Brobston helps Santa spread Christmas cheer

Adam Brobston isn’t a liar. Despite wearing a red suit and visiting with children young and old in Westland Mall, Brobston has never once claimed to be Santa Claus.

It is how he got the gig at Westland Mall. He is not playing a role. He is there as an official representative of Mr. Claus.

“I work for Santa Claus. That’s how it works. Santa Claus can’t be everywhere,” he said.

Much like an elf — only bigger, jollier, and individually contracted — Brobston is happy to explain the hierarchy to anyone who asks.

Most of his inquisitors are old enough to express skepticism, and they want answers.

“Some of the kids will tell me they saw a Santa Claus somewhere else,” Brobston said.

Of course, they did, Brobston says without surprise. Like sleeper agents of Christmas cheer, those Santas are subcontracted by the big guy, often through local stores. They don’t necessarily know each other, but they know each other. An unspoken brotherhood of goodwill.

“Not everyone is cut out to be Santa. And that’s okay,” Brobston said.

Some, like Brobston, have real beards and hair. Some don’t. Santa would never discriminate against anyone who wants to represent the Christmas spirit. Some Santas weigh less than others. Their ages vary greatly.

Brobston fits the classic definition of the Christmas card Santa — in stature and facial hair. The long gray hair and belly-length beard are real.

“I haven’t seen my chin since 1992,” Brobston said.

Eleven months of the year, Brobston is not Santa. He is a former drummer and a registered nurse. He volunteers at Bark ‘N Play and hosts a true crime podcast. No matter what he is doing, Brobston loves talking to people. Children are the majority of his customers, but not all of them.

“No one is too old to talk to Santa,” he said.

By now, Brobston has heard thousands of wishes, all of which he relays to Santa. Those wishes are a tiny portion of the billions of wishes Santa receives each year, and Brobston never makes any promises. Santa has to cooperate with all governments.&nbsp;

“Some kids will ask for their brother or sister in the military to come home for the holidays,” he said.

Toy-wise, video games and action figures have replaced wooden toys, and the parent-repulsing slime popular in the 1980s is on the rise again. And there’s always something squishy kids want.

“Every kid wants Squishmallows now,” Brobston said.

Sometimes, the kids want someone to talk to. Or they don’t want to say anything at all.

“Some of the younger kids, you can tell they’ve been looking forward to meeting Santa, and they’re all excited. Then they get in front of you, and they see the boots and the suit and the beard, and they freeze up,” Brobston said.

At that point, getting the child to share their Christmas wishes becomes a delicate negotiation.&nbsp;

No matter how far away they stand, Brobston talks to them. If they draw closer, he invites them to sit next to him on the oversized bench. Or they can stand next to him.

Ultimately, Brobston wants to get them in range for a photograph. He can see the hope building in the parent’s eyes as they draw near. Westland Mall has maintained a mall Santa for decades, and taking photos with him is a family tradition for many.

“It’s kind of a living portrait. Everyone changes through the years, except Santa,” Brobston said.

The mall offers professional photographs, but families can take as many photos as they like. Santa would never deny a family taking their own photo — and neither would Brobston.

“A lot of people can’t afford it, and that’s okay,” he said.

Brobston wants to get the kid in the door. If he keeps talking, they might start talking. If they don’t know what they want, Brobston will help them.

“I say, ‘Well, what’s your favorite color?’” Brobston said.

After about five questions, he can usually help them narrow it down. It’s his job to keep up with the latest toys.

“I’ve had several kids ask for a telescope, which is kind of a new one. I thought that was kind of cool. Art supplies are a big one. I’ve had several kids ask for art supplies. It’s something I can talk to them about because I do art myself,” he said.

Santa Brobston has only one real wish — to hear the wishes of as many children as possible. Because every one goes straight north.

“As long as people have hope, I think Santa Claus will exist. Because that’s really what Santa Claus is about. We need hope,” he said.

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2023/12/1703532151288.jpeg" alt="Adam Brobston, a veteran mall Santa, reacts while posing for a photo at Westland Mall in West Burlington. In his job, Brobston’s goal is to spread Christmas cheer and pass children’s wish lists on to the North Pole. Photo/Keith Turrill" />
 <figcaption>Adam Brobston, a veteran mall Santa, reacts while posing for a photo at Westland Mall in West Burlington. In his job, Brobston’s goal is to spread Christmas cheer and pass children’s wish lists on to the North Pole. Photo/Keith Turrill</figcaption>
 </figure>Brobston helps Santa spread Christmas cheerBy William SmithAdam Brobston isn’t a liar. Despite wearing a red suit and visiting with children young and old in Westland Mall, Brobston has never once claimed to be Santa Claus.But he knows him.It is how he got the gig at Westland Mall. He is not playing a role. He is there as an official representative of Mr. Claus.“I work for Santa Claus. That’s how it works. Santa Claus can’t be everywhere,” he said.Much like an elf — only bigger, jollier, and individually contracted — Brobston is happy to explain the hierarchy to anyone who asks.Most of his inquisitors are old enough to express skepticism, and they want answers.“Some of the kids will tell me they saw a Santa Claus somewhere else,” Brobston said.Of course, they did, Brobston says without surprise. Like sleeper agents of Christmas cheer, those Santas are subcontracted by the big guy, often through local stores. They don’t necessarily know each other, but they know each other. An unspoken brotherhood of goodwill.“Not everyone is cut out to be Santa. And that’s okay,” Brobston said.Some, like Brobston, have real beards and hair. Some don’t. Santa would never discriminate against anyone who wants to represent the Christmas spirit. Some Santas weigh less than others. Their ages vary greatly.Brobston fits the classic definition of the Christmas card Santa — in stature and facial hair. The long gray hair and belly-length beard are real.“I haven’t seen my chin since 1992,” Brobston said.Eleven months of the year, Brobston is not Santa. He is a former drummer and a registered nurse. He volunteers at Bark ‘N Play and hosts a true crime podcast. No matter what he is doing, Brobston loves talking to people. Children are the majority of his customers, but not all of them.“No one is too old to talk to Santa,” he said.<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2023/12/1703532312151.jpeg" alt="Photo/Keith Turrill" />
 <figcaption>Photo/Keith Turrill</figcaption>
 </figure>By now, Brobston has heard thousands of wishes, all of which he relays to Santa. Those wishes are a tiny portion of the billions of wishes Santa receives each year, and Brobston never makes any promises. Santa has to cooperate with all governments.&nbsp;“Some kids will ask for their brother or sister in the military to come home for the holidays,” he said.Toy-wise, video games and action figures have replaced wooden toys, and the parent-repulsing slime popular in the 1980s is on the rise again. And there’s always something squishy kids want.“Every kid wants Squishmallows now,” Brobston said.Sometimes, the kids want someone to talk to. Or they don’t want to say anything at all.“Some of the younger kids, you can tell they’ve been looking forward to meeting Santa, and they’re all excited. Then they get in front of you, and they see the boots and the suit and the beard, and they freeze up,” Brobston said.At that point, getting the child to share their Christmas wishes becomes a delicate negotiation.&nbsp;No matter how far away they stand, Brobston talks to them. If they draw closer, he invites them to sit next to him on the oversized bench. Or they can stand next to him.Ultimately, Brobston wants to get them in range for a photograph. He can see the hope building in the parent’s eyes as they draw near. Westland Mall has maintained a mall Santa for decades, and taking photos with him is a family tradition for many.“It’s kind of a living portrait. Everyone changes through the years, except Santa,” Brobston said.The mall offers professional photographs, but families can take as many photos as they like. Santa would never deny a family taking their own photo — and neither would Brobston.“A lot of people can’t afford it, and that’s okay,” he said.Brobston wants to get the kid in the door. If he keeps talking, they might start talking. If they don’t know what they want, Brobston will help them.“I say, ‘Well, what’s your favorite color?’” Brobston said.After about five questions, he can usually help them narrow it down. It’s his job to keep up with the latest toys.“I’ve had several kids ask for a telescope, which is kind of a new one. I thought that was kind of cool. Art supplies are a big one. I’ve had several kids ask for art supplies. It’s something I can talk to them about because I do art myself,” he said.Santa Brobston has only one real wish — to hear the wishes of as many children as possible. Because every one goes straight north.“As long as people have hope, I think Santa Claus will exist. Because that’s really what Santa Claus is about. We need hope,” he said.

52 Faces: Giving St. Nick a helping hand

Radio station owner brings Wreaths Across American to the area.

The concept of Wreaths Across America is so simple that KCPS Radio owner Chip Giannettino couldn’t believe it wasn’t in Burlington.

“I assumed we had that here. I mean Wreaths Across America has been going on since 1992,” he said.

Moved by the idea of placing wreaths on the graves of military veterans, Giannettino decided to bring the project to Burlington.&nbsp;

He learned about the event recently when interviewing Tiffany Hauptman on his radio show. She started the program for Danville, where wreaths were placed on the 111 veterans buried there.&nbsp;

“I knew Aspen Grove cemetery is a lot bigger, so I figured there might be about 500 veterans buried there,” Giannettino said.&nbsp;

He was shocked to find out that at least 3,000 veterans are buried there, dating back to before Iowa was a state. Giannettino had taken on a job 50 times bigger than he thought – and he attacked it with gusto.

“We opened a chapter of Wreaths Across America here,” he said.

After a short opening ceremony at 11 a.m. this Saturday in the north portion of Aspen Grove Cemetery, roughly 500 volunteers will fan out across the 140-acre resting place. They just won’t be placing wreaths on graves — they will do so respectfully, by saying the name of the veteran being honored.

Giannettino said the massive undertaking wouldn’t be possible without the help of Aspen Grove superintendent Mike Bloomer and the board of directors. They took to the idea as quickly as Giannettino did.

“Wreaths Across America has a simple goal — to put a remembrance wreath on every veteran’s grave, wherever they are in the world. So they started from Arlington. And now here we are 20-something years later, and this year will be the first time it’s over 4,000 cemeteries,” he said.&nbsp;

Giannettino surpassed the fundraising goal of 3,000 wreaths, and it’s not the first time he has raised money for the community. He and his wife, Val Giannettino, moved to Burlington when Chip bought KCPS in 1987.

It had been a country station and went bankrupt a few years prior. The equipment sat unused during that time, and when Giannettino tried turning it on while taking a potential buyer’s tour, smoke started emitting from it.

“I opened up the console, and saw I had started a small fire,” Giannettino said.&nbsp;

That told him all he needed to know. Giannettino had built up a comfortable nest egg working in movies and television in California with his wife Val. He wanted to buy a small, independent radio station in a small town so they could raise a family.

But he didn’t see a future in the broken-down radio station. Not until he offered half the asking price, which the owners gladly accepted.

“So, I came back and told my wife that I bought a radio station,” he said.&nbsp;

Chip didn’t think Val had ever heard of Burlington. He was shocked to find out it was where she visited her grandparents on an annual basis when she was a child. She was coming back home, in a way.

“We sold our house with all the furnishings,” Giannettino said.

The Giannettinos arrived in a car pulling a small U-Haul that contained their entire life. They loved Burlington, immediately immersing themselves in the community. Val headed up Downtown Partners Inc. for several years before becoming development director for Notre Dame and then Southeastern Community College.

But the first 10 years on the air was tough. KCPS was still a music station, and Giannettino had to fire his first-morning host shortly after hiring him.

So Chip became the host. He had planned on being an on-air personality and adopted the stage of “Fred W. Hoffman.”

“No one cared. We worked hard for a long time and lost our shorts,” Giannettino said.

Music on AM radio was dying, as was the old radio format. When Giannettino took over KCPS in 1987, the station went off the air at sunset.

It soon became a 24-hour radio station. Once Giannettino was able to drop the music and turn it into a talk radio station, everything changed.

“We decided that talk radio was going to be the thing that separated us out from just another music station,” he said.

For three hours every weekday morning, from 6 to 9 a.m., Giannettino talks about Burlington and the surrounding community.&nbsp;

He knows most of the callers and listeners. Some days, Burlington Mayor Jon Billups calls into the show to clarify talking points on the show.

Giannettino has raised four children with Val since they moved to Burlington 35 years ago, and those children are now scattered across the country, living successful lives.

He said he could never give back to Burlington enough.&nbsp;

The city and its people have helped Giannettino achieve everything he ever wanted.

Wreaths Across America is just a bigger way to give back. A way to honor those willing to give their lives for their country — no matter how long ago it may have been.&nbsp;

Giannettino plans to expand the program next year, laying wreaths on the veteran’s graves at county cemeteries, as well as Aspen Grove.

“We’re going to do our part, and we’re going to get this county covered one cemetery at a time,” he said.

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2023/12/1703005476449.jpeg" alt="Chip Giannettino (left), owner of KCPS, and Mike Bloomer (right), Aspen Grove Cemetery administrator, stand in front of the Des Moines County Veterans Memorial with one of the wreaths that will be placed as part of the Wreaths Across America Day event at Aspen Grove Cemetery on Saturday, Dec. 16. Photo/Stacey Abell" />
 <figcaption>Chip Giannettino (left), owner of KCPS, and Mike Bloomer (right), Aspen Grove Cemetery administrator, stand in front of the Des Moines County Veterans Memorial with one of the wreaths that will be placed as part of the Wreaths Across America Day event at Aspen Grove Cemetery on Saturday, Dec. 16. Photo/Stacey Abell</figcaption>
 </figure>Radio station owner brings Wreaths Across American to the area.By William SmithThe concept of Wreaths Across America is so simple that KCPS Radio owner Chip Giannettino couldn’t believe it wasn’t in Burlington.“I assumed we had that here. I mean Wreaths Across America has been going on since 1992,” he said.Moved by the idea of placing wreaths on the graves of military veterans, Giannettino decided to bring the project to Burlington.&nbsp;He learned about the event recently when interviewing Tiffany Hauptman on his radio show. She started the program for Danville, where wreaths were placed on the 111 veterans buried there.&nbsp;“I knew Aspen Grove cemetery is a lot bigger, so I figured there might be about 500 veterans buried there,” Giannettino said.&nbsp;He was shocked to find out that at least 3,000 veterans are buried there, dating back to before Iowa was a state. Giannettino had taken on a job 50 times bigger than he thought – and he attacked it with gusto.“We opened a chapter of Wreaths Across America here,” he said.After a short opening ceremony at 11 a.m. this Saturday in the north portion of Aspen Grove Cemetery, roughly 500 volunteers will fan out across the 140-acre resting place. They just won’t be placing wreaths on graves — they will do so respectfully, by saying the name of the veteran being honored.Giannettino said the massive undertaking wouldn’t be possible without the help of Aspen Grove superintendent Mike Bloomer and the board of directors. They took to the idea as quickly as Giannettino did.“Wreaths Across America has a simple goal — to put a remembrance wreath on every veteran’s grave, wherever they are in the world. So they started from Arlington. And now here we are 20-something years later, and this year will be the first time it’s over 4,000 cemeteries,” he said.&nbsp;Giannettino surpassed the fundraising goal of 3,000 wreaths, and it’s not the first time he has raised money for the community. He and his wife, Val Giannettino, moved to Burlington when Chip bought KCPS in 1987.<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2023/12/1703005631598.jpeg" alt="" />
 <figcaption></figcaption>
 </figure>It had been a country station and went bankrupt a few years prior. The equipment sat unused during that time, and when Giannettino tried turning it on while taking a potential buyer’s tour, smoke started emitting from it.“I opened up the console, and saw I had started a small fire,” Giannettino said.&nbsp;That told him all he needed to know. Giannettino had built up a comfortable nest egg working in movies and television in California with his wife Val. He wanted to buy a small, independent radio station in a small town so they could raise a family.But he didn’t see a future in the broken-down radio station. Not until he offered half the asking price, which the owners gladly accepted.“So, I came back and told my wife that I bought a radio station,” he said.&nbsp;Chip didn’t think Val had ever heard of Burlington. He was shocked to find out it was where she visited her grandparents on an annual basis when she was a child. She was coming back home, in a way.“We sold our house with all the furnishings,” Giannettino said.The Giannettinos arrived in a car pulling a small U-Haul that contained their entire life. They loved Burlington, immediately immersing themselves in the community. Val headed up Downtown Partners Inc. for several years before becoming development director for Notre Dame and then Southeastern Community College.But the first 10 years on the air was tough. KCPS was still a music station, and Giannettino had to fire his first-morning host shortly after hiring him.So Chip became the host. He had planned on being an on-air personality and adopted the stage of “Fred W. Hoffman.”“No one cared. We worked hard for a long time and lost our shorts,” Giannettino said.Music on AM radio was dying, as was the old radio format. When Giannettino took over KCPS in 1987, the station went off the air at sunset.It soon became a 24-hour radio station. Once Giannettino was able to drop the music and turn it into a talk radio station, everything changed.“We decided that talk radio was going to be the thing that separated us out from just another music station,” he said.For three hours every weekday morning, from 6 to 9 a.m., Giannettino talks about Burlington and the surrounding community.&nbsp;He knows most of the callers and listeners. Some days, Burlington Mayor Jon Billups calls into the show to clarify talking points on the show.Giannettino has raised four children with Val since they moved to Burlington 35 years ago, and those children are now scattered across the country, living successful lives.He said he could never give back to Burlington enough.&nbsp;The city and its people have helped Giannettino achieve everything he ever wanted.Wreaths Across America is just a bigger way to give back. A way to honor those willing to give their lives for their country — no matter how long ago it may have been.&nbsp;Giannettino plans to expand the program next year, laying wreaths on the veteran’s graves at county cemeteries, as well as Aspen Grove.“We’re going to do our part, and we’re going to get this county covered one cemetery at a time,” he said.

52 Faces: Honoring our veterans

Emergency room doctor Jeremy Owens, 43, isn’t a Burlington native. He’s from Cedar Rapids.

But he considers Burlington his adopted hometown and doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon. When Owens became a Burlington firefighter in 2008, he fell in love with the town – and the people.

“I have a lot of friends in the fire department. It’s like a brotherhood. There’s a lot of new faces in the department too, but I still know a lot of people,” he said.

To be of more service to them, Owens left his adopted hometown of Burlington for a few years to become a full-fledged physician.

“It was tough. There were only a handful of non-traditional students like me in my class,” Owens said of attending medical school. “But hospitals want some of that. They want doctors who have some life experience.”

After 12 years of EMT experience, Owens started his job as a doctor in the Southeast Iowa Regional Medical Center emergency room. He’s been there since June, working 12-hour shifts that often flip between graveyard hours and daytime work.

“There is no typical day. And that’s why I like it. You never know what you’re going to get when you walk through that door,” he said. “And I like the aspect of being out in the community.”

Growing up in Cedar Rapids, Owens wasn’t one of those kids who planned out their entire life trajectory. He didn’t know what he wanted to do when he grew up, and he didn’t care.

“I hated school, honestly. And when I graduated high school, I went to Kirkwood (Community College), and I was working at a bookstore,” he said.

Owens caught a glimpse of a possible future career one afternoon at the bookstore — and it wasn’t in any of the books.

“I remember seeing some firefighters respond to a fire alarm at the store next to us. And I was like, ‘Well, that seems like it’d be cool.’ And I started looking into that,” he said. “I was just taking some general classes at Kirkwood, and they had a fire science program there. So I started that.”

Owens came out of Kirkwood as a certified EMT, which is standard for a firefighter these days. Then he put that training to use.

“I started volunteering for the Hiawatha Fire Department up near Cedar Rapids. And they had just started an ambulance service up there. I liked that. I remember watching the paramedics there, and I always admired them. I wanted to be able to do what they could do,” Owens said.

Owens started at the Burlington Fire Department shortly after that, putting in eight years between 2008 and 2016. He loved the job but wanted more. The first step was to get his bachelor’s degree.

“So I started taking classes at the University of Iowa again, and I was driving back and forth for a while. I would get off work and drive up to Iowa City, do my classes, and come back down and work. And for about three years, that’s all I did was work and school,” he said.

Then Owens got into medical school and moved to Des Moines in 2016. It was all school after that, including residency work.

“I missed Burlington when I moved away,” he said.

Owens finished medical school in 2020 and started his residency in Peoria, Ill., just as the COVID-19 pandemic hit the world. He treated a lot of COVID-19 patients but never contracted it himself — as far as he knows.

“My second year (in residency), it was September of 2021, and we didn’t have hardly any COVID patients. It seemed like it had burned itself out in that population,” he said.

Owens doesn’t take much downtime. He finished his residency in June — the same month he started his new job at the Burlington ER. He unwinds in outdoor ways — hiking, running, and lately, archery.

Owens views his downtime more as a vacation than a release from the daily stress of being an ER medic. Though he can’t get into any specifics, Owens has treated everything an ER has to offer, from auto accidents and gunshot wounds to heart attacks.

None of it rattles him — not after a decade-plus of working traumatic scenes. Maintaining a calming presence via a soft but confident voice, Owens often delivers bad news to local people on one of the worst days of their lives.

Empathy is what keeps Owens in balance — and makes him that much more of a doctor.

“I have to remind myself that you’re dealing with people who are very stressed out, and you’ve got to take a step back and say, ‘Well, how would I feel in this situation?’” Owens said. “That’s one of the things I like about emergency medicine. It’s not only the patient, but their family you can help. Explain to them what’s going on, and what the next steps are, and relax the situation.”

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2023/11/1701363587948.jpeg" alt="Jeremy Owens once served residents of his adopted hometown as a Burlington firefighter from 2008 through 2016. He now helps the community as an emergency room physician at Southeast Iowa Regional Medical Center. Photo/John Lovretta" />
 <figcaption>Jeremy Owens once served residents of his adopted hometown as a Burlington firefighter from 2008 through 2016. He now helps the community as an emergency room physician at Southeast Iowa Regional Medical Center. Photo/John Lovretta</figcaption>
 </figure>By William SmithEmergency room doctor Jeremy Owens, 43, isn’t a Burlington native. He’s from Cedar Rapids.But he considers Burlington his adopted hometown and doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon. When Owens became a Burlington firefighter in 2008, he fell in love with the town – and the people.“I have a lot of friends in the fire department. It’s like a brotherhood. There’s a lot of new faces in the department too, but I still know a lot of people,” he said.To be of more service to them, Owens left his adopted hometown of Burlington for a few years to become a full-fledged physician.“It was tough. There were only a handful of non-traditional students like me in my class,” Owens said of attending medical school. “But hospitals want some of that. They want doctors who have some life experience.”After 12 years of EMT experience, Owens started his job as a doctor in the Southeast Iowa Regional Medical Center emergency room. He’s been there since June, working 12-hour shifts that often flip between graveyard hours and daytime work.Owens loves every minute of it.“There is no typical day. And that’s why I like it. You never know what you’re going to get when you walk through that door,” he said. “And I like the aspect of being out in the community.”Growing up in Cedar Rapids, Owens wasn’t one of those kids who planned out their entire life trajectory. He didn’t know what he wanted to do when he grew up, and he didn’t care.“I hated school, honestly. And when I graduated high school, I went to Kirkwood (Community College), and I was working at a bookstore,” he said.Owens caught a glimpse of a possible future career one afternoon at the bookstore — and it wasn’t in any of the books.“I remember seeing some firefighters respond to a fire alarm at the store next to us. And I was like, ‘Well, that seems like it’d be cool.’ And I started looking into that,” he said. “I was just taking some general classes at Kirkwood, and they had a fire science program there. So I started that.”Owens came out of Kirkwood as a certified EMT, which is standard for a firefighter these days. Then he put that training to use.“I started volunteering for the Hiawatha Fire Department up near Cedar Rapids. And they had just started an ambulance service up there. I liked that. I remember watching the paramedics there, and I always admired them. I wanted to be able to do what they could do,” Owens said.Owens started at the Burlington Fire Department shortly after that, putting in eight years between 2008 and 2016. He loved the job but wanted more. The first step was to get his bachelor’s degree.“So I started taking classes at the University of Iowa again, and I was driving back and forth for a while. I would get off work and drive up to Iowa City, do my classes, and come back down and work. And for about three years, that’s all I did was work and school,” he said.Then Owens got into medical school and moved to Des Moines in 2016. It was all school after that, including residency work.“I missed Burlington when I moved away,” he said.Owens finished medical school in 2020 and started his residency in Peoria, Ill., just as the COVID-19 pandemic hit the world. He treated a lot of COVID-19 patients but never contracted it himself — as far as he knows.By 2021, that had slowed down.“My second year (in residency), it was September of 2021, and we didn’t have hardly any COVID patients. It seemed like it had burned itself out in that population,” he said.Owens doesn’t take much downtime. He finished his residency in June — the same month he started his new job at the Burlington ER. He unwinds in outdoor ways — hiking, running, and lately, archery.“I like snowboarding too,” he said.Owens views his downtime more as a vacation than a release from the daily stress of being an ER medic. Though he can’t get into any specifics, Owens has treated everything an ER has to offer, from auto accidents and gunshot wounds to heart attacks.None of it rattles him — not after a decade-plus of working traumatic scenes. Maintaining a calming presence via a soft but confident voice, Owens often delivers bad news to local people on one of the worst days of their lives.Empathy is what keeps Owens in balance — and makes him that much more of a doctor.“I have to remind myself that you’re dealing with people who are very stressed out, and you’ve got to take a step back and say, ‘Well, how would I feel in this situation?’” Owens said. “That’s one of the things I like about emergency medicine. It’s not only the patient, but their family you can help. Explain to them what’s going on, and what the next steps are, and relax the situation.”

Healing with Empathy

Burlington native and resident Joan White was one of the first eight women in the country to guide stateside pilots from a control tower during the Korean War.

More than a few Air Force pilots were shocked to hear a woman in the control tower, including one who complained during a thunderstorm.

“I remember he said (over the radio), ‘My God, they’ve got a woman in the control tower!’” White said, laughing. “We were an oddity.”

White has always been a tough cookie and a smart one. She let comments like that roll off her back, letting snappy one-liners play out in her mind.

“I wanted to say, ‘And you better listen to me, or you’re going to be off course,’ ” White said.

White and her family didn’t think her service unusual. She came from a military family.&nbsp;

It only seemed reasonable for White, who at the time was Joan Cook.

“I enlisted in February of 1951. I enlisted because many of my friends were getting killed (in the Korean War),” she said.

White had graduated high school three years earlier. She went to control tower school after basic training and worked in a control tower in Washington State. She later went to San Antonio, Texas, where she was adjunct to a supply squadron.

“That’s when they were sending a lot of guys overseas at the same time. They would come in and assign them a job, and in less than six weeks they would be gone,” she said. “So my CO (commanding officer) dumped all their jobs on me. I was a payroll officer, salvage store officer, and clothing store officer. I think I had about eight jobs at one time. But it was interesting.”

It’s her time in the air traffic control tower that sticks out most to White. Control tower school for the Air Force was in Biloxi, Miss.

“I had worked for the telephone company, and I think that’s why they wanted me for the control tower. They knew I could handle myself on the phone, and you have to talk on the mic to the pilots,” she said.

There was no separate building that served as a tower back then. It was located on top of the hangar, and there were usually only two or three people in there at once.

“You know how high these hangars are. We had to climb up the steps on one side, cross the gang-plank through the center of the hangar, climb a ladder, and come up through a trap door,” she said.&nbsp;

White served two years in the military, which included officers’ training school, and exited the service as an Air Force Second Lieutenant.&nbsp;

She doesn’t have any regrets but does often wonder how her life would be different if she stayed in the service.

White wouldn’t have been allowed to serve in combat in the 1950s, but she saw the effect it had on the men. During a visit to a medical ward in Fort Lewis, Wash., she was told not to talk to any of the patients.

Almost all of the patients had the 100-yard stare, suffering from extreme post-traumatic stress disorder.

“It was bad. They (the soldiers) had this stare. They didn’t know what was going on,” she said. “The first one I saw was a boy I used to ice skate with at Crapo Park. It got me, I tell you. I can still see his face. I often wonder what happened to him. He was the funniest little kid. He loved to crack the whip when we were ice skating.”

Life moved on for White. She got married and lived in Media, Ill., with her husband and three daughters, where she worked as a physical education instructor for a public school. Joan and her husband, Jim, later got divorced, and she moved back to Burlington. Her daughters graduated from Burlington High School.

White has always been a musician at heart. She became obsessed with piano at a young age and played violin in the Southeast Iowa Symphony Orchestra. She taught violin lessons in the Suzuki Strings program and even played cello.

It’s been a good life. White is 93 years old and resides at The Views assisted living facility. And she’s still as practical and strong-willed as she was 70 years ago.

“I can’t believe I’ve lived this long,” she said, laughing again.

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2023/11/1700267279407.jpeg" alt="Above: United States Air Force veteran Joan White takes time to pose for a photo while reflecting on her military service. Photo/John Lovretta" />
 <figcaption>Above: United States Air Force veteran Joan White takes time to pose for a photo while reflecting on her military service. Photo/John Lovretta</figcaption>
 </figure>By William SmithBurlington native and resident Joan White was one of the first eight women in the country to guide stateside pilots from a control tower during the Korean War.More than a few Air Force pilots were shocked to hear a woman in the control tower, including one who complained during a thunderstorm.“I remember he said (over the radio), ‘My God, they’ve got a woman in the control tower!’” White said, laughing. “We were an oddity.”White has always been a tough cookie and a smart one. She let comments like that roll off her back, letting snappy one-liners play out in her mind.“I wanted to say, ‘And you better listen to me, or you’re going to be off course,’ ” White said.White and her family didn’t think her service unusual. She came from a military family.&nbsp;It only seemed reasonable for White, who at the time was Joan Cook.“I enlisted in February of 1951. I enlisted because many of my friends were getting killed (in the Korean War),” she said.White had graduated high school three years earlier. She went to control tower school after basic training and worked in a control tower in Washington State. She later went to San Antonio, Texas, where she was adjunct to a supply squadron.“That’s when they were sending a lot of guys overseas at the same time. They would come in and assign them a job, and in less than six weeks they would be gone,” she said. “So my CO (commanding officer) dumped all their jobs on me. I was a payroll officer, salvage store officer, and clothing store officer. I think I had about eight jobs at one time. But it was interesting.”<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2023/11/1700267373194.jpeg" alt="A photograph of United States Air Force veteran Joan White at her basic training graduation on April 5, 1951." />
 <figcaption>A photograph of United States Air Force veteran Joan White at her basic training graduation on April 5, 1951.</figcaption>
 </figure>It’s her time in the air traffic control tower that sticks out most to White. Control tower school for the Air Force was in Biloxi, Miss.“I had worked for the telephone company, and I think that’s why they wanted me for the control tower. They knew I could handle myself on the phone, and you have to talk on the mic to the pilots,” she said.There was no separate building that served as a tower back then. It was located on top of the hangar, and there were usually only two or three people in there at once.“You know how high these hangars are. We had to climb up the steps on one side, cross the gang-plank through the center of the hangar, climb a ladder, and come up through a trap door,” she said.&nbsp;White served two years in the military, which included officers’ training school, and exited the service as an Air Force Second Lieutenant.&nbsp;She doesn’t have any regrets but does often wonder how her life would be different if she stayed in the service.White wouldn’t have been allowed to serve in combat in the 1950s, but she saw the effect it had on the men. During a visit to a medical ward in Fort Lewis, Wash., she was told not to talk to any of the patients.Almost all of the patients had the 100-yard stare, suffering from extreme post-traumatic stress disorder.“It was bad. They (the soldiers) had this stare. They didn’t know what was going on,” she said. “The first one I saw was a boy I used to ice skate with at Crapo Park. It got me, I tell you. I can still see his face. I often wonder what happened to him. He was the funniest little kid. He loved to crack the whip when we were ice skating.”Life moved on for White. She got married and lived in Media, Ill., with her husband and three daughters, where she worked as a physical education instructor for a public school. Joan and her husband, Jim, later got divorced, and she moved back to Burlington. Her daughters graduated from Burlington High School.White has always been a musician at heart. She became obsessed with piano at a young age and played violin in the Southeast Iowa Symphony Orchestra. She taught violin lessons in the Suzuki Strings program and even played cello.It’s been a good life. White is 93 years old and resides at The Views assisted living facility. And she’s still as practical and strong-willed as she was 70 years ago.“I can’t believe I’ve lived this long,” she said, laughing again.

Korean War Veteran Breaks Barriers 

So she formed a non-profit with the intent of raising an initial $2.5 million to open Heart Song Day Center at 2610 S. Fifth St., the site of the former Burlington Care Center between Crapo and Dankwardt Parks.

She formed a board of directors in 2019, the board bought the building, and they’ve begun a capital campaign to raise money for the center.

“Adult day services will be part of Phase 1,” Hanks said. “That is our priority right now is to get the adult day center up and running.

“The Day Center is a place that people can go that are no longer able to live home alone, or no longer to be alone,” Hanks said. “Now they need a caregiver.”

The center will give seniors “the opportunity to have a program that gives them dignity and a purpose in an interactive environment,” she said.

She said it will be open Monday through Friday, except holidays, from 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m.

Hanks is a speech pathologist who works for several agencies. Four years ago she switched to part-time to devote more time to her project.

“It really began when I was working on the rehab unit at the hospital, and we were trying to find services for people so that they could be discharged home,” Hanks said.

“A group of therapists and physicians thought it would be a good idea to have a daycare center for people to go to.”

Hanks toured several facilities in Iowa to see what they were doing.

“My mother, Joyce Brockway, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s dementia, and I saw the burden that it placed on my father (Terry), to take care of her,” Hanks said.

“I began researching what it would take to open an adult day center. I contacted the state of Iowa for the rules and regulations. I contacted several non-profit organizations to see if opening (one) would fit into their programming, and none of them could take it under their wing.”

That’s when she started her own non-profit. Attorney Marlis Robberts was put on the board of directors, and she’s the legal advisor.

COVID shut down the presentations, and now she’s resuming her efforts.

“We have to do modifications, and we’ve got to spruce it up,” Hanks said of the former care center.

“We’re going to redo the front of it, the community room (and have) all new flooring. The walls will be redone, and the ceiling will be redone. It needs a new roof, and it needs new windows over 75 percent of the building,” she said.

“The city has verbally stated they will work with us to get bus services there,” said Hanks, or maybe the SEIBUS bus.

Hanks wants the center to be a place for community events as well.

Soon after Phase 1 is completed, she’ll start on Phase 2. “We want to be a one-stop shop for seniors and have resources available for them,” Hanks said. “Also we want a cafe that will be open to the public, a small indoor space, and a large outdoor space.”

She’s hoping to get Milestones Area Agency on Aging at the building as well as have a food pantry.

“Another wing of the building could be used as a therapy clinic,” Hanks said.

She also wants to provide training and support to the caregivers. “We can help train the caregivers and educate them so they can better care for their loved one,” Hanks said.

For more information about the project and how to donate, contact Hanks at 319-214-0509 or email the organization at info@heartsongiowa.org. The website is www.heartsongiowa.org.

By Chris FaulknerDenise Hanks has a heart for seniors.So she formed a non-profit with the intent of raising an initial $2.5 million to open Heart Song Day Center at 2610 S. Fifth St., the site of the former Burlington Care Center between Crapo and Dankwardt Parks.She formed a board of directors in 2019, the board bought the building, and they’ve begun a capital campaign to raise money for the center.“Adult day services will be part of Phase 1,” Hanks said. “That is our priority right now is to get the adult day center up and running.“The Day Center is a place that people can go that are no longer able to live home alone, or no longer to be alone,” Hanks said. “Now they need a caregiver.”The center will give seniors “the opportunity to have a program that gives them dignity and a purpose in an interactive environment,” she said.She said it will be open Monday through Friday, except holidays, from 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m.Hanks is a speech pathologist who works for several agencies. Four years ago she switched to part-time to devote more time to her project.“It really began when I was working on the rehab unit at the hospital, and we were trying to find services for people so that they could be discharged home,” Hanks said.“A group of therapists and physicians thought it would be a good idea to have a daycare center for people to go to.”Hanks toured several facilities in Iowa to see what they were doing.“My mother, Joyce Brockway, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s dementia, and I saw the burden that it placed on my father (Terry), to take care of her,” Hanks said.“I began researching what it would take to open an adult day center. I contacted the state of Iowa for the rules and regulations. I contacted several non-profit organizations to see if opening (one) would fit into their programming, and none of them could take it under their wing.”That’s when she started her own non-profit. Attorney Marlis Robberts was put on the board of directors, and she’s the legal advisor.COVID shut down the presentations, and now she’s resuming her efforts.“We have to do modifications, and we’ve got to spruce it up,” Hanks said of the former care center.“We’re going to redo the front of it, the community room (and have) all new flooring. The walls will be redone, and the ceiling will be redone. It needs a new roof, and it needs new windows over 75 percent of the building,” she said.“The city has verbally stated they will work with us to get bus services there,” said Hanks, or maybe the SEIBUS bus.Hanks wants the center to be a place for community events as well.Soon after Phase 1 is completed, she’ll start on Phase 2. “We want to be a one-stop shop for seniors and have resources available for them,” Hanks said. “Also we want a cafe that will be open to the public, a small indoor space, and a large outdoor space.”She’s hoping to get Milestones Area Agency on Aging at the building as well as have a food pantry.“Another wing of the building could be used as a therapy clinic,” Hanks said.She also wants to provide training and support to the caregivers. “We can help train the caregivers and educate them so they can better care for their loved one,” Hanks said.For more information about the project and how to donate, contact Hanks at 319-214-0509 or email the organization at info@heartsongiowa.org. The website is www.heartsongiowa.org.

Hanks seeks funds to open senior day center near parks

The U.S. Marines are looking for a few good toys. Well, make that thousands of good new toys, and that’s just for Des Moines County alone.

Todd Lange, a local chiropractor, leads the annual Toys for Tots drive for the Hamilton Walters Marine Corps League, and he spoke to the Rotary Club Monday about the Des Moines County drive and the national organization, which is working on its 76th Christmas.

When Lange first started as the Local Community Organizer 27 years ago, the group collected mostly used toys and served about 250 children.

Eventually, it changed to having people just donate new and unwrapped toys, which are placed in drop-off boxes in stores and restaurants around the county, as well as at the library.

There are 50 drop-off boxes in Des Moines County alone, The Hamilton Walters League also runs programs in Henry, Van Buren, and Louisa Counties in Iowa and Henderson County in Illinois.

Last year they served 2,649 children, with more than 1,000 of those living in Des Moines County.

Registration for families to receive toys goes from Nov. 20 to Dec. 1 at the Rock House on 2700 Division St., from 9 a.m. to noon and 1-3 p.m. The age limit is 13, although families that also have a child a year or two older can add them.

Where there used to be an income guideline, Lange said the corporate office is asking its local groups to not have any income restrictions. “We have the toys, we want to give all the kids Christmas,” Lange said.

But he said the group is still strict in other areas. “We double-check for double dippers,” he said. “We check for the kids, make sure that these are the parents of the kids or they have guardianship of the kids.”

Distribution of the toys is Saturday, Dec. 9, at Memorial Auditorium.

“We’ll have close to 900 to 950 families go through there,” Lange said, “and we’ll do that in four, four-and-a-half hours, so that’s 35-40 families every half hour.”

When families register, they get a card that tells how many kids they have, their ages, and their gender. Then they bring that card to the distribution day, and volunteers take them shopping.

“They’ll get a big toy, a small toy, a coloring book and crayons, a game, a book, and a few stocking stuffers,” Lange said.

“That sounds like a lot, but in the whole scheme, it’s only $50-60 per child.”

In addition to the drop-off boxes, Toys for Tots has a Semi of Love program on Dec. 1-2 at Westland Mall.

“We raise around $10-12,000 there, and we’ll have 150-250 boxes of toys,” Lange said.

Lange said he has many volunteers that help go out and buy toys to supplement those donated, but, “It’s hard to find stores that sell toys anymore.”

Lange said Toys for Tots is a Fortune magazine top 100 non-profit company.

“Our claim to fame is that 97 percent of the (cash) donations made to Toys for Tots are used for purchasing toys,” he said. “We have three percent used for fundraising and overhead.”

Toys for Tots has a foundation, and a generous endowment helps the organization run its operations.

Last year’s cash donations by his group totaled $36,000, but Lange said, “When you start buying toys that are $15-$30 a toy, that’s only 1,200-1,500 toys.

“We really appreciate when people bring in the toys,” he said.

Lange said there are 12 organizations that they also support, including toy drives by the Salvation Army, police and sheriff departments, churches, and community centers.

Toys for Tots first began in 1947 when a Marine Reserve Unit commander, Major Bill Hendricks, prompted by his wife, gathered up used toys for the children in their area of Los Angeles.

The next year, a commandment declared that the Marine Corps Reserves would start a nationwide Toys for Tots campaign. Lange said the U.S. Marines themselves take part as well.

By Chris FaulknerThe U.S. Marines are looking for a few good toys. Well, make that thousands of good new toys, and that’s just for Des Moines County alone.Todd Lange, a local chiropractor, leads the annual Toys for Tots drive for the Hamilton Walters Marine Corps League, and he spoke to the Rotary Club Monday about the Des Moines County drive and the national organization, which is working on its 76th Christmas.When Lange first started as the Local Community Organizer 27 years ago, the group collected mostly used toys and served about 250 children.Eventually, it changed to having people just donate new and unwrapped toys, which are placed in drop-off boxes in stores and restaurants around the county, as well as at the library.There are 50 drop-off boxes in Des Moines County alone, The Hamilton Walters League also runs programs in Henry, Van Buren, and Louisa Counties in Iowa and Henderson County in Illinois.Last year they served 2,649 children, with more than 1,000 of those living in Des Moines County.Registration for families to receive toys goes from Nov. 20 to Dec. 1 at the Rock House on 2700 Division St., from 9 a.m. to noon and 1-3 p.m. The age limit is 13, although families that also have a child a year or two older can add them.Where there used to be an income guideline, Lange said the corporate office is asking its local groups to not have any income restrictions. “We have the toys, we want to give all the kids Christmas,” Lange said.But he said the group is still strict in other areas. “We double-check for double dippers,” he said. “We check for the kids, make sure that these are the parents of the kids or they have guardianship of the kids.”Distribution of the toys is Saturday, Dec. 9, at Memorial Auditorium.“We’ll have close to 900 to 950 families go through there,” Lange said, “and we’ll do that in four, four-and-a-half hours, so that’s 35-40 families every half hour.”When families register, they get a card that tells how many kids they have, their ages, and their gender. Then they bring that card to the distribution day, and volunteers take them shopping.“They’ll get a big toy, a small toy, a coloring book and crayons, a game, a book, and a few stocking stuffers,” Lange said.“That sounds like a lot, but in the whole scheme, it’s only $50-60 per child.”In addition to the drop-off boxes, Toys for Tots has a Semi of Love program on Dec. 1-2 at Westland Mall.“We raise around $10-12,000 there, and we’ll have 150-250 boxes of toys,” Lange said.Lange said he has many volunteers that help go out and buy toys to supplement those donated, but, “It’s hard to find stores that sell toys anymore.”Lange said Toys for Tots is a Fortune magazine top 100 non-profit company.“Our claim to fame is that 97 percent of the (cash) donations made to Toys for Tots are used for purchasing toys,” he said. “We have three percent used for fundraising and overhead.”Toys for Tots has a foundation, and a generous endowment helps the organization run its operations.Last year’s cash donations by his group totaled $36,000, but Lange said, “When you start buying toys that are $15-$30 a toy, that’s only 1,200-1,500 toys.“We really appreciate when people bring in the toys,” he said.Lange said there are 12 organizations that they also support, including toy drives by the Salvation Army, police and sheriff departments, churches, and community centers.Toys for Tots first began in 1947 when a Marine Reserve Unit commander, Major Bill Hendricks, prompted by his wife, gathered up used toys for the children in their area of Los Angeles.The next year, a commandment declared that the Marine Corps Reserves would start a nationwide Toys for Tots campaign. Lange said the U.S. Marines themselves take part as well.

Marines looking for a few good toys this holiday season

Michelle Russell sees food differently than most people.

A dietitian and nutrition therapist by trade, Russell sees food for what it is. Sustenance, flavor, culture. A necessary part of life forever intertwined with mental health.

That’s how one of life’s greatest joys can become one of life’s biggest anxieties.

“It’s not cut and dry. You have to eat every day. And part of recovery is eating consistently,” Russell said.

Russell knows that better than anyone. She struggled with an eating disorder herself.

“That is the challenge, you have to kind of do exposure therapy with it day in and day out to get better,” she said.

Russell’s biggest frustration is the lag between new information concerning food and health and traditional medical knowledge. That gulf is represented most in the (Body Mass Index) BMI, which Russell and other dietitians have criticized. BMI is a person’s weight divided by the square of height.&nbsp;

A high BMI is often a poor indicator of health. Body shapes are too diverse to fit into such a narrow standard. A person’s weight doesn’t always directly correlate to health, Russell said. In turn, a person’s weight doesn’t relate to their eating disorder, either, despite popular misconceptions.

“I think it’s actually quite common for people to have a very disordered relationship with food,” Russell said.&nbsp;

Eating disorders usually spring from mental health difficulties rather than the food itself. Russell said how a person thinks about food determines their relationship with it.

Much like depression, an eating disorder can manifest gradually, becoming the new “normal” for the person struggling with it.

“I found myself thinking I was being really healthy and taking care of myself. And it became apparent at some point what I was doing was very destructive. And I was thinking about food all the time, worried about my weight all the time. And that was not a healthy place to be,” she said.

Russell was born and raised in Burlington and then went to Iowa State University. Soon, she would start studying nutrition. She never imagined she would develop an eating disorder, or that it would spur her into a new career.

“What drove me to becoming a dietitian was actually developing an eating disorder myself,” she said. “And so I went through eating disorder recovery while studying to be a dietitian, and knew that I always wanted to support people in recovery.”

First, Russell needed to take time to heal herself, then she started healing others.

“I try to help people understand the early signs of eating disorders. People are paying attention to things (such as calories) to stay healthy, but that takes on a whole different spin,” she said.

Realizing that you have an eating disorder is the first step. Russell said the next steps in treatment are bolstered by a support system – professional and personal.

“I tried to stop what I was doing on my own, and it wasn’t effective,” she said. “I was spending a lot of time and thinking a lot about food rather than engaging in life or relationships.”

As a board-certified food and nutrition expert, Russell was the Burlington Hy-Vee dietitian for a few years.&nbsp;

Now she has her own dietitian business downtown – Food Freedom -- and has found herself in high demand. Russell uses her full range of talents as a certified eating disorder specialist and a certified intuitive eating counselor.

“I think that with diet culture, there’s still this hierarchy of bodies that we are well aware of in terms of what’s the most desirable body type to have. And so we can’t necessarily escape that. But we can opt out of having to believe that about ourselves or other people,” Russell said. “We can honor that body size, diversity is real, it’s always been there.”

Food is food, and can’t be divorced from everyday life like drugs and alcohol. That is why Russell wants her clients to be comfortable with eating because many disorders hinge on the guilt of overeating, and that is often the most difficult obstacle to overcome.

“Morally, there are no good or bad foods,” Russell said. “We need a mix of different nutrients and food groups. We really can’t outsmart our bodies because our body’s biology is going to push back. So a lot of it’s about getting back in touch with our bodies. Intuitive eating.”

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2023/10/1698691353348.jpeg" alt="Michelle Russell, a dietitian/nutrition therapist and founder of Food Freedom is shown with her dog Lucy on Tuesday, Oct. 17 in downtown Burlington. Photo/John Lovretta" />
 <figcaption>Michelle Russell, a dietitian/nutrition therapist and founder of Food Freedom is shown with her dog Lucy on Tuesday, Oct. 17 in downtown Burlington. Photo/John Lovretta</figcaption>
 </figure>By William SmithMichelle Russell sees food differently than most people.A dietitian and nutrition therapist by trade, Russell sees food for what it is. Sustenance, flavor, culture. A necessary part of life forever intertwined with mental health.That’s how one of life’s greatest joys can become one of life’s biggest anxieties.“It’s not cut and dry. You have to eat every day. And part of recovery is eating consistently,” Russell said.Russell knows that better than anyone. She struggled with an eating disorder herself.“That is the challenge, you have to kind of do exposure therapy with it day in and day out to get better,” she said.Russell’s biggest frustration is the lag between new information concerning food and health and traditional medical knowledge. That gulf is represented most in the (Body Mass Index) BMI, which Russell and other dietitians have criticized. BMI is a person’s weight divided by the square of height.&nbsp;A high BMI is often a poor indicator of health. Body shapes are too diverse to fit into such a narrow standard. A person’s weight doesn’t always directly correlate to health, Russell said. In turn, a person’s weight doesn’t relate to their eating disorder, either, despite popular misconceptions.“I think it’s actually quite common for people to have a very disordered relationship with food,” Russell said.&nbsp;Eating disorders usually spring from mental health difficulties rather than the food itself. Russell said how a person thinks about food determines their relationship with it.Much like depression, an eating disorder can manifest gradually, becoming the new “normal” for the person struggling with it.That’s how it happened to Russell.“I found myself thinking I was being really healthy and taking care of myself. And it became apparent at some point what I was doing was very destructive. And I was thinking about food all the time, worried about my weight all the time. And that was not a healthy place to be,” she said.Russell was born and raised in Burlington and then went to Iowa State University. Soon, she would start studying nutrition. She never imagined she would develop an eating disorder, or that it would spur her into a new career.“What drove me to becoming a dietitian was actually developing an eating disorder myself,” she said. “And so I went through eating disorder recovery while studying to be a dietitian, and knew that I always wanted to support people in recovery.”First, Russell needed to take time to heal herself, then she started healing others.“I try to help people understand the early signs of eating disorders. People are paying attention to things (such as calories) to stay healthy, but that takes on a whole different spin,” she said.Realizing that you have an eating disorder is the first step. Russell said the next steps in treatment are bolstered by a support system – professional and personal.“I tried to stop what I was doing on my own, and it wasn’t effective,” she said. “I was spending a lot of time and thinking a lot about food rather than engaging in life or relationships.”As a board-certified food and nutrition expert, Russell was the Burlington Hy-Vee dietitian for a few years.&nbsp;Now she has her own dietitian business downtown – Food Freedom -- and has found herself in high demand. Russell uses her full range of talents as a certified eating disorder specialist and a certified intuitive eating counselor.“I think that with diet culture, there’s still this hierarchy of bodies that we are well aware of in terms of what’s the most desirable body type to have. And so we can’t necessarily escape that. But we can opt out of having to believe that about ourselves or other people,” Russell said. “We can honor that body size, diversity is real, it’s always been there.”Food is food, and can’t be divorced from everyday life like drugs and alcohol. That is why Russell wants her clients to be comfortable with eating because many disorders hinge on the guilt of overeating, and that is often the most difficult obstacle to overcome.“Morally, there are no good or bad foods,” Russell said. “We need a mix of different nutrients and food groups. We really can’t outsmart our bodies because our body’s biology is going to push back. So a lot of it’s about getting back in touch with our bodies. Intuitive eating.”

52 Faces: Learning to embrace food

Fred Kelly is just the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.

He’s also one of the most helpful. After a career teaching in public education, Kelly now shepherds locals through the SHIIP process at Southeast Iowa Regional Medical Center.

The Senior Health Insurance Information Program (SHIIP) helps Medicare beneficiaries better understand their Medicare coverage options and benefits.&nbsp;

<figure>
 <img src="https://d2eftiauov6o73.cloudfront.net/public/2023/10/1697932230535.jpeg" alt="Fred Kelly, who has helped people navigate drug plans for Medicare through his volunteer efforts with the state Senior Health Insurance Information Program (SHIIP), is shown on Oct. 3 in his office at the Southeast Iowa Regional Medical Center in West Burlington. Fred who has been recognized numerous times for his volunteer work is especially proud of being a 2017 Iowa Volunteer Hall of Fame inductee. Photo/John Lovretta" />
 <figcaption>Fred Kelly, who has helped people navigate drug plans for Medicare through his volunteer efforts with the state Senior Health Insurance Information Program (SHIIP), is shown on Oct. 3 in his office at the Southeast Iowa Regional Medical Center in West Burlington. Fred who has been recognized numerous times for his volunteer work is especially proud of being a 2017 Iowa Volunteer Hall of Fame inductee. Photo/John Lovretta</figcaption>
 </figure>By William SmithFred Kelly is just the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.He’s also one of the most helpful. After a career teaching in public education, Kelly now shepherds locals through the SHIIP process at Southeast Iowa Regional Medical Center.The Senior Health Insurance Information Program (SHIIP) helps Medicare beneficiaries better understand their Medicare coverage options and benefits.&nbsp;“I present information that will help them make choices. We don’t make any choices for them, we just give them the options,” Kelly said. “In 2006, when Medicare came out with their drug plans, that became a big part of the SHIIP program.”Kelly has been a SHIIP coordinator for a decade, strictly on a volunteer basis. There was a SHIIP office when he started at the hospital, but it wasn’t active. That soon changed.Kelly’s role at the hospital was small at first and quickly grew. Before he knew it, Kelly had his own office on the bottom floor of the hospital.“So from Oct. 15 to Dec. 7, we spend a lot of time helping people choose drug plans. And they can change them every year,” Kelly said.Kelly said he has had over 39,000 client contacts since he started, though that includes every repeat visit.“You’d be surprised at the number of people who leave here with the biggest smile on their face. It’s a big decision because you’re going to be spending some money no matter which way you go. We try to help them find the least expensive way,” Kelly said.A Career in EducationKelly was born and raised in Burlington. He’s spent his whole life there, though he and his wife Margaret traveled the country for about four years.Before the travel, though, there was education. Kelly was an elementary school teacher for 32 years. He graduated from Burlington Junior College, and originally wanted to be a math teacher.“I love math and the process, but I couldn’t afford to go to a four-year college,” he said.Things have a way of working out. Kelly discovered a passion for elementary education at Burlington Junior College, and it changed the trajectory of his life.After three years of teaching at smaller schools, Kelly started teaching in the Burlington School District. He stayed there until retirement.Most of the schools Kelly taught at have been torn down and replaced, but not all of them.“I was at BlackHawk, Prospect Hill, Perkins, North Hill, and Washington,” he said.When Kelly reached the point where he could draw full IPERS benefits, he retired from his 32-year career.&nbsp;“So I retired in my 50s,” he said. “But I didn’t want to just sit around and do nothing.”Traveling the CountryTo alleviate his boredom, Kelly started cruising the help wanted ads. He came across a job he had never even thought about before — and it sounded intriguing.&nbsp;Someone was needed to fill vending machines.“It wasn’t a 40-hour-a-week job, but I loved it,” Kelly said.That gave way to a job that allowed Kelly and his wife to travel the country on a company dime. They weren’t even sure it was real at first.“We thought nothing could be that good,” Kelly said.But it was. The Kellys started working for a hearing test company that was contracted to meet OSHA requirements for large corporations.“And so for four years, we traveled all over the country. We were only home two weeks a year. We saw places that we never would have seen otherwise,” Kelly said.Love of His LifeAs Kelly gets older, he doesn’t volunteer as many hours at the hospital as he used to. Those 40-hour volunteer work weeks have been cut down to about 10 hours.Kelly is living his best life right now. He and Margaret are celebrating 58 years of marriage this month, and he never tires of spinning the tale of their whirlwind courtship.“We met while we were working on our master’s degrees. We had a date, and at the end of the first date, I proposed to her. And she accepted,” Kelly said with a grin.&nbsp;“We were engaged in July and married in October.”There aren’t many people as happy with the choices they made in life as Fred Kelly. He has a robust family full of healthy children and grandchildren. And he’s married to the love of his life.&nbsp;“People said we would never last. So I must have made a good choice,” he said.