Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Vacuum used to save puppy from well

Video Courtesy of KSL.com

By Darieth Chisolm, NBC Newschannel

A family's favorite Christmas present, a Shih Tzu puppy, fell down an abandoned well in Plum Borough, Pennsylvania over the weekend.

Thanks to efforts made by firefighters, the puppy made it out and survived.

"I woke up. My mom was in shambles, screaming and hollering. She said the puppy fell down in the well. We called 911," said pet owner Benny Palombo.

Firefighters tried for three hours to get little Romeo out of a pipe.

"Eventually, we hooked up an industrial-strength vacuum and sized it down to about 1 inch. We caught on to one of the dog's legs and got it out. It was a miracle," said Assistant Fire Chief Jim Scuffle.

When the dog came out of the well, it wasn't breathing.

Firefighters did mouth to snout resuscitation for about half of the journey to the veterinarian.

The dog eventually started to breath on its own.

"About halfway there, the dog started to gnaw on my finger a little bit and then it came around," said Scuffle.

The vet made sure Romeo was OK, and he was.



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Each act of mercy can help turn around someone's life

Enter Project Rags to Riches Website

Yeah, Christmas 2008 is now past but I couldn't help but post this one, belated as it may be, the purpose is perpetual.  Very inspiring 14 year old.

Madison Lindstrom, Calgary Herald, Published: Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Many of you have heard my personal rags-to-riches story and, for those who haven't, I would love to share it with you from my heart. At the age of four, a series of circumstances led to

my mom and I living on the streets of Calgary. It was a very valuable learning experience because it has brought me to the place I am at today, at 14 years old.

My first-hand experience touched me in a way I will not forget. I have taken the lessons and turned them into something positive, and that is giving back to those who require a hand up, like I did at one point.

About two years ago, I became an activist for youth. My goal is to support the many Canadian charities that assist youth who are homeless, living in poverty or experiencing domestic violence. My personal philanthropy project is Project Rags To Riches Network Inc., which supports a variety of charities involving children, such as Inn from the Cold.

To Donate:

Visit Online: HeraldChristmasFund.com - Call: 403-235-7481 weekdays from 8:30 a. m. to 4:30 p. m. - cliP: Coupon, Page a2

Total To Date: $419,189.98

Also, I want people to know the circumstances they face are not always forever. For example, I have achieved many goals since the age of four--international actor, model and dancer.

The lesson of giving and receiving is an important one in life to learn. Giving is so much fun, and I am ex-cited with every opportunity I have to help someone in need.

It is one of the greatest feelings in the world to see the joy on someone's face when you have made a difference in their life, whether it is large or small.

Trust me, you will never be the same again, and you just want to keep on doing it, unconditionally.

The practical side is that you have made a positive difference and may have given them the hope to keep on going instead of giving up, because it shows you truly care. I know it did for me. Recently I expanded my philanthropy work when I became a Canadian Founding Arc Angel with Humanity Unites Brilliance (HUB). I will be going to Liberia with the group in April to see what can be done to improve the lives of women and children there. My mantra is "go big or go home."

I will continue to live by this for the rest of my life. Had our family not received the blessings from people who loved and cared about us unconditionally, who knows where I would be right now?

Christmas is one of my favourite times of the year. It is not about the gifts, it's about the love, compassion and care shown for each other. I know there were many Christmases when I didn't know if I would have one. But God is always faithful, sending angels to make every Christmastime very special. I loved the gifts I received; however, my most cherished memories are of being invited to someone's home to share in their celebrations.

This is my thank you to all who helped us years ago, especially John Robson, who started Inn from the Cold.

He shared his vision with us for low-income housing in Calgary. All of you who helped us then continually give me inspiration as I do not forget where I came from.

My invitation to all Calgarians is this, please open your hearts to those who require a hand up. It is not the quantity that you give, it is the quality. Remember, my past circumstances can happen to anyone, at anytime, so none of us are exempt from experiencing this. The bright side is, look how the angels who cared for me touched my life; it does make a difference for life.

Be the angel to someone else not just at Christmas, but throughout the year.

More information on Madison Lindstrom's Philanthropy projects can be found at www.madisonlindstrom.hubhub.org and www.projectragstoriches.net.



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Hard Times, a Helping Hand

By TED GUP, Canton, Ohio 

Tony Cenicola/The New York Times

IN the weeks just before Christmas of 1933 — 75 years ago — a mysterious offer appeared in The Repository, the daily newspaper here. It was addressed to all who were suffering in that other winter of discontent known as the Great Depression. The bleakest of holiday seasons was upon them, and the offer promised modest relief to those willing to write in and speak of their struggles. In return, the donor, a “Mr. B. Virdot,” pledged to provide a check to the neediest to tide them over the holidays.

Not surprisingly, hundreds of letters for Mr. B. Virdot poured into general delivery in Canton — even though there was no person of that name in the city of 105,000. A week later, checks, most for as little as $5, started to arrive at homes around Canton. They were signed by “B. Virdot.”

The gift made The Repository’s front page on Dec. 18, 1933. The headline read: “Man Who Felt Depression’s Sting to Help 75 Unfortunate Families: Anonymous Giver, Known Only as ‘B. Virdot,’ Posts $750 to Spread Christmas Cheer.” The story said the faceless donor was “a Canton man who was toppled from a large fortune to practically nothing” but who had returned to prosperity and now wanted to give a Christmas present to “75 deserving fellow townsmen.” The gifts were to go to men and women who might otherwise “hesitate to knock at charity’s door for aid.”

Whether the paper spoke to Mr. B. Virdot directly or through an intermediary or whether it received something in writing from him is not known.

Down through the decades, the identity of the benefactor remained a mystery. Three prosperous generations later, the whole affair was consigned to a footnote in Canton’s history. But to me, the story had always served as an example of how selfless Americans reach out to one another in hard times. I can’t even remember the first time I heard about Mr. B. Virdot, but I knew the tale well.

Then, this past summer, my mother handed me a battered old black suitcase that had been gathering dust in her attic. I flipped open the twin latches and found a mass of letters, all dated December 1933. There were also 150 canceled checks signed by “B. Virdot,” and a tiny black bank book with $760 in deposits.

My mother, Virginia, had always known the secret: the donor was her father, Samuel J. Stone. The fictitious moniker was a blend of his daughters’ names — Barbara, Virginia and Dorothy. But Mother had never told me, and when she handed me the suitcase she had no idea what was in it — “some old papers,” she said. The suitcase had passed into her possession shortly after the death of my grandmother Minna in 2005.

I took the suitcase with me to our log cabin in the woods of Maine, and there, one night, began to read letter after letter. They had come from all over Canton, from out-of-work upholsterers, painters, bricklayers, day laborers, insurance salesmen and, yes, former executives — some of whom, I later learned, my grandfather had known personally.

One, written Dec. 19, 1933, begins, “I hate to write this letter ... it seems too much like begging. Anyway, here goes. I will be honest, my husband doesn’t know I’m writing this letter... . He is working but not making enough to hardly feed his family. We are going to do everything in our power to hold on to our house.” Three years behind in taxes and out of credit at the grocery store, the writer closed with, “Even if you don’t think we’re worthy of help, I hope you receive a great blessing for your kindness.”

Another letter came from a 38-year-old steel worker, out of a job and stricken with tuberculosis, who wrote of his inability to pay the hospital bills for his son, whose skull had been fractured after he was struck by a car.

One man wrote: “For one like me who for a lifetime has earned a fine living, charity by force of distressed circumstances is an abomination and a headache. However, your offer carries with it a spirit so far removed from those who offer help for their own glorification, you remove so much of the sting and pain of forced charity that I venture to tell you my story.”

The writer, once a prominent businessman, was now 65 and destitute, his life insurance policy cashed in and gone, his furniture “mortgaged,” his clothes threadbare, his hope of paying the electric and gas bills pinned to the intervention of his children.

From left to right, Virgina Stone, the author's mother, Minna Stone, the author's grandmother, Barbara Stone, Dorothy Stone and Sam Stone, the author's grandfather.

Samuel J. Stone.

  

Names and addresses have been removed from the letters above.

A mother of four wrote, “My husband hasn’t had steady work in four years ... . The people who are lucky enough to have no worry where the next meal is coming from don’t realize how it is to be like we are and a lot of others... . I only wish I could do what you are doing.”

Another letter was from the wife of an out-of-work bricklayer. “Mr. Virdot, we are in desperate circumstances,” she wrote. They had taken in her husband’s mother and father and a 10-year-old boy. Now the landlord had given them three days to pay up. “It is awful,” she wrote. “No one knows, only those who go through it. It does seem so much like begging. ”

Children, too, wrote in. The youngest was 12-year-old Mary Uebing. “There are six in our family,” she wrote, “and my father is dead ... my baby sister is sick. Last Christmas our dinner was slim and this Christmas it will be slimmer... . Any way you could help us would be appreciated in this fatherless and worrisome home.”

The wife of an out-of-work insurance salesman added a postscript to her letter, one not intended for her husband’s eyes: She had just pawned her engagement ring for $5.

Also in the suitcase were thank-you letters from people who had received Mr. Virdot’s checks. A father wrote: “It was put to good use paying for two pairs of shoes for my girls and other little necessities. I hope some day I have the pleasure of knowing to whom we are indebted for this very generous gift.”

That was from George W. Monnot, who had once owned a successful Ford dealership but whose reluctance to lay off his salesmen hastened his own financial collapse, his granddaughter told me.

Of course, the checks could not reverse the fortunes of an entire family, much less a community. A few months after one man, Roy Teis, wrote to B. Virdot, his family splintered apart. His eight children, including a 4-year-old daughter, were scattered among nearly as many foster homes, and there they remained for years to come.

So why had my grandfather done this? Because he had known what it was to be down and out. In 1902, when he was 15, he and his family had fled Romania, where they had been persecuted and stripped of the right to work because they were Jews. They settled into an immigrant ghetto in Pittsburgh. His father forced him to roll cigars with his six other siblings in the attic, hiding his shoes so he could not go to school.

My grandfather later worked on a barge and in a coal mine, swabbed out dirty soda bottles until the acid ate at his fingers and was even duped into being a strike breaker, an episode that left him bloodied by nightsticks. He had been robbed at night and swindled in daylight. Midlife, he had been driven to the brink of bankruptcy, almost losing his clothing store and his home.

By the time the Depression hit, he had worked his way out of poverty, owning a small chain of clothing stores and living in comfort. But his good fortune carried with it a weight when so many around him had so little.

His yuletide gift was not to be his only such gesture. In the same black suitcase were receipts hinting at other anonymous acts of kindness. The year before the United States entered World War II, for instance, he sent hundreds of wool overcoats to British soldiers. In the pocket of each was a handwritten note, unsigned, urging them not to give in to despair and expressing America’s support.

Like many in his generation, my grandfather believed in hard work, and disdained handouts. In 1981, at age 93, he died driving himself to the office, crashing while trying to beat a rising drawbridge. But he could never ignore the brutal reality of times when work was simply not to be had and self-reliance reached its limits. He sought no credit for acts of conscience. He saw them as the debt we owe one another and ourselves.

For many Americans, this Christmas will be grim. Here, in Ohio, food banks and shelters are trying to cope with the fallout from plant closings, layoffs, foreclosures and bankruptcies. The family across the street lost their home. From our breakfast table, we look out on their house, dark and vacant. Multibillion-dollar bailouts to banks and Wall Street have yet to bring relief to those humbled by need and overwhelmed by debt. Already, the B. Virdot in me — in each of us — can hear the words of our neighbors. 

Ted Gup, a professor of journalism at Case Western Reserve University, is the author of “Nation of Secrets.”



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After many busts, pals deal up winner

AARON HARRIS/TORONTO STAR

Toronto waiter Kosta Trichas shows off the Wheel-R-Dealer, a hand-held device that he and co-creator John Siambouris are hoping will come up aces in gaming circles worldwide, as a way to remove the fuss and tomfoolery from card dealing.Quest for 'big idea' leads to card-dealing gizmo that's turning heads in gaming circles

 

Sir Isaac Newton was allegedly sitting under an apple tree when he discovered gravity. And the Greek philosopher Archimedes was in the bathtub when the proverbial light bulb flashed over his head.

For Kosta Trichas, 40, and John Siambouris, 54, that eureka! moment happened while they were hunched over table 4 at their diner.

That's when they discovered a way to possibly revolutionize card playing, by devising a fraud-proof, hassle-free, automatic card dealer.

As on other nights after work, the two waiters leaned their elbows on a small two-seater near the entrance to Sunset Grill, a Queen St. E. breakfast institution.

This was in November four years ago. They were tired and sweaty, cigarette smoke curling through their matted hair, when Siambouris got up and started pacing.

"I got it," he said quietly after a moment. "I got it."

Now, it's no theory of relativity, but for the two would-be-entrepreneurs, his idea was tantamount to dreaming up Google.

"I stood up and yelled 'Yeah! yeah!' " Trichas said. "It was late, we were tired and this idea comes."

Today, their Wheel-R-Dealer is on its way to becoming the apple of every card player's eye, the partners say. It's a device only slightly larger than a deck of cards that eliminates any dealing errors or hand-eye trickery, they say. With a quick flick of a thumb, it deals out one card every time – no fuss, no muss or manual dexterity required.

A dealer's hands never touch the cards and once all 52 are securely inside the device, no one can manipulate the order, the partners say.

It's ideal for recreational poker players or bridge aficionados, or anyone else who finds dealing cards to be a chore or intimidating, the partners enthuse.

After only a month on the market, they say 20,000 units have been sold to Native Casinos, an association of aboriginal operated casinos in the U.S.

And Dave Snider, marketing director at Prairie Knights Casino and Resort in North Dakota, said he just received delivery of 1,000 units emblazoned with the company logo. They'll be given to VIP customers as a New Year's Eve gift.

"They're really cool," Snider says, noting the casino learned of the device at a Nevada gaming conference last month and had to have them.

"Guests will appreciate having something to deal cards ... The concept is really good."

While casinos typically use a six-deck shoe at blackjack tables, largely to inhibit card counting, the Wheel-R-Dealer founders hope their one-deck device can also find a place in gaming meccas.

One U.S. casino has expressed interest, and Las Vegas operators are also looking at the device, their business partner Paul Mailing adds.

That kind of acceptance would make Trichas and Siambouris' years of struggle all worth it.

"It's an almost rags to riches story," Trichas says over coffee at Sunset Grill, where other customers have taken their now famous table.

"Right now, it's more like 'rags to riches, question mark!' "

Trichas met Siambouris 30 years ago, when the two were working at his uncle's Yonge St. deli, Benny's, across from the Brass Rail.

Trichas was a busboy and Siambouris a waiter with John Travolta hair and a glint in his eye – "like a movie star," Trichas says.

The two discovered they shared a dream to strike it rich with a chain of restaurants or a big idea. But after Benny's closed in 1986, they lost touch for 20 years as Siambouris moved back to his native Greece.

Trichas went to work at Sunset Grill, an unknown eggs and bacon place when his uncle bought it in 1989, and spent two decades in an apron slogging it out over a hot stove.

He says his eyes lit up seven years ago, when Siambouris came back into his life, taking a waiter job at the Sunset.

"We were back to trying to think how we could become millionaires," Trichas says.

At coffee breaks or after work, sitting at table 4, the duo would bounce ideas off one another.

For three years, nothing stuck. Until that eureka moment in 2004.

Card players all their lives, they both hated having to stand up to deal cards and even more, the possible sleight of hand.

For two years the pair, both married with young kids, spent countless hours in their basements to create a working model.

Once they did, they needed a financial backer and approached Mailing, a Sunset regular.

He has invested more than $70,000 in the Wheel-R-Dealer, which is being made in Shenzhen and marketed worldwide.

"I saw an opportunity," said Mailing. "I'm a gambler. I'll take a chance."

As for Trichas, he flashes a smile at a Sunset waitress who offers to refresh his neglected coffee.

"You can't quit. I believe in that now."



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Sunday, December 28, 2008

Family Finds Inspiration By Serving Less Fortunate

Joseph Choi, Family Serve Hundreds Of Homeless

From TheOmahaChannel.com, Fri., Dec. 26, 2008

OMAHA, Neb. - An Omaha family continued its Christmas tradition of giving up material gifts for civic service.

Eight years ago, Joseph Choi told his daughters, "Let's do something that is truly meaningful. And let's do it on behalf of our family," according to one of his daughters.

Every Christmas since, the family has cooked and served traditional Korean meals for the city's homeless. For at least one night, the dinner plays a part in the Siena Francis House's mission of rehabilitation and ending the cycle of homelessness.

"We try to help the people," Joseph Choi said.

He, his wife and children made enough Korean specialty foods Thursday night to serve a steaming plate to hundreds of cold visitors.

Their friends gave a holiday concert, playing holiday pieces on violin. One friend, clothing store owner Mike Oh, donated dozens of boxes of new winter clothes. They were distributed after dinner.

"It's just great to see that there are such wonderful people out there in the world to remember all of us people down here," said a woman at the shelter who identified herself as Michelle.

Choi's daughter, Regina Holmstrom, said remembering the less fortunate is her real meaning of Christmas.

"When I do this, it's the most inspirational, most heartfelt thing," Holmstrom said.



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Gentry An Inspiration To His Teammates

Gentry was honored on senior day.

Full story at Scout.com by Adam Jardy

There were plenty of worthy candidates to be the last player recognized on senior day, but this year's choice was a no-brainer. Former walk-on Tyson Gentry has been inspiring his teammates during his tenure at Ohio State, and senior day gave the Buckeye faithful a chance to show Gentry their appreciation.

As 105,564 fans rose to their collective feet at Ohio Stadium, one young man remained seated.

Nov. 22 was senior day for the Ohio State Buckeyes, and the team’s seniors were being recognized for their contributions to the program. Each senior, from the unheralded walk-ons to the captains, was announced to the crowd and received applause as he headed to the Tunnel of Pride to meet first with head coach Jim Tressel and then with his family members.

But after eventual Thorpe Award winner Malcolm Jenkins and three-time AP All-American James Laurinaitis ran across the field, the final member of the team’s senior class was introduced.

And as Tyson Gentry wheeled his way from the south end zone toward the tunnel, the former walk-on who suffered a freak injury during the spring of 2006 and is still fighting to regain the ability to walk was treated to a standing ovation from the OSU faithful.

The reception brought a slight tear to the fifth-year senior’s eye.

“I could definitely feel the emotion, but once they announced my name and I was going toward the Tunnel of Pride it was definitely a little emotional to think of all the previous players and everything,” Gentry told BuckeyeSports.com. “It was just a very emotional day overall.”

Gentry’s senior day experience actually began some time before the team’s annual date with arch-rival Michigan. When the day’s activities were being planned several weeks prior, the Buckeye coaching staff had a tough choice on its hands.

Gentry fell awkwardly after being hit by a teammate during spring practice in 2006. He was rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with a broken C-4 vertebra and needed two surgeries – one from the front and one from the back – to fuse his C-3 and C-5 vertebrae together and insert titanium plates for stability.

He was discharged in late July and has since been on the road to recovery. A source of inspiration to his teammates, Gentry attends all team functions and is treated as a full member of the team.

“He’s always in the weight room working out, he’s always in the locker room driving around and in practice he’s out there rolling around,” OSU senior defensive tackle Nader Abdallah said. “I joke around with him all the time, telling him to go out there and make a play. It’s just stuff like that that really keeps me going.”

The entire senior day experience made Gentry grateful for all the support he has received during his five years as a Buckeye. At the team’s annual banquet, he brought home the Bo Rein Most Inspirational Player Award.

“I’m definitely very thankful for people’s thoughts and prayers,” he said. “It really means a lot. The amount of respect and everything else that people has given me has been very meaningful to me. It’s nice that people care so much.”

Gentry’s therapy is progressing, but there remains no prognosis for when – or if – he will ever walk again. Although many were hoping for a miracle to occur and for Gentry to rise out of his wheelchair and walk across the turf at Ohio Stadium on senior day, the man himself was not disappointed in the final outcome.

“I don’t really focus on that,” he said. “Granted, that’s what I’m pretty much going to therapy for, to get out of the chair one day, but at the same time I’m not focusing on that. Just because it’s not there doesn’t mean that I’m always thinking about it.”

With an attitude like that, Gentry has already succeeded in Tressel’s eyes.

“I know his future will be filled with making a difference in people’s lives,” Tressel said. “He has handled his tough situation with great strength, and I have already seen his ability to share that strength with others. He is an exceptional person.”



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Saturday, December 27, 2008

An exceptional child proves inspirational

The Yadkin Ripple reports on one mother whose making a difference:

Tammy Hazelwood holds her son, Joshua as an unidentified family member holds his hand.

Leanne Cloudman, Staff reporter, Yadkin Ripple, lcloudman@yadkinripple.com

Occasionally, one has the opportunity to meet an individual who has no idea how important his or her existence is to the rest of the community.

Eight-year old Joshua Hazelwood is just such a person.

Josh goes through life mostly happy and completely oblivious to the effect his life has had on others, especially his mother, Tammy Hazelwood. Josh is very special, as he was born with Down's Syndrome.

Because Josh has special needs, his mom had to take him out of public school; he is in home school now and attends a special rehab program at Comp Rehab.

Early in December, because of Josh, Tammy Hazelwood decided she would do what she could to help what she believed was a seriously underserved portion of the Yadkin County population. Special needs families are close to Tammy's heart for obvious reasons and she has proven how big that heart is.

"There were so many special needs families that weren't going to have a Christmas," said Hazelwood. "I felt God led me to do something."

Through a person who has asked to remain anonymous, Hazelwood began collecting information on families who needed her help.

Josh and his mom approached any business they were told might be receptive and some they just walked in and asked.

"They have been so good to help," Hazelwood said. "I just don't know how to thank them."

Hazelwood donated her time and gas and would be glad to do it again. "I wish I was a millionaire so that I could help everyone."

Though some have called Tammy Hazelwood an angel, she refutes this.

"Josh is the angel," she said. "He's my guardian angel. Without him, who knows what I'd be."

She has been asked what she gets out of doing all this.

"God sent me Josh and now through him and the people he led me to meet, I've been shown the true meaning of Christmas."

Businesses that assisted

Businesses that helped with finding Christmas for these special need families included:

* American General of Jonesville and Yadkinville
* Dobson Cleaners
* Judy Bingman of Elkin
* Dacia Goldman of Comp Rehab
* Dollar General in Boonville
* Dr. Kevin and Tondra Walker
* H&J Diamonds Inc.
* Food Lion of Yadkin
* Yadkin Drugs.
* Several others chose to remain anonymous.

Editor's note: The families who received gifts and food through this effort have asked to remain anonymous.



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6-year-old meets rescuer

The Biloxi Sun Herald ID's good samaritan

BILOXI, Miss. -- A 6-year-old girl in Gulfport who was badly injured by a pit pull more than a week ago got to meet the man who saved her this week.

After Biloxi television station WLOX aired a story about the attack on little Katie Jarmen, Katie's parents said they wanted to meet the man who rescued Katie by grabbing her and putting her in his truck. The pit bull had mangled the girl's arm as she and her mother were walking home from school.

The rescuer turned out to

be Thomas Wedgeworth of Gulfport.

Katie has had one surgery so far on the arm and will probably need more. But for now, she's well enough to open the presents Wedgeworth's daughters picked for her.



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Saturday, December 20, 2008

Woman gives the ultimate Christmas gift to brother and his wife

Video Courtesy of KSL.com

December 19th, 2008 @ 10:07pm, By Ed Yeates

A Utah woman has given her brother and his wife the ultimate gift. David and Julie Hendrickson have twins for Christmas this year because of something very special David's sister did for them.

Alyson Colton

Alyson Colton gave birth to the twin boys last week, about six and a half weeks early. Fertilized eggs from David and Julie were transferred to Alyson, who carried the infants until they were born.

"Three days later, I think, Alyson was still in the hospital recovering, and I just looked at her and [said], ‘I just want you to know I appreciate this so much,'" Julie said.

"I couldn't begin to comprehend the gratitude that I now feel," David said.

Why did Alyson, the mother of three daughters, become the surrogate? Julie has Cystic Fibrosis. A pregnancy could have been too hard on her system, actually damaging the cells of her lungs even more.

"I just felt like this is something I was supposed to do in my life. Julie couldn't do the pregnancies, so I had to bring them into the world for her, and now they're here," Alyson said.

Benjamin and Jackson

Many couples, where one partner has CF, have children via in vitro fertilization. That group includes Julie's brother, who believed kids bring home a special kind of therapy.

"Physically, yeah, the cards don't look like it's going to work out right, but her brother James said when you get married and you have kids, you have something to live for every day," David said. "Maybe in a subconscious, selfish frame of mind I thought: I want to have something from Julie for the rest of my life."

A husband and wife who cherish the time they have together, long or short, and a sister who's made it possible to fill that life even more. "What a blessing. What a great gift. This will be a Christmas never to forget," David said.

If Benjamin and Jackson continue putting on weight as they are now, they'll most likely be going home just after the first of the year. The roots of their names come from all three families.

E-mail eyeates@ksl.com



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Help This 16-Year-Old Fight Blood Disease

16-Year-Old's Inspiring Mission to Fight Blood Disease

A teenage cancer patient isn't sitting around and feeling sorry for himself.

The 16-year-old is taking action to help others!

Alex Ramsey is launching a major project and you can help him get results.

He's trying to raise the number of blood and platelet donations from the military!

He's also selling specialized wristbands to raise money for prizes to give the children who get transfusions at Naval Medical Center Portsmouth.

"There's so many people that actually have diseases in which they need platelets or blood," Alex told NewsChannel 3.

You can read a letter from Alex's Mother below.

It has information on how you can help donate to his cause:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FW: Alex is asking for a call to arms!

Alex is 16 years old, attends school at Bethel High in Hampton, VA.  He was diagnosed on 6 Oct 2008 with Very Severe Aplastic Anemia (in other words he is his own worse enemy...his body is killing his platelets and white blood cell's).  Alex is treated at the Naval Medical Center Portsmouth Pediatric Hematology/Oncology Department, Pediatric Intensive Care Unit and Pediatrics' Ward.  When not an inpatient, Alex still attends school three days a week as he tries to maintain as much as possible a normal teenage life. The other two school days, he is getting transfusions.  He has been receiving and will continue to receive at a minimum 3 bags of platelets a week for at least 3-6 more months (maybe even longer).

Alex is known as the Superstar in the blood bank for getting so many donors.  You can not donate directly to him but please donate in his name.  Aphaeresis is helping to keep a tally and we are hoping to also make this some how into an eagle project for Boy Scouts.  We continually need more donors, please.  This way the hospital doesn't have to buy platelets from an outside source.

Platelets are only good for 5 days.  We need to spread out the donors, this will allow the blood bank to stay stocked not only for Alex but for all of the other patients that need them.  You can call the blood bank at 953-1717 to schedule an appointment or call if you have any questions about platelet donations.  Platelet donations can be made every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday at NMCP between the hours of 0700-1330.  It takes about 1.5 to 2 hours to complete.  You can sit back and relax for a couple of hours to watch a movie.  They also give away lots of goodies including a free lunch in the galley, snacks, coffee mugs, etc.  Oh yeah, they will take anyone 17 years or older, you do not have to have a military ID card, you only need a valid driver's license and an
appointment.

If you would like to donate platelets please call Aphaeresis at 953-1717.  Don't forget to mention in the name of Alex so it can help him and towards a project that we are working on.  Thank you for all of your help.  Helping others is helping us to cope with a terrible situation.

We are also selling the wrist bands for $1.00 each.  The money raised will be donated to the Aplastic Anemia & MDS Foundation; Make A Wish Foundation and prizes for the young children that are getting transfusions at NMCP Hematology/Oncology Clinic.  All three of these organizations are non-profit organizations.  His goal is to raise $1200.

This will allow him to give at least $400 to each charity.

His wish for the Make a Wish Foundation is to be able to dive the Great Barrier Reef off the coast of Australia and Alex wants to go to William & Mary and become a marine biologist.

Please spread the word, the more the merrier!

V/r
HM1 Melissa Leonard "Missy"
Tricare Prime Clinic Chesapeake, VA



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Tuesday, December 16, 2008

'Seven Pounds,' seven keys to Will Smith's success

Will Smith, photographed at the Four Seasons Hotel in Los Angeles, plays an IRS agent on a quest for redemption in Seven Pounds, opening Friday.

Will Smith, photographed at the Four Seasons Hotel in Los Angeles, plays an IRS agent on a quest for redemption in Seven Pounds, opening Friday.

NEW YORK — Spend seven seconds sitting across from Will Smith, and you'll never wonder why he's a superstar.

He's charming and attentive, observant and clever — without ever seeming to try. When he talks, he makes eye contact; when he laughs, it takes over his whole body.

"You gonna put that in the article, that you're playing footsie?" cracks Smith after feet collide under a table at the Mandarin Oriental hotel.

Though he seems happy-go-lucky, the former Fresh Prince of Bel-Air didn't end up where he is by accident. Like Ben Thomas, the painfully orderly and painstakingly wary IRS agent he plays in Seven Pounds, opening Friday, Smith, 40, is consistently in charge, on point and thinking ahead.

"That's one of the elements that attracted me to this idea — how much control you can have over your life, but how much you don't have once you relinquish it," he says. "I make choices in my life after working on this film. I found myself walking down the stairs and it's raining, and I found myself grabbing extra-hard on the railing. Just think, one slip — and that's it. You have to be conscious. You don't have control after you've set these dominoes in motion. Your control point is before you make this crucial mistake."

Seven Pounds may have made him think consciously about navigating slippery steps with care, but he has nurtured his career with nary a misstep, amassing $2.45 billion in box office in North America alone. Here's how he does it:

1. Think globally

Any film Smith makes, as a star or through his Overbrook production company, "has to be extraordinary, it has to be entertainment, it has to be art." And be "delivered to all people of the world."

Not every film fits neatly into that mold, including Seven Pounds, a non-linear story about his character making amends that has a shocking ending. It's "a bit of a stretch for us. The extraordinary entertainment art is easy, but because you can't actually talk about the movie, the delivery to all people of the world is slightly more difficult," Smith says.

He thinks about pitching everywhere from Peoria to Paris from the start. "If we don't know how to sell it, we're not going to begin — no matter how extraordinary I think the entertainment art is going to be. All I need is one visual, and I can sell that anywhere on Earth."

2. Talent at the top

Smith handpicks his directors. For Seven Pounds, he's re-teaming with Gabriele Muccino, who directed him to an Oscar nomination for 2006's The Pursuit of Happyness. The holiday hit starred Smith as a homeless man who breaks into the elite world of finance.

"He takes me to places that I'd never choose myself," Smith says. "It will be the biggest departures from who I am when I work with Gabriele. He sees me similarly as Michael Mann (Ali) does. He knows all my tricks. They erase all the Will Smith-ness."

Muccino, for instance, went so far as to alter the way Smith naturally makes eye contact. Smith's Ben Thomas never looks away, almost glares.

"He's trying to look under people's masks," says Smith. "I'm physically trying to look under people's masks. For me, it's a common courtesy to look away for a second when you're talking and you let people have their privacy for a second. This character never breaks eye contact. It's uncomfortable for me."

3. Mix it up, to a point

For every bombastic audience pleaser like Hancock, Smith tries also to release a more thought-provoking film like Seven Pounds.

"I have to challenge myself and push myself," Smith says. "My only job is to make sure I don't leave anything on the table, that I maximize what a young dude from Philly can do in the world of cinema. There's no telling what I can create at this point."

Two scripts he'd love to star in that Overbrook is developing are the stories of Nelson Mandela and Marvin Gaye.

"I'm not certain I'm actor enough yet," Smith admits. "I love both of those, and I need to make sure I'm man enough."

4. Preserve the Smith brand

Smith doesn't get busted for DUIs or punch or scream at paparazzi. "Not any more, not any more," he jokes.

His parents and grandmother instilled in him the belief that with privileges comes responsibility. Smith doesn't moan about the attention he gets, kvetch about the lack of privacy or lash out at reporters for asking personal questions.

"By being famous, you're afforded rights that other people who aren't famous aren't afforded," he says. "If I'm going to walk to the front of the line (at the restaurant) because I'm Will Smith, then I have to sign all the autographs. If I don't want to sign any autographs, I don't walk to the front of the line. It's that simple. Stand in the line with everybody else."

His image remains one of the most unblemished in Hollywood. The only question that surfaces is whether, because of his close friendship with outspoken Scientologist Tom Cruise, he, too, is a member of the controversial church. Smith repeatedly has denied it, saying he's a student of all religions.

Hitch co-star Eva Mendes says that off-screen, Smith is a bit racier than the clean-cut guy most people see. "He's funnier in person because his jokes get a little more daring. To this day, he doesn't call me Eva. He calls me Reva Melendez. He has this character he does named Redondo, an interviewer who never gets anyone's names right."

5. Cross color lines

With the exception of 2001's Ali (his other Oscar nomination), most of Smith's roles could have been played by him or Brad Pitt or Robert Downey Jr. The IRS agent he plays in Seven Pounds could have very easily been Caucasian, as could the bitter superhero in Hancock.

And that has been by design. Growing up in Philadelphia, Smith attended a mostly white Catholic elementary school and a mostly African-American high school. He lived in an Orthodox Jewish neighborhood, attended a Baptist church and admired the Muslim girls who lived one street over.

Along the way, Smith learned that laughter is collective and unifying. "Those universal elements became really clear in my experiences growing up."

Race is not something Smith dwells on in interviews, and it's not something often addressed in his films. "Being an American, this is the only place on Earth I'm even possible. My life is not possible anywhere else," he says.

It's a sentiment often echoed by President-elect Barack Obama, with whom Smith identifies.

On Election Day, Smith says, he didn't even have a beer. "I wanted to be totally sober. I wanted to see and feel and remember everything. The whole family was there. It was really fantastic — either way I knew it would be a historical evening. I wanted to be there and be aware," he says.

6. Be master of your domain

Eighteen years ago, Smith charmed audiences as the fast-talking, appealingly glib Fresh Prince. Today, his films gross an average $136 million. And Smith says he finally feels he's starting to own his profession.

"I was reading Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers, and he talks about the concept of 10,000 hours. That you don't really settle into any level of mastery until 10,000 hours, and I feel like I've just completed my 10,000 hours of story structure and filmmaking.

"Paulo Coelho in The Alchemist, which is my favorite book, he talks about the whole of the universe, and it's contained in one grain of sand. For years I've been saying that, and now it's really starting to expose itself to me. My own grain of sand has been story. The next 10 years will be my peak of innovation in filmmaking and just as a human being."

Since 1996's blockbuster Independence Day, Smith has generated a movie a year, sometimes two. When he signs on, he's fully committed.

"He's very firm with his own ideas and considerations about things," Muccino says. "He doesn't change his mind easily. If he says no, it's no. If he says yes, it's yes. He's a man of his word. In Italy we call them men of honor."

7. Leave nothing to chance

That includes his 11-year marriage to Jada Pinkett, with whom he has two kids: son Jaden, 10, and daughter Willow, 8. Smith also has son Trey, 16, from his first marriage.

"We did a business plan," Smith says. "Listen, everyone should do a marriage business plan. Why are you together? What's the point? Because he's cute? That's not going to hold up. It can't just be sex and somebody can cook. That's a really good purpose, but not for 40 years. Jada and I have connected to the purpose of our relationship, to teach and to continually learn about human interaction. Our marriage will have purpose for other married people."

Smith always wants to know the conclusion. Because if you know the end, you know precisely where you're going and how you're getting there.

"Jada and I sat down and asked, 'Where do we see ourselves?' We went to 40 years from now. We see ourselves some place where there are seasons. That's a big thing for Jada. We think there's mountains. We think we live on a golf course. We don't have more children — we have grandchildren.

"We are the greatest philanthropists that America has ever seen. We're going to try and get up there with Bill and Melinda Gates. We talked through all the elements of where we want to be so we can start, in this moment, designing our life toward that."

Yes, Will Smith has a plan for everything. But for people like Mendes, his success is the result of something that doesn't need so much preparation.

"Of course he's talented, of course he's sexy, of course he's got a body to die for, but who cares?" she says. "He's so full of light. We all want to be next to him and root for him. People want to be around it. He's a light force."



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