By Elaine Wilson
Special to American Forces Press Service
July 6, 2007 – Army Spc. Hollis Richardson glides across the rink, balancing his body on just a slab of metal and two thin blades. He digs two sticks into the ice, kicking up a light mist as he rushes to propel himself to the puck. Veering to the right, he evades an opponent and knocks the puck to a teammate just as he collides with another player, metal slashing metal. He quickly rights himself, gains balance and glides back into the game.
Like his time on the ice, life has been a balancing act for Richardson since he was injured just over a year ago. He was patrolling in Iraq when a rocket-propelled grenade struck his right leg and shrapnel riddled his left. The medics were racing to get him on a stretcher and out of danger when he was shot in the back. He suffered massive nerve damage to his right leg and some nerve damage to his left. He also fractured his pelvic bone.
Richardson has spent the last year recovering at Brooke Army Medical Center here, learning how to walk again and tinkering with car engines in his free time. He heard about a sled hockey team from his buddies at the hospital and decided to try it out, although he was a self-proclaimed non-athlete.
"I never played sports before except for some soccer as a kid," the 23-year-old said, a little out of breath after a two-hour practice at the Ice Center at Northwoods here. "It's been fun. I plan to keep it up; I have my own sled now and my name on my gear."
Richardson and his teammates, a mix of wounded warriors and local players, make up the San Antonio Rampage Sled Hockey Team. The sport is a modified version of ice hockey, altered to accommodate physical disabilities. Players propel themselves across the ice with sticks a third of regulation size while riding metal-frame sleds balanced on two skate blades. Aside from the equipment, the rules are about the same, as are the wrenching collisions and puck battles on the ice.
The team's coach, Lonnie Hannah, is well known in the sled hockey scene; he was part of the U.S. sled hockey team that won the gold medal at the 2002 Paralympic Games and bronze in 2006.
"The sport is great therapy, not just physically but mentally," said Hannah, also a former national champion speed skater. "It gets the guys out of the hospital and into society."
Hannah speaks from experience. He was injured in a work-related accident more than 20 years ago. But rather than being bound to a wheelchair, Hannah switched from speed skating to adaptive sports. He played wheelchair tennis and basketball before he discovered a passion for sled hockey.
"In the hospital, people are there to help, to do for you," Hannah said. "But at the rink, you're carrying and putting on your equipment, doing everything for yourself. It builds resilience."
Like the coach, referees also are volunteers. They officiate games and help facilitate weekly practices.
One of the referees stepped onto the rink near the end of a recent afternoon practice and sped across the ice with the ease of a lifelong skater. He moved the puck from the edges of the rink to keep the game going, as he joked with players to keep the mood light. The referee is a familiar face on and off the rink for the players, since he's also the commander of Fort Sam Houston.
"There's a great sense of camaraderie," said Maj. Gen. Russell Czerw, who tries to squeeze as much ice time as he can into his busy schedule. "Everyone is out here working together; the sport brings a sense of team and unity.
"It's also an exhausting sport. Not so much for these guys, but for the ones who play them and aren't used to the game," he added with a smile.
Since sled hockey is not a common sport in San Antonio, teammates play each other, or "stand-up" hockey players take a seat for a game. But the game is tough for players who are accustomed to a different version of the sport.
"They had no problem beating us," said Air Force Staff Sgt. Jason Hess, member of the San Antonio Men of War, a local ice hockey team that played the Rampage on June 16; Hess' team lost 3-1. "It's a lot more challenging than it looks. It takes a lot of strength and balance to play on a sled."
The teams' coordinator, Janis Roznowski, is working to beef up opposition for the team. The creator of the nonprofit group Operation Comfort, Roznowski was the driving force behind the sled hockey team. She decided to start a local team after taking a group of wounded warriors on a ski trip to Sun Valley, Idaho, in 2004, where they got their first glimpse of the sport.
"The guys' eyes lit up," Roznowski said. "I thought it would be great to start a team here."
What started out as a few players knocking around a puck has grown into an organized team with national aspirations. "The San Antonio Rampage (local professional ice hockey team) adopted us, donating equipment, and San Antonio Parks and Recreation has been a great help," said Roznowski, who continues to help the players from Brooke Army Medical Center with transportation and funding for rink time. "Our next step is to build the team up and start traveling to other cities for games so we can be competitive on a national level."
In the meantime, the sled hockey team welcomes new players and has an added enticement for aspiring sled hockey enthusiasts.
"You get to go out on the ice and take out your aggression," said retired Sgt. Chris Leverkuhn, an amputee who was injured in Iraq. "I love the sport. It's a great way to keep busy and experience something new."
(Elaine Wilson works at the Fort Sam Houston Public Information Office.)
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Canines Offer Healing Therapy to Wounded Warriors
By Jen Rodriguez
Special to American Forces Press Service
July 6, 2007 – Sweetheart, Jackson and Ellie Mae, three pooches, are helping to change the lives of wounded warriors at Brooke Army Medical Center here. The mixed beagle, German shepherd and Lhasa Apso are therapy dogs trained to console soldiers, family members and sometimes medical staff with reassuring hugs and occasionally dog kisses.
"There's a bond between humans and animals," explained dog trainer Charlie Brugnola, of Silver Lakes, Calif. "Pets help us to deal with stress and put us in a mood that is beneficial to us."
Brugnola and his wife, Sally, brought the dogs to the hospital during June as part of the Delta Society of San Antonio Chapter Therapy Dog Program at the medical center.
"In the eyes of the wounded warriors we see a light, a light of determination and tenacity. That light glows when making contact with the eyes of Sweetheart," Brugnola said. "She looks deep into their eyes, conveying a message -- a message only she and the soldier truly comprehend. And therein lies the magic, the wonderment and the connection these animals give to humans, the ability to bond and heal in very profound ways beyond human ability."
Sweetheart, a mixed beagle, has a direct connection with soldiers and anyone who meets her. That connection is tied to a near-fatal incident that occurred several years ago.
Left to die in a burning house, Sweetheart was rescued when a witness saw the terribly burned dog sit up and wag her tail. A doctor performed skin grafts and was amazed by the canine's determination. Several people were involved with Sweetheart's recovery.
"Sweetheart is a burn survivor that inspires, motivates and melts hearts," Brugnola said. "Throughout her life, Sweetheart has repaid this obligation by helping other people."
"A number of patients felt a special kinship with Sweetheart, because of her experience of overcoming severe burns," said Chaplain (Col.) Daniel Moll, chief of the Ministry Department at Brooke Army Medical Center. "A friendly nuzzle or lick from a puppy is always a positive experience for our patients here. There's a special connection for those in the burn treatment ward."
To share Sweetheart's survivor skills, the Brugnolas decided to visit the wounded soldiers at BAMC.
"It's phenomenal what takes place here," Sally said. "We are in awe and humbled by the very men and women we strive to serve. These young soldiers and their families are an inspiration to us."
During a three-week visit, Sweetheart and Jackson, a German shepherd, laid next to soldiers during mat workouts at the Center for the Intrepid, a state-of-the-art rehabilitation center here, and Ellie Mae, a Lhasa Apso, rode on the laps of soldiers in wheelchairs, all the while giving kisses.
Also, the dogs wagged a greeting to anyone within petting distance during long strolls through the hallways.
Army Sgt. Joy Nelson, an occupational therapist assistant, knows firsthand about the work of therapy dogs.
"Everyone I saw, I told them about the dogs. When patients talked about the pain, I'd tell them about the dogs. I'd say a dog can't tell you how bad it hurts," Nelson said. "And then the patient's mind would get redirected."
Nelson said one patient with a head injury had not responded as he should have until "he played with the dogs for about five minutes."
"That afternoon, he started talking more," Nelson said. "The next day he was up walking around, called his parents and was discharged from the hospital."
"There's a special connection," Moll said. "Pet therapy brings a sense of home normalcy to patients who are in the healing process.
Brugnola echoed Moll's remarks. "After the patient spent time with the dogs, it triggered that he had a dog and that he needed to take care of it."
"Animals, dogs, have been put on earth for very special reasons," Brugnola added. "We, as humans, are just starting to realize their special purpose."
(Jen Rodriguez works at Brooke Army Medical Center Public Affairs.)
Special to American Forces Press Service
July 6, 2007 – Sweetheart, Jackson and Ellie Mae, three pooches, are helping to change the lives of wounded warriors at Brooke Army Medical Center here. The mixed beagle, German shepherd and Lhasa Apso are therapy dogs trained to console soldiers, family members and sometimes medical staff with reassuring hugs and occasionally dog kisses.
"There's a bond between humans and animals," explained dog trainer Charlie Brugnola, of Silver Lakes, Calif. "Pets help us to deal with stress and put us in a mood that is beneficial to us."
Brugnola and his wife, Sally, brought the dogs to the hospital during June as part of the Delta Society of San Antonio Chapter Therapy Dog Program at the medical center.
"In the eyes of the wounded warriors we see a light, a light of determination and tenacity. That light glows when making contact with the eyes of Sweetheart," Brugnola said. "She looks deep into their eyes, conveying a message -- a message only she and the soldier truly comprehend. And therein lies the magic, the wonderment and the connection these animals give to humans, the ability to bond and heal in very profound ways beyond human ability."
Sweetheart, a mixed beagle, has a direct connection with soldiers and anyone who meets her. That connection is tied to a near-fatal incident that occurred several years ago.
Left to die in a burning house, Sweetheart was rescued when a witness saw the terribly burned dog sit up and wag her tail. A doctor performed skin grafts and was amazed by the canine's determination. Several people were involved with Sweetheart's recovery.
"Sweetheart is a burn survivor that inspires, motivates and melts hearts," Brugnola said. "Throughout her life, Sweetheart has repaid this obligation by helping other people."
"A number of patients felt a special kinship with Sweetheart, because of her experience of overcoming severe burns," said Chaplain (Col.) Daniel Moll, chief of the Ministry Department at Brooke Army Medical Center. "A friendly nuzzle or lick from a puppy is always a positive experience for our patients here. There's a special connection for those in the burn treatment ward."
To share Sweetheart's survivor skills, the Brugnolas decided to visit the wounded soldiers at BAMC.
"It's phenomenal what takes place here," Sally said. "We are in awe and humbled by the very men and women we strive to serve. These young soldiers and their families are an inspiration to us."
During a three-week visit, Sweetheart and Jackson, a German shepherd, laid next to soldiers during mat workouts at the Center for the Intrepid, a state-of-the-art rehabilitation center here, and Ellie Mae, a Lhasa Apso, rode on the laps of soldiers in wheelchairs, all the while giving kisses.
Also, the dogs wagged a greeting to anyone within petting distance during long strolls through the hallways.
Army Sgt. Joy Nelson, an occupational therapist assistant, knows firsthand about the work of therapy dogs.
"Everyone I saw, I told them about the dogs. When patients talked about the pain, I'd tell them about the dogs. I'd say a dog can't tell you how bad it hurts," Nelson said. "And then the patient's mind would get redirected."
Nelson said one patient with a head injury had not responded as he should have until "he played with the dogs for about five minutes."
"That afternoon, he started talking more," Nelson said. "The next day he was up walking around, called his parents and was discharged from the hospital."
"There's a special connection," Moll said. "Pet therapy brings a sense of home normalcy to patients who are in the healing process.
Brugnola echoed Moll's remarks. "After the patient spent time with the dogs, it triggered that he had a dog and that he needed to take care of it."
"Animals, dogs, have been put on earth for very special reasons," Brugnola added. "We, as humans, are just starting to realize their special purpose."
(Jen Rodriguez works at Brooke Army Medical Center Public Affairs.)
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