up our pace. His ears perked straight up and his nostrils flared, breathing out hot smoke, or so it appeared in the cold night air. Happily, Shane stepped into a trot and soon a canter. I felt safe -- so without thinking I clucked once more. Before fear could catch us we were flying! Riding bareback, I put complete trust in Shane as we soared into full gallop together. I laughed at the snow that filled the air around us, tossed up by Shane's fast-moving hooves. For the first time in years I felt absolute freedom. And, on this night, I found my trust in Shane. A Humble Hero By Nicole Drumheller Gargus  Retired Army Captain Dawn F Halfaker of Ramona, CA never expected to be called a hero. In fact, she used to be uncomfortable with the title. Still, it's something that she's had to get used to because - regardless of how she sees herself - this is the way many others see her.Halfaker graduated from the United States Military Academy at West Point, NY in 2001. Then she went on to join the Army's Military Police Corps where she served a year in Korea and then in the 293D Military Police company at Fort Stewart, GA. She was later deployed with her company, where she was assigned to train the Iraqi police in Ini Baqubah during the transition period after the fall of Saddam Hussein's regime. In June of 2004, a rocket-propelled grenade (RPG) was shot into Halfaker's armored Humvee, piercing through her right side. "After I was hit I felt like my mind and senses were thrown into a state of chaos and confusion. Then the pain hit and took over my mind and body. I also became very anxious because I felt like I could never catch my breath. It was like I was drowning or something," Halfaker said. Before she initially lost consciousness, she recalls yelling the order to her uninjured driver "get out of the kill zone!" Although it is expected of every military officer to maintain their leadership skills through stressful circumstances, many people consider her heroic in her ability to give orders while her arm was severely mangled. Halfaker sustained serious injuries to her right arm and lungs. Military doctors amputated her arm after infection set in. She was then sent to Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C., where doctors were forced to put her in a drug-induced coma to fight off the swelling in her lungs and infection from her wounds. After her injury Halfaker lived at the Fisher House, which is near the respected Army hospital Walter Reed in Washington DC. It is where soldiers who are recovering from their wounds get physical therapy on a regular basis. Although her dreams of playing basketball again were crushed, she remained hopeful about her future. Captain Halfaker had a rewarding experience working with her Physical Therapists. In fact, she describes the physical therapists she worked with at Walter Reed as "extremely organized and dedicated." She also added, "They do not just treat the injury, they treat the person. They succeed at raising the morale of their patients by making the weekly schedule creative, fun, and filled with as much laughter as possible." Though Halfaker's physical therapists helped her learn to cope with the loss of her arm, choosing to use a prosthetic -and finding one that was comfortable, effective, and that looked appropriate- was a challenge for her, just as it is for many other amputees.  "Many people want to see me wearing a prosthetic arm because it makes me look like my wound is healed to a certain point, and it hides my injury," she says. "A prosthetic arm puts others at ease because they think of the patient as being complete, recovered, and functional." Halfaker ultimately chose a passive prosthetic arm that has no function, but it is the most comfortable to wear, and looks like a real hand; in fact, it looks like her real hand, down to the skin tone and the painted-on freckles. "It is the most comfortable and looks the nicest," she says. On how Halfaker actually feels about her body after the injury she said: "I find that I am more focused on what I do have left, and that I am lucky to be alive rather than what I have lost - so I stay upbeat. However, I do get frustrated at times when I come across a physical task I cannot do and sometimes when I look in the mirror and see what I have lost."During her stay at Fisher House, Halfaker's life was filled with activity. Besides meeting President George W. Bush, Hillary Clinton, Lieutenant General William J. Lennox, Jr. (the superintendent of West Point), Adam Sandler, and rock star Ozzy Osborne, she was up early three days a week for her 2 to 3 mile run each morning, physical therapy, orthopedic consultations, amputee clinics, career counsel meetings, and various other events which changed week to week. In addition to all of this, Halfaker worked two days a week for Congressman Duncan Hunter in Washington D.C., the Armed Forces Services Comity chairman. In her work for Congressman Hunter, she had a variety of responsibilities from sitting in on meetings with key military personnel to talking with the general public about legislative issues. Halfaker has also appeared on numerous television shows, such as: Hardball, CBS and MSNBC evening news, and the Montel Williams show. She even graced the cover of the USA TODAY newspaper. Halfaker has sacrificed a great deal for her country including her ability to play basketball, a sport which she excelled in and enjoyed. Although she has discovered new sports and activities, nothing will ever fully replace basketball in her life. Halfaker is currently attending Georgetown University, and she is working for the Defense Advance Research Projects Agency (DARPA). Her main career goal is to be able to impact people's lives in a positive way. When Halfaker took a moment to reflect on how far she has come since the day of her injury she said, "I loved the life I had before, but it's just different now - not better or worse." |
