Skip to content

The Last Confederate’s ‘Last Stand?’

June 17, 2020

Dent Myers is a living anachronism in Kennesaw, Georgia, harkening back to a time when the American Civil War nearly ripped the nation apart. His friends are worried about his well-known ‘Wildman’s’ Shop’s survival in the current Black Lives Matter climate.

Story and Photographs ©Robin Rayne/ZUMA Press/All Rights Reserved

Kennesaw, Georgia – For Dent Myers, the ‘war of northern aggression’ still smolders.

“It’s all history, and people need to learn it and know it. They don’t teach history in the schools anymore, and it shows in what little people know about it now,” said Myers, 89, a former re-enactor and Korean War veteran who has a memory of Civil War facts and strategies that could challenge the most learned history professor.  

He was born to poor sharecropper parents in rural Georgia, and grew up without electricity or running water. “We had a two-hole outhouse, and we thought we were doing pretty good,” he joked. “We grew our own food and bartered for what else we needed. I didn’t even know what money was until I was seven years old,” he said. 

The crusty history buff opened Wildman’s Civil War Surplus shop in Kennesaw, Georgia center in 1971.

“It was a sleepy little town with a lot of history,” Myers recalled. He sports a long and scraggly beard and a fistful of hammered silver rings on his fingers. He might wear a bandana on his head one day, and a beret the next.  While the aura of an aging hippie from the 1960s surrounds him, Myers was a more mainstream-looking engineer for the Lockheed-Martin Aircraft plant in nearby Marietta in those years.

The town of Kennesaw received international attention in 1982 after the city council passed an ordinance that required all citizens to own a gun and ammunition. Kennesaw was nicknamed “Gun Town, U.S.A” and stories were published worldwide about the controversial law. Myers happily agreed to scores of interviews and photos, often brandishing a pair of .45 caliber pistols he typically wore in holsters strapped to his waist, like a gunslinger from the wild West. 

Myers’ story and photos have continued to be shared in newspapers and magazines in dozens of countries and languages in the decades since. “We get people from Germany and Japan and Norway and just about every country coming to see us in the flesh. They read about us and want to see if we’re for real. They want to see that KKK robe in the back. It’s history. Everybody knows Wildman,” he quipped. “Some people call me the village idiot,” he joked.  

His very presence — and disdain for ‘political correctness’ — continues to irritate hundreds of activists and protesters who insist his store and opinions promote bigotry and racism. “There’s a bunch of them who would love to burn this place down,” he said. “They want to run me out of town on a rail. There’s even kids on the school bus who talk about setting fire to this place, but they just learn that from their parents, and most of them aren’t from here. They want to bring their New Jersey ways to Georgia.   But I’m not going anywhere.”

A group of angry demonstrators gathered outside Dent Myers’ Civil War Surplus Shop Friday June 5, 2020 to protest the 89-year-old owner’s obsession with what they see as a racist and bigoted past.
Demonstrators yell to passersby on Main Street, across from Myers’ shop.
A demonstrator holds sign comparing Myers’ shop to the Ku Klux Klan

A yellowed Ku Klux Klan robe from the 1920s and homemade hood that served as a movie prop are displayed near the back of his museum.  Myers won’t admit to being a Ku Klux Klan supporter. “I’m not much of a joiner,” he admitted.  But the man who often referred to young black children as ‘Niglets’ has been called a racist, redneck, and honky bigot, among others. “I just let it slop off me like a proverbial duck, except my feathers don’t get ruffled,” he said.

Dent Myers watches gathering group of demonstrators from the second floor of the brick building that houses his shop.

Now frail with advanced age and blind in one eye, Myers shuffles about his relic and antique shop to chat with first-time visitors. Local ‘regulars’ come and go throughout the day to hang out inside the cluttered shop or sit on benches outside where they share war opinions on current events. Many just come just to pass the time on a lazy afternoon with others who revere the Southern culture and Civil War lore. “Most of them come packin,” Myers said with a wink, as his hand brushed the holstered Colt .45 on his hip.

Local residents either embrace him and his love of history or despise him for his racist views. In 1993, the Kennesaw Historical Society awarded him its first Historic Preservation Award, but in recent months his shop has been the focus of vehement protests urging the city to force him to close. The demonstrations were spurred by Black Lives Matter organizers who believe Myers’ time has come to fade into the sunset. 

Protester hold sign arguing against Myers’ version of history.

His dust-covered shop is filled to the ceiling with photographs, papers, uniforms, maps, t-shirts, bumper stickers, flags and long-forgotten boxes of relics accumulated over nearly fifty years. His treasures once included a small box of cotton balls labelled “Niglet Repellant” he said was intended as a joke. “Somebody told me they won’t pick cotton because they’ve gone upper-class now,” he explained. 

His shop also displayed a collection of CDs with titles including “Coon Town, “The South’s Gonna Rise Again,” and Segregation Wagon” among the song titles — content that causes even some of Myers’ more ardent supporters to cringe.

“That’s exactly why Myers and his shop needs go,” said one town resident who is pushing to get Myers to close his business. Calling Myers an outdated, racist relic who needs to ‘go away,’ nearly 100 Black Lives Matter demonstrators recently gathered outside his shop to vent their anger.

 “He’s an embarrassment to this town,” explained Parker Quigley, one of the protesters. “His store gives the impression that he keeps racism alive.”

Another protester wants Myers to be humiliated. “He has cognitive dissonance and he won’t pay attention to what’s going on around the country,” said Jamie Forsyth, 17, who lives in nearby Acworth.

“Just get rid of it all.  I don’t give a f*** about that history. It wouldn’t bother me to see the place burn to the ground.”

“In this politically correct time, people don’t want to have anything to do with the Civil War, and especially the Confederacy,” notes Joe Bozeman, 75, who’s known Myers for more than 50 years. “There’s a hatred for what they call the Old South, and they would like to forget the Civil War ever happened,” said Bozeman, whose great-grandfather fought in the war. “They’re under-educated, and they don’t know this country’s history.”

Liberal college students from nearby Kennesaw State University think it’s cool to protest, he said. “There’s some folks who would just as soon whitewash all the history out of Kennesaw and make it look like some little town that looks like everywhere else,” he said.

 Myers and his friends take the criticism in stride and view the protests with a sense of humor. “Most of them haven’t even been inside this place,” Myers said. “They’re only repeating what they’ve been told to say. They should ask for their tuition money back because college didn’t do any of them much good. They didn’t learn much.”

Myers said he could easily enlist the aid of dozens of friends, many of them military veterans who would welcome the opportunity to stand guard outside his shop when the protesters show up. “But I don’t want to do that because that’s just what the protesters want. They want to engage, and it would get ugly real fast. Nobody needs that,” he said.

Dent Myers watches gathering group of demonstrators from the second floor of the brick building that houses his shop.

Myers owns the two-story building that houses his shop, which annoys several city officials. He’s well-aware of the mounting pressure for him to leave town. He knows the current political climate might create his last stand for the shop’s survival.

“But I pay my taxes and I don’t do anything illegal. I’ve done more to bring tourism to Kennesaw than anything they’ll ever do,” Myers said. 

A Helping Hand for Students Who Learn Differently

February 23, 2019

Story and photographs ©2019 Robin Rayne/ZUMA 

Marietta, Georgia —  Mindy Elkan knew her speech therapy clients with learning challenges and developmental disabilities needed more than what public school special education programs provide.

“The public schools can only do so much,” the Marietta speech therapist said, remembering the time ten years ago when she decided to start a small private school herself. “I always wanted to open a school for children with communication disorders.”

Elkan, 62, opened the MDE school in 2009, named to honor her late husband Mark David Elkan.  “I was inspired to keep his legacy and his memory alive by establishing a school for children who learn differently. He loved children and was always there to help at the clinic,” she said. Mark Elkan, who died in 2009, often volunteered at hippotherapy sessions at area stables as well as community walks to raise public awareness of autism, she said. “His heart was always open to any individuals who needed help — especially children.”

Elkan’s school started small, with classes held in her Marietta speech therapy office.

“We began with three students and one part-time teacher. Our goal was to help families who were home-schooling their children with learning disabilities. It was like home-school away from home,” she said. The school added four more students the next year, with 17 students and a third teacher added in the school’s third year, she said.

Ten years later, MDE School has 49 students and a full-time staff of 19, tucked into quiet office park in east Cobb County. The school prides itself on providing a loving and nurturing environment.

“It’s what Mark would have expected,” Elkan said.


Tuition is $21,000 per school year, but financial assistance vouchers and scholarships are available from the state and county, Elkan said.

The students’ challenges range from autism, Down syndrome, cerebral palsy and other developmental disabilities to language and communication disorders. Several students are non-verbal, and a few experience seizure disorders. Student works at their own pace. Teachers work closely with parents to create individualized educational plans designed to meet each child’s exact needs. The school is accredited from kindergarten through eighth grade. Life skills and prevocational training are offered for high school-age students.

Elkan received her master’s degree in speech and language pathology from Hofstra University in New York before relocating to Georgia in 1990.

With a ration of four students to every teacher, the school provides smaller classrooms, flexibility and one-on-one instruction. Teachers recognize the value of enrichment programs and coordinate with the community to bring yoga and dance sessions into their schedules, as well as golf, cooking and Lego clubs. Students are also integrated into the community with regular visits to restaurants and a variety of local businesses.

While the school focuses on academics, art, music, life and social skills and prevocational training are considered equally important parts of the school day, she said.


“Students are taught basic life skills – simple things like brushing their teeth, setting a table, making coffee and doing their laundry to ordering food at restaurants and interacting with people.

“Social skills are very important,” Elkan stressed. “We are preparing them for life.”

Anita Newby’s son John Michael, 16, is in his fifth year at the school. “He had a very difficult time in the public schools because he has complicated language and processing problems and needed a very focused type of instruction.

“John Michael didn’t speak until he was eight years old,” she said.    “It’s still difficult to understand him sometimes, but the tiny size of the classes and one-on-one time with his teacher helps him a lot. The classes are customized to provide what each child needs. It means so much t to have your child happy and learning in school,” she said.

Kick-off Time at Atlanta’s Super Fest

February 7, 2019

Story and Photographs by Robin Rayne

They came to pass, punt, tackle and cheer on Super Bowl weekend, with passion and determination worthy of any NFL team.

Less than a mile from Atlanta’s Mercedes-Benz Stadium where the actual 2019 Super Bowl game would unfold before millions, this inclusive football and cheerleading clinic known as Super Fest was underway for more than 120 children and young adults with developmental and other physical disabilities. 

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is rn4_9050.jpg
A free-spirited young cheerleader practices her jump before the day’s ‘game.’

Cheerleaders from both the New England Patriots and Los Angeles Rams teams were on hand to greet, teach and encourage all who came to the Georgia State University football practice field. They were joined by volunteer coaches, athletes, and alumni from the Atlanta Falcons, local universities and the National Football League.

“Our goal was to provide a realistic and enjoyable experience to individuals with disabilities and their peers, enabling everyone to participate in the excitement of the Big Game weekend,” explained Jessamy Tang, Super Fest’s organizer.

Tang, a former sports media executive for ESPN, and husband John Blascovich, a business executive, created the Mathew Foundation as a non-profit organization to improve lives for persons with Down Syndrome.  They named it after their ten-year-old son Matthew, who has Down Syndrome. 

“It is a private charitable foundation that strives to make a meaningful impact for persons with Down Syndrome, one program at a time,” Tang said. “We believe in collaboration within the national and global Down syndrome community as well as externally with both governmental and non-governmental organizations,” she said.

Tang, her husband, and foundation directors strongly believe the rights of children with disabilities to all forms of physical activity and sport are often not being realized, although they are enshrined in numerous legally-binding documents and are well-known components of healthy child development, health maintenance and chronic disease prevention.

Tang, 51, worked in sports radio media at ESPN for many years and cultivated numerous connections to celebrities, players and coaches in the pro-sports world. The Matthew Foundation organized Super Fest as an annual event to be hosted in the same city and week as each year’s Super Bowl, and is open to all youth and young adults.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is rn4_8785.jpg
Bill Ramsey, an NFL alumni, helps a young boy run for a touchdown
This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is rn4_8083.jpg
Shaelyn Lott, 9, Cumming, GA, gets coaching from New England Patriots cheerleaders
This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is rn4_8576.jpg
A young football fan tells a volunteer from Georgia State University to “Go out for a long one”
This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is rn4_8925.jpg
Jennifer Jackson pushes her 12-year-old son Aidan in his wheelchair through a scrimmage play.

Start writing or type / to choose a block

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is rn4_7980.jpg
Shaelyn Lott, 9, Cumming, GA, gets coaching from New England Patriots cheerleaders
This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is rr7_1664.jpg
This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is rr7_1918.jpg

Happy Hearts and Tears of Joy For All at This Pageant

October 27, 2018

Special Needs Pageant

Dressed in formal gowns, Contestants lined up on stage as they waited their turn to greet the judges.

Story and Photographs ©2018 Robin Rayne/ZUMA  Marietta Daily Journal

Marietta, Georgia — With smiles and confidence filling the stage, thirty excited and happy contestants strolled, glided and twirled before a table of pageant judges in the Equestrian Center at Jim Miller Park on a cool September night, hoping to be named Pageant Queen or King.

It was the North Georgia State Fair’s first Special Needs Pageant, and every contestant won hearts and brought on the tears from the enthusiastic crowd and judges alike. 

“This was our first pageant for the special needs community and we hope it will be an annual event at the fair,” explained Renee Fielden, a retired Coca-Cola executive who directed the event. It was produced by the Miss Cobb County Pageant organizers and was open to all, at no cost.

Special Needs Pageant

Julie Denton, from Kennesaw, Georgia, escorts her son Christian, 9, across the stage after greeting the judges.

“All credit is due to Tod Miller, the Fair Manager. He wanted to do something to highlight the Special Populations Day at the fair,” Fielden said.  Miller reached out to Terry Chandler on the Fair Board and Gene Phillips, President of the Miss Cobb County Pageant about producing the pageant. “I’ve been involved in pageants for many years, and I was honored that they asked me to be the director,” she added.


Contestants were judged on attire and personality.  The winners in each division were awarded a specially designed Fair Jacket with the King & Queen of the Fair logo, along with four VIP passes to the fair, she said. Everyone who participated received a pageant t-shirt. 

“There are not many special needs pageants in the area, so this gives everyone an opportunity to participate and showcase their wonderful personalities,” Fielden said.

Special Needs Pageant

Mandy Hoopingarner, 36, from Powder Springs, Georgia, waits for her cue to dance before the judging panel.

Special Needs Pageant

Gracie Randall, 6, from Kennesaw, Georgia, blows kisses to the judges

Special Needs Pageant

A young girl with limited vision is guided by her mother to a mark on the stage where she met the judges

Special Needs Pageant

Al Cosby, from Dallas, Georgia,, kisses his 5-year-old daughter Chesney before he carries her onstage.

Special Needs Pageant

Contestants in the Junior Queen category assemble on stage as winners are announced.


Special Needs Pageant

The contestants wave to the enthusiastic crowd as they wait for results.

A place for homeless veterans to lay their heads

June 25, 2018

Zion Keepers help homeless disabled veterans stay off the streets


Photo and Story © Robin Rayne/ZUMA

MARIETTA —Veronica Sigalo knew she had to do something to help the homeless population, even if it was for just a few individuals at a time.

   As a nurse at the DeKalb County jail, she watched as inmates were brought to the jail, released — yet returned the very next day.

 “I ask them, ‘Why you come back?’ They say they need a place to stay, especially in winter, so they do stupid stuff so they can come back and have some food and stay warm,” said Sigalo, 58, who emigrated from Nigeria in 1986 and worked as a licensed practical nurse for several years. 

“Where I come from, going to jail is taboo. Nobody wants to go to jail. I talked about it with my friend who also worked at the jail and we decided to do something. As we got more involved with the homeless we decided to start a non-profit to help — but we had no idea how to do it,” she said. “I remember thinking, ‘If God wants us to do it He will show us the way.’ God led us to see all the people who are homeless and see how others are helping,” she said. “We do it by ourselves, step by step, to start the non-profit.” 

Sigalo launched Zion Keepers in Marietta in 2005. The faith-based non-profit organization provides housing and other supportive services to homeless disabled male veterans, people living with HIV/AIDS, people struggling with mental illness, substance abuse, and other life controlling issues.

Zion Keepers currently provides subsidized housing in a Marietta apartment complex for nine veterans who would otherwise be homeless. Sigalo said she hopes to add temporarily living space in Smyrna that would accommodate another six veterans. 

Though she lives in Stone Mountain and recognized the increasing need throughout the Atlanta metro area, Sigalo said she felt led to open her non-profit office in Marietta. 

“There was a great need in Cobb County for veterans. I always thought I would go into ministry, but this is where I’m called to serve,” she said. 

With funding from federal Department of Housing and Urban Development, Zion Keepers was initially able to provide living space for 18 homeless veterans in six apartments on Franklin Road near Interstate 75. Recent budget cuts caused the non-profit to downsize to three apartments and relocate a few miles west.

 Residents are required to pay $400 each for rent. Zion Keepers pays all utility bills.

 “We didn’t start out just serving disabled veterans, but there were many veterans in the program. Now the Veterans Hospital calls if they have someone in need and they ask if we have room for him,” she said. “If we do, he has a home for as long as he needs it.”   

Zion Keepers help homeless disabled veterans stay off the streets


 Homeless Population Difficult to Count

Veterans become homeless from a complex set of factors such as severe shortages in affordable housing, poverty, high unemployment and mental and physical disabilities, Sigalo said. A large number of displaced and at-risk veterans live with the lingering effects of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and substance abuse, compounded by a lack of family and social support networks. 

While accurate numbers are difficult to assess, Veterans Administration officials estimate that more the 200,000 veterans are homeless on any given night nationally, with more than 400,000 experiencing homelessness over the course of a year. At least one out of every four individuals who is sleeping in a doorway, alley, or cardboard box in cities and rural communities has put on a uniform to serve in the military, and nearly half of all homeless veterans served during the Vietnam era, VA officials note. 

A 2017 report prepared by a coalition of advocates for the homeless lists 403 individuals in Cobb County as either ‘sheltered,’ ‘unsheltered’ or living in ‘transitional housing.’

Advocates define ‘sheltered’ individuals as those who live in domestic violence and emergency shelters, or motels or apartments paid with vouchers by public or private agencies because the person is homeless.

 ‘Unsheltered’ individuals live in places not designed for human habitation, such as abandoned buildings, park benches, under bridges or in illegal makeshift camps in wooded areas.

‘Transitional housing’ provides living support for homeless individuals or families, with the goal to facilitate independent living within 24 months, unless approved by HUD for a longer period.

Official numbers provided to HUD are often incomplete because of different barriers to obtaining comparable data, advocates for the homeless said.

“If someone is living in a hotel, HUD says they’re not homeless,” notes Kaye Cagle, a spokesperson for MUST Ministries in Marietta. School systems might classify a student as homeless if they live in a hotel, she said, noting different definitions of the term.

“We have 200-300 unique individuals that we turn away from our shelters every month,” due to space limitations, notes Chris Fields, executive vice president at MUST Ministries. “For the first time since we began measuring, the largest percent of the total of those are children at 38 per cent.”

The actual homeless population in the county is generally thought to be at least five times higher than the survey count, MUST officials estimate.

As shelters close and rents escalate in urban areas, more and more individuals find themselves pushed out to suburban towns to survive, advocates said.

Sigalo said homelessness has become less of a priority with government officials, “but is still very much with us as a problem. Funding is so much more competitive now, but we hope to get back to where we were when more funding is available,” she said. 

Zion Keepers help homeless disabled veterans stay off the streetsSagalo now works with a staff of three from a small, sparsely-furnished office in Smyrna. “We sometimes work without pay, like a church. I have good children who are grown who help us keep going,” Sigalo said. 

“I wish more people knew we exist,” Sigalo said. “We can’t do anything without funding. We need more volunteers who could help, and we could use a van to get the veterans to appointments.” The veterans typically use public transportation for visits to the VA Medical Center in Decatur, with trips often taking several hours each way, she said. 


Donald Lewis O’Neal,  Fletcher Thompson and Tony Salomone share one of Zion Keepers’  three apartments in Marietta.

 O’Neal, 70, grew up in Atlanta and served as an Army radio communications specialist in the Central Highlands of Vietnam in 1968-69. “I was in the jungle, I was the link between the front lines and the command. I was friends with guys who went out on patrol but didn’t make it back. It’s really hard to talk about it,” he said. O’Neal lived with relatives for many years but eventually found himself on the streets. “Life didn’t go so good,” he said. He connected with Zion Keepers earlier this year.

 Thompson, 69, was an engine technician and tester for the Air Force in the 1960s. “I was a sergeant, stationed in the U.K. along with the Royal Air Force. When I got out I worked for K-Mart as a store manager, but I was an alcoholic,” he said. 

Hospitalized for eight months in 2013, Thompson said he nearly died twice. 

“God let me live but I lost all my things. I went to the VA and told them I was homeless and needed a place to stay. I only had a few dollars in my pocket.” Thompson moved into a Zion Keepers apartment in March.

 Zion Keepers help homeless disabled veterans stay off the streetsSalomone, 62, served three years as an Army communications specialist in Texas and works as a maintenance person for a local assisted living facility. “I had a job in Canton and I had my own place to live, and then the company I worked for went out of business. Things fell apart after that,” he said. 

“I lived in a motel on Highway 41 for a few months and then a friend told me about Miss Veronica. I’ve been here four years,” he said.

He is grateful for what Zion Keepers provide but looks forward to a day when he can live in his own apartment again.

“Once you reach a certain age getting a job is really tough. Getting a place is really tough. This country is not made for the old. I see that every day where I work with people who have the money. If you don’t have the money, it’s tough luck.”

Unwelcome in the Neighborhood

 In October, 2017, Cobb County commissioners agreed to lease its Rose Garden facility on Teasley Drive in East Smyrna to Zion Keepers for an initial five-year term.  

   Sigalo plans to open the facility later this year as a day center, with room for a food bank, counseling services and limited transitional housing for six disabled veterans. Veterans could stay could stay for up to a year as they get their life back together, she said. 

The building was deeded to the county by the Cobb County Healthy Futures Foundation in 2010 and housed a learning center for underperforming elementary students until that business ceased operations in 2016.

Zion Keepers help homeless disabled veterans stay off the streetsZion Keepers will be responsible for all facility repairs, maintenance, upkeep and improvements to the property, as well county-approved insurance coverage, Sigalo said.

But residents in the Rose Garden neighborhood are angered about Sigalo’s plan to move into the currently-vacant building. More than fifty neighborhood residents met with county commissioners in February to voice their intense opposition.

“What happens if they decide to go crazy? They could become violent,” warned Emily Norwood, 22, who served as a boatswain’s mate in the U.S. Navy. She and her veteran husband live with their year-old toddler son Caysen next to the currently-vacant property. “I shouldn’t have to be worried at night that someone from the shelter comes into my house. Bringing in strangers, there’s a higher chance of something happening.”

“It’s nothing against veterans, but the odds of them all being okay are very small. They’re probably great guys, but that’s a lot to throw at a neighborhood,” said Scott Bagwell, 58, who also lives nearby. “We don’t want it. We just don’t know what we’re getting into. It would be hard to fit into this community,” he said.

Bagwell fears veterans’ post-traumatic stress disorder breakdowns could be triggered by sounds of low-flying aircraft from nearby Dobbins Air Force Base. “The unknown is the problem. They could go off their medications. There’s children playing around here. What are they going to do all day? It’s a safety thing and a big potential threat,” Bagwell said. 

‘Fear is the Enemy’

Those comments make Sigalo sad. 

“They are coming from fear,” Sigalo acknowledged. “They don’t want to hear that these veterans served their county. It is like they do not care. Most of the population we see is age 54 and up. These veterans should be at home with their families, especially the aging ones. My heart is in helping these veterans stay off the street. They fought for us and they help make this country what it is,” Sigalo said. “The least we can do is help them when they are down.”

Commissioner Lisa Cupid listened to the residents’ concerns at the February meeting. “This neighborhood has had its fair share of challenges and feels like it has been overlooked,” she said. Cupid’s district includes the Rose Garden neighborhood.

While she supports Zion Keeper’s mission to serve disabled veterans, she conceded that the Rose Garden community was not provided reasonable notice and participation in the leasing decision. “We are asking this visibly vulnerable area to bear the weight of an unmet social issue pertaining to transitional housing of a vulnerable population. It might not have been made clear to everyone exactly what Zion Keepers’ plan included,” Cupid said. 

Cupid said it was not unreasonable for any residential community with a proposed transitional group home of six or more people to have questions or concerns about the impact a group home will have in their community.

“Serving veterans is an honorable and critically needed service,” Cupid said. “I think Zion Keepers does great work. Once the neighborhood sees who they are and who they serve, I think they will be more supportive.”

Cupid said she wants to be fair to both the Rose Garden community and Zion Keepers, and hopes the building can be used in a way that serves both.

Sigalo said she is waiting for the county to complete roof and gutter repairs before opening its doors over the summer months. She plans to offer services to the community including counseling and a food bank initially but will delay adding living space for veterans for the present.  “We need to gain the community’s trust first,” she said.

Chris Hernandez: A Musical State of Mind

June 6, 2018




Chris Hernandez conducts school orchestra in performance of his work, “Ciadudela”

Story and Photographs ©2018 Robin Rayne/ZUMA Press

Chris Hernandez can’t stop the music.

“I always have these tunes playing in my head,” says the 17-year-old musical prodigy, a junior at Kennesaw Mountain High School who made his debut as both composer and conductor at the school’s recent Spring orchestra concert.

Music has been a part of his life since before he was born.

“I hear these tunes that are similar in rhythm, melody, and chromatic structure. They just come to me and I write them down.  That’s how I come up with these compositions,” explained Hernandez, whose original piece “Ciudadela” recently premiered in the school auditorium to a standing ovation from the capacity audience.

The title is Spanish for citadel, he explained. “It represents a state of mind where everything is as expected,” he said. The score was heavily influenced by Latin music his father played for him as a child and was Hernandez’ third musical composition — with a promise of many more to come.

Hernandez lives with younger brothers Richie and Jacob, and parents Ricardo and Sandra in West Cobb County. Chris is a magnet student in the high school’s well-respected instrumental music program.

RN4_7019School Orchestra Director Joel Schroter encourages students before final concert of their school year.


Gentle, soft-spoken and humble, Chris speaks with passion as his graceful hands constantly finger notes on an invisible instrument. It could be a passage from his violin score with the school orchestra, or something on acoustic guitar, viola, piano, clarinet, electric bass, alto saxophone, drums, recorder – even mandolin – that he also plays.  

“I’m willing to try anything out,” he said. He also sings with ‘perfect pitch’ — the rare ability to perfectly produce any given note – without a musical instrument as a reference.

2016 was Joel Schroter’s first year as the school’s orchestra director when he met Hernandez,  an incoming freshman at the time.  From the first weeks of orchestra class, Schroter knew Hernandez had a musical mind that overflowed with a love and passion for music. 

“I could also sense some frustration coming from him — too many musical ideas and not enough musical outlets. When it came to performing on violin, I could tell that he was only frustrated by technical limitations matching the music he was hearing in his head,” Schroter recalled.   

“Over the past three years, Chris matured in his ability and technique, and as he develops, he has also been able to explore new musical ideas,” Schroter said.

“Since Chris is a multi-instrumentalist as well as a digital music arranger and producer, I encouraged him to look into composition as a possible path.   He can sit at a piano or a guitar and score music for various instruments without having to be an expert performer on those instruments,”  Schroter added. The “Ciudadela” composition was one of the results.

RN4_6930If there’s a piano nearby, Chris will find it and begin to play. “The music is in my head,” he explains. 

“I wanted Chris and my students to experience the entire process without much interference from me,” said Schroter, who remained behind the scenes and allowed the creativity and collaboration to be “organic.”

From composition to concert performance, Hernandez was in charge of the composition, class rehearsals, score revisions and concert preparation.  Schroter met with his young composer few times to help guide his focus and give him some rehearsal advice, “But once he stepped on the podium, he was in charge of the process,” he said.  “This guy doesn’t hold back!  And if he is self-conscious, it is very hard to detect.   It reminds me of a child on a playground — having a blast, no hesitations, and just being caught up in the moment, enjoying life. When Chris is conducting on the podium, he just goes for it and it looks like he is having the time of his life,” Schroter said.

“I’ve been an orchestra director for 14 years. Sitting in the back of the class and watching Chris work with the chamber orchestra, seeing him light up when he hears his composition being performed by others, it gave me a sense of joy that I cannot put into words,” Schroter added.

The slender musician often paces when concentrating on a composition idea. He has numerous musical phrases collected on his smartphone and a stash of music manuscripts, ideas and musical themes that may one day find a home as part of a larger piece.  

His internal music calms him, even during his academic studies. “Whenever there’s a test, the themes help me stay focused and gets me into a certain zone,” he said.

Ricardo Hernandez smiled with his son’s admission. He sang to his son every night for months – before his birth.

“When my wife was pregnant, I would come home very late from work. I didn’t get home until after midnight,” the senior Hernandez recalled. He emigrated with his brother to the U.S. from Mexico City in 1994, and owns an auto mechanic shop in Macon, Georgia.  


Chris plays his guitar as family sings Latin favorites at home.

“From the beginning, I laid my head on Sandy’s belly every night and sang to him. They were songs my dad and my mom used to sing. I come from a family where music was just a way of life,” he said.  

“I knew our son liked music because I could feel him kick when Ricky sang to him,” Sandra joked.

The musical immersion continued as Chris grew to toddler age. Ricardo and Sandy enrolled their son in music classes at a local Gymboree center. “As a two-year-old he loved to play the maracas and wooden rhythm sticks along with the music. I played my guitar for him at night, sometimes I played recordings of classical piano music like Beethoven, Bach, Mozart and Chopin to help him go to sleep,” Ricardo said.

“Chris was a very quiet child.  It was like I didn’t have a child,” Sandy Hernandez remembered.  “He was reading at the third-grade level when he was three years old. Chris spent all his time in his room surrounded by his books, sometimes not even wanting to eat dinner.  I was worried he may be shy and might get bullied so we tried baseball and soccer for him. That didn’t work, except for swimming — he loves to swim at the YMCA,” she said.

Sandra next found a piano teacher for her son. “He loved it and took lessons for six years,” she said. His piano instruction became the basis for all his other instruments and composing skills. “Every teacher he’s had said Chris has a special gift,” she said.

Chris Hernandez has fond memories of playing duets with his father. “My dad would play guitar and I would play piano,” he said. “The thing I admire about my dad the most is that he can blend in with any situation. He is a jack of all trades.”

When Hernandez turned eight, he wanted to play guitar like his father. “He showed me basic chords, and at first I didn’t really like it because of how hard it seemed. But I learned a lot from watching YouTube tutorials. It is very similar to piano, and once I figured that out I could play okay after a few months,” he said.  

As Hernandez entered his middle school’s music program, Sandra Hernandez purchased a saxophone and violin for him.  “Mom found them on Craig’s list. She knew I would make a connection to them somehow, “Chris recalled.

He studied both instruments and was soon exploring tunes far beyond the required repertoire. “I would listen to recordings and analyze the chord structure of songs. I picked out the notes. It wasn’t that difficult,” he said.

By high school, Sandy her husband knew their son needed more. “We went into our savings to buy a better violin. I knew music was so important to Chris and it would become his life, so we did everything would could to support him,” she said.

His fellow students universally describe him as energetic, immensely talented and passionate. “Chris has these rhythms and these notes that he just plays, they come out of him like magic,” one fellow student said.


 Ricardo Hernandez  listens as his son Chris practices passages his guitar in his bedroom.

As Hernandez approaches his senior year in high school, his command of the guitar, violin and his singing voice is well evident. He leads the family as they happily sing Latin favorites together at home.

Once his high school days are behind him in 2019, Hernandez has his eyes on Berklee College of Music in Boston, where he plans to study musical performance and composition.


Chris with supportive parents Sandra and Ricardo Hernandez.

He is undaunted by the school’s nearly $60,000 per year tuition and fees. “With the power of a scholarship and hard work, anything is possible. I know I can do it,” he said.  

He is torn between performance and composition. “Therein lies the rub,” he admitted. “The composing part of it is bringing something to life. It may have been influenced by others, but it’s coming from you, you’re the primary creator of it. With performance, you’re playing what someone else has created. Music is always subjective, and you’re putting your interpretation to it,” he said.  Though Hernandez loves to compose, his heart leans more toward performance.

“If I had to choose one, I would be playing with the Boston Philharmonic,” Hernandez said.  His family plans to have front row seats when that day comes, and perhaps Joel Schroter as well.

Changing Perceptions of Disability, One Latte at a Time

April 10, 2018

Kennesaw Georgia’s New Independent Grounds Cafe


Independent Grounds Cafe Champions People with Special Needs

Story and Photographs by Robin Rayne/ZUMA Press

©2018 All Rights Reserved

Kennesaw, GA — Gretchen Fuchs greeted her customer at the Independent Grounds Cafe with an engaging smile that lit up the room.

“Welcome! How may I serve you?” she asked.As the petite barista steamed the milk for her customer’s order, owner Lorna Heid leaned against a gleaming espresso machine and watched with pride, convinced her café can change the way people view those with developmental disabilities — one latte at a time. The 48-year-old single Kennesaw mom employs a mix of baristas and cashiers, several of whom are, in her words, “differently-abled” because of intellectual or developmental challenges. A few employees experience autism. Several more have Down syndrome, cerebral palsy or other challenges. Heid also hired a few staffers without a disability.
Independent Grounds Cafe Champions People with Special Needs

“We all have something, don’t we? We’re all special in our own way,” Heid said, her eyes twinkling.

She calls it the ‘coffee shop with heart’ and wants to help customers better understand the world of those living with special needs, as well as provide rewarding and fun jobs for her staff.

Heid’s 17-year-old daughter, Emma, is one of the café’s servers. She has a developmental disability and was the inspiration behind the café venture.

Independent Grounds Cafe Champions People with Special Needs

Emma Heid chats with a customer at the cafe

“I wanted to create a place where Emma can work and love it,” she said. Her daughter, now a sophomore at Kennesaw Mountain High School, contracted meningitis as a baby that caused brain damage and developmental delays, challenges she has worked to overcome. 

“As a parent you spend years dreaming about what your child can accomplish, but as a parent of a special needs child you often find yourself tempering those dreams. I wanted to show the community what Emma and all her peers can truly accomplish.” 

Heid briefly considered purchasing a fast food franchise so her daughter would always have a place to work, but was discouraged by the required investment and previous business experience.“About the same time, I saw a video about this woman who has two children with Down syndrome in North Carolina. She opened a coffee shop and hired servers with disabilities. I thought that was something I could do,” she said. Heid said she knew she would have support from the special needs community, especially here in Georgia. 

“Emma’s been in gymnastics since she was two years old and doing the Special Olympics. I knew the girls and young women she did gymnastics with would make great employees. I knew some of her fellow students at Kennesaw Mountain High School would make great employees. Their personalities would shine in a place like this,” she said.

Heid said her biggest problem was navigating the licensing requirements to open her business.  “A lot of hoops to jump though,” she said.

She remembered an older house in Kennesaw’s Legacy Park that had once been an ice cream shop.“Emma had her second birthday party here. It had been vacant for nearly four years when Emma and I stopped to see it. We visited just as a maintenance fellow was finishing up some work. I said, ‘I want this place,’” she said.

Heid left her insurance defense paralegal career in December. She leased the house off Jiles Road, completed her business plan, secured the state license, hired the café’s employees and learned everything she could about the art of making coffee. The café opened in early March.


 “I had to do a lot of research about the best espresso machines. They are very complicated and expensive, but I wanted it to be an authentic coffee experience for our customers. I didn’t want my employees to just press a button and a drink comes out. I told them ‘this is a real coffee shop and you are doing a real job. We are training you to have real skills.’ They have to know how many shots of espresso go into each drink, what flavors to add, the difference between a latte and a cappuccino, all these things,” Heid said. 

Independent Grounds Cafe Champions People with Special Needs

Gretchen Fuchs at the barista bar

The café’s machine is identical to those used throughout Europe, she said. The coffee beans come from a supplier in Smyrna who imports unroasted beans from several countries. 

“He knows his beans are ‘fair trade’ and of excellent quality,” she said. “He blends them and roasts them at his shop. The machine we have steams the milk perfectly and pulls the espresso shots. It allows our staff to make the drinks on their own, be creative, and serve a really good coffee.”

The menu consists of a variety of coffee and espresso-based drinks as well as pastries. The café provides free Wi-Fi and sells t-shirts and travel mugs as well as its own private blend of coffee beans. There are a variety of smaller rooms available for quiet conversations, study, work or just a place to read a book while enjoying their brew, with the subtle aroma of freshly ground coffee beans filling the house. The staff is cheerful and playful, clearly loving their jobs, their coworkers and their customers.

“Every employee brings something fresh to the team,” Heid said. “I have each employee try all the different jobs to see what they like best.”

Independent Grounds Cafe Champions People with Special Needs

When Meaghan Brox, 30, applied for a job, she hoped for work that was more challenging than wiping tables at a fast food franchise. “I didn’t like my job anymore. It didn’t challenge me. I worked there for 11 years,” Brox said.

Heid said she knew Brox was capable of more. 

 “She loves her job here. She’s so excited that she gets to greet her customers make drinks for them, and she keeps track of every drink she creates,” Heid said. 

Parents of special needs children must constantly make adjustments to their lives, Heid said. 

“When Emma was a baby, I went to mom groups, taking her to physical therapy, occupational therapy and speech therapy. We weren’t just doing play dates, we had doctor appointments and specialists.”

Once her daughter was in kindergarten, Heid realized life would take a path far different from what she envisioned. Independent Grounds Cafe Champions People with Special Needs

Lorna Heid, center, with a few of her valued staff

“As inclusive as the schools try to be, there’s only so much they can do,” she said. “As they get older you think about what they are going to do in life — how will they perform into society, will they be independent, or will they live with me?” Heid said. “Emma loves little kids and they love her. She’s like a ‘little kid whisperer.’ I always thought she could work in a day care place. But the day care would need to accept Emma’s limitations, and understand there were things she could do but there were things she couldn’t do or recognize.”“This café is a place where Emma can really take it and make it her own. The beans are even named after her — a private label from our supplier called ‘Emma’s Brew.’Independent Grounds Cafe Champions People with Special Needs

Meaghan Brox and Gretchen Fuchs prepare customers’ coffee orders

Independent Grounds Cafe Champions People with Special Needs


 Customer Nicolette Elommal lives near the café.  “As the mother of a special needs child, this café gives me hope,” Elommal said.  “It’s warm and cozy and welcoming, but what I love most is what it represents. My son is on the Autism spectrum and he’s pretty severe, but I’m hopeful for my son’s future.”

Heid is willing to share her café’s business plan with parents of special needs children in other communities so their children will always have a place to work.  “It could serve as a model,” she said.Heid’s younger daughter Katelyn, soon-to-be 15, looks forward to working at the café with her sister over the summer. “Siblings of special needs children sacrifice a lot, just as the parents do. I wanted to do this for both my children as well as for myself,” Heid said. “I wanted to show them that woman can do just about anything.”

Heid hopes other business owners will consider hiring more employees with disabilities. 

“It won’t affect their business negatively. It will only enhance their business, maybe even give them an edge,” allowing people with disabilities to become part of their communities, she said. As her business grows, Heid said the café’s hours will likely expand into evening hours. “I’ll need to hire more staff. I’ll need college students too. We’re all about inclusivity here, and we’re all a team.”

Independent Grounds Cafe Champions People with Special Needs

Emma Heid proudly displays the coffee blend named after her, ‘Emma’s Brew.’

Erika’s Long Road Back

March 18, 2018

Erika's Journey Home: The slow road to recovery from a brain tumor

Story and Photos © Robin Rayne Nelson/ZUMA Press

Erika Jones’ hand trembled as she gripped the pen to write a “K” on a sheet of paper taped to a table. Her attempt was slow but determined. “You’re doing it, Erika, keep doing it! Trace that K!” therapist Celeste Whirt cheered.

 Jones was relearning how to write her name at the age of 32. It was a small step on a long road to recovery from surgery that removed a brain tumor five months ago. 

 Jones was discharged from Shepherd Spinal Center in Atlanta in late January after several months of intensive physical therapy. She returned to live with her parents in Marietta and is now totally dependent on them for her care.

Joyce and John Jones continue to adjust to their new reality of caring for their brain-injured daughter. They are retired and living on fixed Social Security Disability incomes. Both have serious health issues of their own.

Erika's Journey Home: The slow road to recovery from a brain tumor

Joyce Jones, 64,  was an executive recruiter before a colon cancer diagnosis forced to leave her career in 2004. John Jones, 77, is a former bus driver for Cobb County Schools and former business owner.  They relocated to Georgia from Michigan in 1994 and attend Transfiguration Catholic Church in Marietta.  Erika Jones is a 2003 graduate of Lassiter high School and attended Middle Georgia College and Chattahoochee Technical College.  Prior to her illness she worked in marketing and media production in Norcross. She is the Jones’ only child together.

Erika's Journey Home: The slow road to recovery from a brain tumor

“Our lives were turned upside down,” Joyce Jones reflected.  “But I am committed to caring for my baby until the day I die.” “Her doctors called it a meningioma,” she explained.  “It was on the front part of her brain and around her spinal cord. They said it had been growing for at least ten years and had actually squeezed and moved her brain over. They were surprised she didn’t have headaches and vision problems earlier.”

The surgery left Erika Jones paralyzed on her right side and unable to walk. “Her speech is mostly babbling. She’s unintelligible except for a few words. She can say ‘Hi’ and ‘I love you,’ and she can nod her head to communicate ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ Her comprehension of what we’re saying wasn’t very good a few months ago, but she understands more now,” Joyce Jones said.

Erika's Journey Home: The slow road to recovery from a brain tumorErika Jones smiles and bops her head when she hears her favorite music. That gives her mother hope in the midst of uncertainty and fatigue from caring for both daughter and husband.  Their former sunshine-drenched dining room in now a bedroom for their daughter. It is large enough to accommodate a hospital-style bed and an electric lift that helps Joyce Jones move her daughter from bed to wheelchair and back several times a day. 

A large television was installed near her bed so Erika Jones has something to watch during the day. Speech and physical therapists visit several times each week to work with Erika Jones, who spends most of her day in her wheelchair or a recliner chair in the family room. 

Erika's Journey Home: The slow road to recovery from a brain tumorShe’s always strapped into her chairs to keep her from falling if she dozes off, “ Joyce Jones explained. She sponge-bathes her daughter, feeds her and routinely changes her diapers. She spends hours every day doing range-of-motion and other strengthening exercises Erika Jones’ therapists showed her. She is on constant lookout for bedsores and skin irritations. 

“I sleep at night on the sofa nearby so I can hear Erika if she moves, but I don’t sleep much,” she said. “Our bedrooms are actually on the second floor but it’s impossible to navigate with a wheelchair,” she explained. “John 

sleeps upstairs. He relies on oxygen because of his emphysema and doesn’t have much strength.” 

 “Our dining room was carpeted before Erika came back to live here. A friend bought sheets of thick plywood and screwed them down over the carpet so we would have a hard surface for Erika’s heavy bed, her wheelchair and the lift. That made it much easier to move things around,” she said.

Erika's Journey Home: The slow road to recovery from a brain tumor

A relative purchased a new multiple-position hospital-style bed and had it shipped from California for Erika Jones’ bedroom. Shepherd Spinal Center staff contributed the electric lift. One friend donated a large supply cabinet where Erika’s Jones’ extra diapers and bed pads are stored. Another friend installed colorful curtains in the doorway to provide privacy. A team of neighbors takes turns in supplying meals every few days to the Jones home. “We have such kind and loving neighbors. They’ve been bringing meals ever since this happened so I could just focus on caring for Erika,” Joyce Jones continued. 

“I couldn’t bear the idea of Erika living in a nursing home. She’s our daughter and we will do everything we can to help her get better right here. She wouldn’t get that love in a nursing home,” Joyce Jones said, wiping a tear. Erika Jones has had a number of visitors since her return to her parents’ home, including friends from her AAU basketball team who learned of her situation from a Marietta Daily Journal story in January. “She lights up when she sees her old friends,” she said.

Erika's Journey Home: The slow road to recovery from a brain tumor

Speech and language pathologist Whirt visits Erika Jones several hours each week for therapy that helps her relearn to speak. She guided Erika Jones’ hands to write her name on a recent session, encouraging her to push through the struggle as she helped her express herself verbally.

“She really wants to do things for herself. To Erika, the sounds she makes are words.  Erika has aphasia from injury to the part of the brain that controls speech.  She  knows what she wants to say but the words can’t get out. They are garbled. I’m certain that becomes very frustrating for her,” Whirt said.

“Our brains have this amazing ability to regenerate, especially at Erika’s young age. I work with Erika to help her find the right words. She can continue to improve for many years and nobody really knows how far she can go. 

I think one of the best things to help Erika is more visits from her friends. I’m sure she gets lonely,” Whirt said.

She expressed her concern for Erika’s Jones’ mother as well. “Just being able to leave the house for an hour or two with a friend while someone watches Erika is a big help.” 

Erika's Journey Home: The slow road to recovery from a brain tumorJoyce Jones admitted the constant caring for her daughter has chipped away at her own health.

“I know I’ve lost some weight. My friends are worried. I know I need help to care for her. Even using the Hoyer lift, it hurts my back to move her. We hope to have a home health nurse come several hours a day soon. We still hope to remodel the main floor bathroom, adding a shower that can accommodate her wheelchair. Until then, I’ll keep giving her sponge baths in her room,” Joyce Jones said.

After Erika Jones’ story was published in a local newspaper, readers contributed nearly $13,000 to a GoFundMe account to help with her expenses. Joyce Jones and her husband will use those funds toward a used van, modified to accommodate a wheelchair. 

“John hopes to sell our car and Erika’s car so we have enough for the van,” Joyce Jones said. “Erika’s therapists come to our home for now, but we’ll need to drive her to daily outpatient physical therapy in Decatur a few months when the home visits end. We’ll need to take Erika for doctor visits too.” “I can’t predict the future. Her doctors are very good but they can’t predict how she will do either. We just take it one day at a time,” she said.

Friends set up a GoFundMe site to help the family with Erika’s care expenses.

Erika's Journey Home: The slow road to recovery from a brain tumor


‘ Our lives turned upside down’ as brain tumor emerges in a young woman

February 26, 2018

Brain tumor turns family's lives 'upside down'Joyce Jones give kiss of encouragement to daughter Erika before a physical therapy session.

Story and Photographs © Robin Rayne Nelson/ZUMA Press All Rights Reserved

Tears welled in Joyce Jones’ eyes as she watched Shepherd Spinal Center therapists help her daughter Erika Jones stand for the first time in months.

“This is a milestone,” Joyce Jones said, struggling to keep her emotions at bay. 

Her daughter was recovering from surgery four months earlier to remove a massive tumor that left her with brain damage, paralyzed on her right side and unable to walk or speak more than a few words.

“Our lives turned upside down this past October. Erika is my only child. She’s 32 and was in perfect health — or so we thought,” said Joyce Jones, who lives near Lassiter High School with her husband John Jones.

Their daughter was on the way home from work when the seizure occurred. She managed to drive to a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot before slumping over on the wheel. A customer saw her and called 911, she said.

Paramedics broke into her car and rushed the 2003 Lassiter High School graduate to Northside Hospital where tests revealed a massive brain tumor that was nearly the size of a softball.

“Her doctors called it a meningioma. It was on the front part of her brain and around her spinal cord. They said it had been growing for at least ten years and had actually squeezed and moved her brain over. They were surprised she didn’t have headaches and vision problems earlier,” Joyce Jones explained.

“It took the surgical team ten hours to remove it,” she said. “Swelling on her brain forced the surgeons to do a second operation the next day. She had five more in the weeks after that. Now she has a shunt in her brain for the excess fluids, a G-tube in her abdomen to help with feeding and a tracheostomy so she can breathe. “

Erika lived with a roommate for several years but returned home last year while she looked for a place of her own. “She was just about to move into an apartment and live on her own when this all happened,” Joyce Jones explained.

“She had her new furniture purchased. It was going to be that next weekend. But that’s all changed now.”

Erika Jones was transferred to Shepherd Spinal Center in November. She remainsparalyzed on her right side and is unable to walk. Though she has significant cognitive deficits, she manages to say a few words. “She can say ‘Hi’ and ‘God’ and ‘I love you,’ and she still smiles. The Erika I knew is coming back,” her mother said. “I can see that feistiness. She is a fighter.”

Brain tumor turns family's lives 'upside down'

Erika Jones has physical, occupational and speech therapy five hours a day, six days a week. She wears a foam helmet to protect her head and awaits another operation in a few weeks to replace bone in an exposed area on her skull.

Her mother spends hours every afternoon at her daughter’s hospital bedside before returning to her family’s Marietta home. On this day, she had good news to share with her husband John Jones, retired bus driver for Cobb County schools whom students and friends called “JJ.” “I knew this was not going to be a walk in the park,” Joyce Jones continued. “But thinking back to when Erika was being wheeled into the operating room, she wasn’t fearful.

She never cried. She said she knew it was all in God’s hands and he would lead the surgeons. Today the therapists got her in a standing frame and raised it up so she could stand up and lean on the tray. I know it was hard for her but she’s doing it.”

Brain tumor turns family's lives 'upside down'

That her daughter was awake and smiling was in itself an answer to prayer, she said. “Before they removed the tumor doctors said she could have a stroke during the surgery. I remember praying, ‘Dear God, please let her wake up and be able to do some things. I don’t want her in a nursing home.”

Joyce Jones and her husband are hopeful their daughter can be released from Shepherd Center at the end of January and return home.

What comes next has them both intensely anxious.

“Her doctors said recovery will be a slow process and they said I’ll need to be patient. We’ll need to adjust to our ‘new normal,’ but JJ and I really have no idea what that will be like,” she added. “Her doctors can’t say if she will ever walk or drive again. It may take years.”

“Erika’s brain injury was devastating and tragic,” explained Dr. Anna Elmers, M.D., a physical medicine and rehabilitation specialist at Shepherd Center who supervises Erika’s therapy. “She will be dependent and need 24-hour care, seven days a week for the foreseeable future. It will be quite expensive.”

“Erika will need help in all parts of her day, including feeding, bathing and dressing,” according to Ali Harris, Erika’s primary physical therapist at Shepherd Center. “She has what is known as ‘global aphasia.’ She doesn’t always comprehend what people are saying to her and she’s not able to express herself verbally,” she added. She may be able to walk again in time, she added.

The bedrooms in the Jones’ two-story home are on the second level. They hope to convert their first-floor dining room into a bedroom for their daughter, but need plumbing and carpentry help in expanding a first-floor bathroom to accommodate her wheelchair.

“I lay awake at night worrying if Erika will recognize this is her home. We’re going to make this a comfortable place for her. We considered selling and relocating to a single-level house but we didn’t want to leave our friends in this neighborhood.

Many have offered their help in caring for Erika,” Joyce Jones explained. “We will need their help.”

Erika Jones’ health insurance from her job as a music production assistant will cover the costs of a hospital bed and portable hydraulic lift for a while, she said. Jones hopes to arrange for Social Security disability and Medicare coverage in the coming days.

“I’m 64 years old. John is 77 and recovering from back surgery. He’s weak from emphysema and diabetes and he’s on oxygen. Erika weighs 190 pounds and I don’t think we are strong enough to lift her in and out of her bed and wheelchair, even with the lift,” she said.

A skilled care facility is not an option, she emphasized. “Our daughter needs to be home where she can get the love and care she needs. We have a few weeks to get ready before she comes home. A neighbor, a niece and one of Erika’s close friends have volunteered to help care for her.”

The couple worries about finances, as they are on a limited, fixed income. 

“We’ll need money for diapers and pads for Erika and a lot of things Medicare won’t cover. I’m not sure how we’re going to meet those expenses,” Joyce Jones explained. Her daughter will need a wheelchair-accessible van for trips to doctors and physical therapy that will continue in Decatur for the foreseeable future, she explained. Insurance will not provide transportation, and the type of van Erika requires cost at least $30,000, she said.

Brain tumor turns family's lives 'upside down'

“This is a life changing event that nobody planned and they definitely didn’t budget for in life,” explained Nancy Hornsby, a family friend who arranged a Go Fund Me account to help with Erika’s support expenses once she returns home. She hopes to raise at least $70,000. “Erika had a full time job and paid her own bills. Now her parents are trying to make sure her outstanding bills are paid as well as take care of their own obligations. Joyce and JJ are unemployed and living off retirement income,” she said.

“There is a long road ahead for all of us involved with Erika, probably much longer than any of us choose to realize,” Hornsby said.

What may help Erika Jones recover as much as anything costs nothing. “She used to play ball for the AAU, the Amateur Athletic Union,” Joyce Jones recalled. “It would be good if some of the girls she played with could come to visit her once she’s home. I know that would bring a smile to her face and help her heal.”

As another physical therapist worked with Erika on an electrical stimulation cycle designed to restore function to her stiff right leg, Joyce Jones collected her coat and bag. The day’s therapy was nearly done and her daughter would soon be transported back to her hospital room with her mother close behind.

“Erika and I were the best of friends, like partners in crime. She used to call me15 times a day, and there were times I kidded her about that. ‘You just called me an hour ago,’ I remember saying to her,” Joyce Jones recalled.

“But now I wish with all my heart she could pick up the phone and call me.”

Forced to Wear the Yellow Star: A Holocaust Survivor Remembers the Horror

February 26, 2018

Robert Ratonyi, Holocaust Survivor

ROBERT RATONYI, 80, was a 6-year-old boy in Budapest, Hungary in 1944 during World War 2


Story and Photographs ©Robin Rayne Nelson/ZUMA Press All Rights Reserved

Kennesaw, Georgia — Robert Ratonyi can still see the piles of watches and wedding rings at the entrance to the ‘Big Ghetto.’ 

He remembers the fear that gripped him as he watched armed Hungarian soldiers — sympathizers of Nazi Germany — bark orders to hundreds of Jewish women and children around him on a cold October night. 

It was 1944, in war-ravaged Hungary. German troops had invaded the country to continue with their mission to deport – and ultimately exterminate — millions of European Jews. 

Ratonyi, now 80, is one of an ever-dwindling number of Holocaust survivors. He shared his tale of horror and survival with a standing-room-only crowd at Mt. Paran Christian School Tuesday night. Ratonyi was six years old that year. His father had been shipped off to a labor camp two years before. He and his mother had been rousted from their Budapest flat in a “Yellow Star House” for Jewish families at 3 a.m. by local police. They were lined up with hundreds of other Jews and escorted to the entrance of a fenced resettlement community in the town’s old Jewish quarter, he said. 

“One by one, each person was ordered to leave their money and valuables in a pile on the sidewalk as they passed through the narrow gate. I will never forget that,” Ratonyi continued. 

Robert Ratonyi, Holocaust Survivor

He shared how he held tight to his mother’s hand. Once he and his mother passed through the gate, armed Hungarian soldiers pulled them apart and shoved his mother into a line with hundreds of other women. 

“She turned back to me, crying as they led her away. She couldn’t speak. She just cried. The children, we were all crying,” as our mothers were led away, he said. 

His mother was forced to march with thousands of other Jewish women to a labor camp more than 120 miles away, across the border in Austria. Nearly 4 of every 10 women died along the way. Recalling that vivid scene in his mind brought him to the edge of tears. 

“This is not a pleasant thing to talk about. Every time I do I’m transported back to that time,” he said. “It’s not an easy thing to do, but I do it because I have an obligation. When you hear a first-hand account it gives a different perspective from what is often taught in the schools.” 

Ratonyi was born in 1938, “the year of Kristallnacht, the German name for ‘Night of the Broken Glass,’” he said. “It was two days of riots in Vienna and Berlin. More than a hundred Jews were killed, 30,000 Jews deported, 1,000 synagogues destroyed and 30,000 Jewish businesses destroyed,” he told the Mount Paran audience. 

By 1944, most Hungarian Jews knew what was going on with Jews in other countries, he said. They learned of mass numbers of Jews in Germany, Poland, Czechoslovakia and Austria who were stuffed into rail cars and delivered to concentration camps throughout German-occupied countries. 

“They knew what was coming,” he said. 

Every Jew six years and older was required to wear a yellow star-shaped patch on their outer garments, he said. Though his mother dutifully sewed stars on his jacket and hers that marked them as Jews, he was too young to grasp the significance of the symbol. 

“The only thing I knew about being Jewish was that we celebrated Jewish holidays at my grandparents’ place. Neighbors, kids I played with, they celebrated Christmas. That’s how naïve I was,” he said. “People in Budapest hoped the war would end before German troops invaded and occupied Hungary, but those dreams were crushed,” he said. As German troops took control of Budapest, Ratonyi said he “quickly lost his innocence. I learned being Jewish had consequences,” he told the crowd. 

He shared his tale of survival as Allied Forces bombed the town. “There were American bombers by day and British bombers by night,” he recalled. He took shelter in a cellar with his mother during the bombing raids. “I learned the whistling of the bombs and the blasts that followed early on,” he said.

 Ratonyi described how his mother pleaded with a local Protestant pastor to convert him to Christianity. She begged the pastor to provide documents that proved he was not a Jew. 

“But the answer was no. There were strict laws against that,” he said.

He told of his heroes, including his mother’s friend who found him alone and frightened in the ghetto and managed to deliver him to his grandparents. It was a small flat that eventually became a refuge for aunts and cousins as the German occupation continued, he said. 

One relative was able to secure papers that kept them safe for a while. His cousin scoured bombed-out buildings at night for items that could be bartered for food. Ratonyi told of surviving on one small can of soup per day, of bomb-ravaged buildings and blown out windows, of sleeping next to others for warmth in a bitterly cold winter, and how his extended family moved from one flat to another and then another just to stay alive as 1944 turned to 1945. 

He described how hundreds of Jews were rounded up by German soldiers, marched to a place near the Danube River and executed, their bodies falling into the water – and how his cousin saved his family from a similar fate.

“Miklos, my cousin, was very bold. His job was to find anything of value in the ruins that could be exchanged for food. One day he noticed a crumpled piece of cloth in a stairwell. It was an armband, just like the ones used by the Arrow Cross party, the facist militia who were Nazi sympathizers. Miklos stuffed it in his pocket,” Ratonyi said.

Later that day as his cousin return to the ghetto, he came across several dozen Jews held at gunpoint in the courtyard. Ratonyi was among them. 

“There were three members of the Arrow Cross militia holding us, two young men and an older man with guns.  It was a shakedown for anything of value the soldiers could use to barter for food. It was near the end of the war and they were desperate,” he said. “It happened a lot. Those who had nothing to give were usually taken to the bank of the river and shot,” he explained.

“Miklos realized what was happening. He pulled the armband from his pocket and put it on. He walked up to the older soldier and said, ‘These are my Jews.’ The old man looked at him and glanced at the armband. “Very well. You deal with them,’ the old man said as he walked away. My cousin saved our lives that day. He was 14 years old.”

Robert Ratonyi, Holocaust Survivor

 He told of unimaginable horror as German soldiers, “with great efficiency,” dragged 500,000 Jews from their homes in Budapest and surrounding areas, stuffed them into cattle cars and shipped to work camps or death camps.

Many from his extended family did not survive the Nazi’s ‘final solution,’ he said. The day Budapest was liberated by the Red Army in 1945, he said “I was too weak to even watch from the window as the troops entered the area. After we were liberated, we didn’t know for several months if my mother survived the labor camp,” he said. “When they brought her back she had typhus and diphtheria. She was skin and bones. I said, ‘That’s not my mother,’ she looked like a skeleton,” he recalled. His mother eventually recovered.

“A bomb didn’t kill me. I didn’t get sick or die of hunger. But the greatest contributors to my survival were my heroes — my friends, grandparents, cousins and family members.” 

Ratonyi hopes that sharing stories of the Holocaust can avert the danger of history repeating itself.

“It’s important for me to tell my story. There are those who deny the Holocaust, but there’s no point in arguing with them. I don’t know how to deal with them,” he said. He raised the question to the audience: “How could such Nazi atrocities happen in the middle of the 20th century — in an enlightened, educated and civilized Europe?”  

“The answer teaches a valuable moral lesson,” he continued, when 500 million Christians in Europe stood by and said nothing as Nazi Germany’s plan to exterminate millions of Jews proceeded. 

Ratonyi shared Martin Niemöller famous condemnation of those silent bystanders:

‘First they came for the Communists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist. Then they came for the Socialists and Trade Unionists, and I didn’t speak up because I was neither.

“Then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew.

“Then they came for me, and by that time no one was left to speak up for me.” 

The lesson, Ratonyi said, is to never tolerate apathy or indifference to the suffering of others. 

“We should always speak up when we see injustice or prejudice inflicted on other human beings,” he said, concluding with Santayana’s quote: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”