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Wednesday, June 23, 1999
During our visit to the Hopewell Inn, the 333 acre organic
farm and home for
mentally ill residents, Brian and I commented how much healthier
and more
appropriate this place would be for his brother, Jay, who is currently
living in the State Mental Institution in Elgin, Illinois. Jay
has been
"stuck" in this facility for numerous months awaiting
evaluation for a trial
for misdemeanors that he committed almost 2.5 years ago.
On the very same day as our visit to the Hopewell Inn, the
Supreme Court of
United States announced, in a 6-3 decision, that states discriminate
against
mentally ill people when they institutionalize them rather than
provide
community housing and home-based services.
At first I thought the timing was ironic, but I'd rather call
it fate. With
this ruling, maybe it's not too far fetched for us to believe
that places
like Hopewell just someday will replace the warehouse-type institutions
that
now prevail.
While we only spent 18 hours at Hopewell, the visit made a
profound impact
on our perspective about mental health care and our hope for the
future for
those suffering from mental illness and their loved ones.
The residents work the farm, plant and sow the vegetables they
consume, tend
to the animals on the farm and reap the benefits that hard work
provides.
The actual term for the type farming they do is "sustainable
farming",
meaning they eat what they grow, and very little comes from outside
their
farm.
The farm is organic, so it is the most healthful food one can
consume, and
as I mentioned before, the head chef is Culinary Arts trained
master who
headed the facility when it was a bed and breakfast. He answered
my
questions, gave me a tour of his cook book collection (my favorite
reading
material), and explained how he coordinates the menu with Cathy,
the
horticultural therapist to see what will be ripe in the upcoming
week.
One of the gardeners, Amy, snipped some herbs and plucked some
lettuce,
shared a farewell and we sadly we went on our way. Brian already
stated a
desire to go back next summer for a working vacation, while I
was dreaming
about taking a group of people through Hopewell on next year's
cross country
journey.
Once again, Brian perched himself on the seat and fluttered
away toward
Punderson Lake State Park where we would meet with our friend
and neighbor,
Steven James and his 6 year old who had spent the day exploring
Cleveland.
Steven and Laura treated us to dinner at a nice Italian restaurant
where the
waitress delivered to Brian the biggest mound of pasta after we
told her
about the 3100 miles that await him.
We came back to the campsite where we witnessed some sort of
Guinness-book-of -world record-sized ground hog rummaging through
the trash
bin at the campsite across the road. The six year old was unfazed
but I was
a little concerned cause the black bear in Alaska know to open
car doors
and coolers (and I wondered if these rodents had figured out how
to raid an
RV).
Quiet moment of contemplation on grounds at the Hopewell Inn,
a 333 acre organic farm and home for
Road to Hopewell may be rocky, but not for long
Sign for Amish buggy
|
Executive director Gary Long, resident Jenny and Brian
Vacation home for boxer Mike Tyson near Hopewell
|
Having a Whale of a Good Time
Well, luckily, when we all awoke, the only evidence of animal
visitation to
the RV was a set of raccoon footprints that adorned Brian's bicycle
seat.
Maybe the little critter could smell the crumbs of Power Bars
near the bike.
Once again, Bri was off, this time to Cleveland, after a quick
carbo
intensive breakfast, which consisted of a banana, some o.j. and
a couple of
waffles. He eats just about hourly. Mostly snack type foods to
propel him
like pop tarts, fig Newtons and trail mix. The goal is about 8000
calories
a day, although he's not been eating half that many, and he is
really
starting to melt into a rail.
After our own pancake breakfast, Steven and Laura and her newly
acquired
stuffed whale, Humphrey, guided me into downtown Cleveland where
we met up
with Brian at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame where we said good-bye
as
father and daughter headed back to Atlanta. Within moments, Brian
and I met
2 bicyclists travelling cross country on a route similar to ours
and we
invited them to ride with us as Cleveland was the termination
point for
their own "sag wagon". I do hope our paths will cross
again.
Soon, Brian and I were independently on our way out of Cleveland
toward
Sandusky, Ohio. The ride along Lake Erie was lined with beautiful
homes and
flat terrain.
Brian captured some photos in front of a "Whale Wall",
by the artist
Wayland. The mammoth-sized murals of whales and other marine wildlife
adorn
buildings and parking garages in 71 locations throughout the world
and Brian
related his bike journey with the enormity of the whale's size.
As I snaked the RV around the Lake, I noticed a winding and
flat bike path
along the water so I ditched the van and hopped on a bike for
a few miles
and dunked my toes in the cool water for an oh-so-refreshing treat.
My trek
took me by a lovely bakery called Wild Flour and a charming gift
shop called
"Tracey's" where I was rewarded with an Internet connection
off the store,s
fax line. The staff there was so fun and accommodating, I was
tempted to
stick around and chat, but I had the goal of getting to camp before
Brian.
Arriving at camp I felt like a little minnow in a great big
sea! This
600-site facility was the hugest I'd ever encountered, and so
unlike the
State campgrounds we prefer. After cajoling with the check in
guy, I
secured a site with both a tree and a picnic table.
Brian arrived within a few minutes as did the camp host and
hostess, a
retired couple in there late 60's who grilled Brian about his
route and
mileage for the day. When Brian proudly announced he rode 94 miles,
they
teased him by asking about the last 6, which would have made a
"century" - the
term for a 100-mile ride. Avid cyclists, they often ride centuries
and
commended Brian on his choice of routes.
After a peaceful evening, we turned in early for the evening.
|
Our friend and neighbor, |
"Whale Wall", by the artist Wayland. The mammoth-sized murals of whales and other marine wildlife adorn buildings and parking garages in 71 locations throughout the world |
Joan's Commentary
When it rains it pours!
The pop-pop-pop-pop sound of raindrops hitting the roof of
the RV awoke us
early Sunday morning. Brian was slow to crawl from under the covers
as he
savored his last few dry moments and contemplated the wet day
ahead as he
proceeded forward toward Indiana.
After a quick breakfast of quiche and leftover pancakes, he
headed out in
his bright duck-like yellow jacket. His friend Scott Gardner,
now a
resident of Sweden, recently emailed this message " I've
learned here as I
watch 80 year olds out riding in the snow and the rain- There's
no so such
thing as bad weather, just bad clothes!"
Brian and I met up outside the high school in Hicksville, Ohio
where Brian
encountered a six year-old, fresh off her training wheels riding
her shiny
white bicycle with her father in tow. She encountered some wheel
trouble
near the RV so Brian and her dad attempted unsuccessfully to fix
the
problem. As the guys worked on the bike, a woman holding a camera
and her 6
year-old companion approached looking for directions. We stoked
up the
mapping software and helped her locate her desired destination.
It turns
out she was a photographer for the local newspaper and upon hearing
our
story asked to shoot Brian! Talk about timing.
You remember the old saying "when it rains it pours"
well, both literally
and figuratively it was true today! After we finished speaking
with this
photographer, I called the NAMI volunteer representative in Ft.
Wayne, Ms.
Judy Novak who arranged for the local television stations and
newspaper to
come to our campsite later in the afternoon. Two stations and
one newspaper
from Ft. Wayne came by to cover our journey! When we called to
thank Ms.
Novak for her assistance, we begged her to join us as our publicity
agent!
In addition to notifying the press about our arrival, she phoned
the closest
NAMI chapter and one member came to our campsite to show his appreciation
and encouragement. Dave, a father of four and spouse of a mentally
ill
woman, chatted with us and provided interesting information about
nutrition
and illness. We will not soon forget the incredible strength of
this man,
exhibited as he cared for his entire family.
|
From the top of Peace Monument |
 |
Brian arose early and drove to the bicycle store with John,
the camp host,
to acquire some parts for Brian's primary bicycle as I tried to
organize the
mounds of paperwork that continuously plague us.
By late morning, we were on our way to Put-in-Bay, a nearby
island for a day
of sightseeing. Within 20 minutes, we had been whisked by ferry
to this
semi-quaint island where we toured an unusual 352 ft. tall Peace
Monument.
As we approached the monument I knew only one of us would be climbing
the
stairs to the top -- but luckily the elevator hoisted us up for
a magnificent
view and a brief history lesson by a well-informed guide.
We opted to walk around the island instead of renting a golf
cart or bikes
(oh no bikes, pleaded Brian) thinking our energy level would hold
up. By
late afternoon, we found ourselves dehydrate, drained and ready
to depart
the island. Drudging every so slowly down the 2 mile path toward
the ferry,
we stuck out our thumbs and hitchhiked until one kind couple in
a golf cart
scooped us up and delivered us as close to the dock as possible.
We arrived back at the RV Park to see just that, RV's parked
all around us
and packed in like sardines. To compound matters, it's a Friday
evening,
the most rowdy night at any campsite. It's well 1 oclock a.m.
as I write
this and the squealing, under 10 crowd has just been squelched,
but the 21
year olds are just getting started. Where is the mute button when
you need
it?
Luckily Brian is sound asleep or semi-comatose -- haven't quite
determined
which.
|
|
|
Brian's Ride
Miles Biked: 102.5
Max Speed: 23.8 mph
Average Speed: 15.5 mph
Time elapsed on bike: 06:35
Start/Stop Time: 08:00 am to 04:30 pm
Elevation Climbed 11020 feet (probably incorrect because of low
front moving
in effected altimeter)
Comments: Very very flat. Mostly rural roads in good shape with
low
traffic and nice shoulders. Slight steady breeze from south. This
is the
bread basket of America. Fields of corn, wheat, and soybeans broken
up by
lines of trees along creeks. Frequent farm homesteads along the
way made
the ride interesting. County cross roads were gridded out at 1
mile apart.
At 30 miles, I stopped in Fremont, OH and at the gravesite
and former home
of Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford B. Hayes, past president and former
first lady of
the United States. The grounds are beautiful and tranquil with
large
deciduous trees and paved walking trails. The grounds included
a museum
with tours of the home. The rest of Fremont mirrored the Hayes
grounds
with a downtown main street that seemed to be keeping up with
the times.
Joan's Commentary
Finally, after 2 am the noise outside the RV ceased and I could
fall asleep
but my first reaction in the morning was "get me out of here!"
(Brian, as I
previously stated, was oblivious to the entire ordeal -- guess
that's what a 94
mile ride will do to ya'.)
It wasn't until hours later in the day, while I rode a bicycle
ride along a
soothing stretch of greenery in Independence Dam State Park did
I correlate
the noise, which happened to be outside my head and my strong
desire to
escape the environment with the noises inside of Jay's head and
his urgency
to leave the mental institution where he resides. My momentary
discomfort
was like that brief instant when you taste a tangy lemon -- a
quick swallow and
a blink of the eye and the bitterness is gone. For Jay, and the
millions of
other mentally ill, that sensation lingers, sometimes forever.
I've been thinking a lot about the upcoming July 4th Holiday,
as many
streets we've passed are lined with flags of the United States.
Independence day reminded me of a gentleman I recently met at
a Project
Interconnection event, hosted my Ms. Rosalyn Carter and Mrs. Roy
Barnes the
week before we left on our journey.
The man, Joe Higgins a former resident turned employee at the
Presley Woods
Apartments, one of 3 facilities for the mentally ill funded by
Project
Interconnection (PII). He shared with us a poem he gives to new
residents.
With his permission, I am sharing excerpts of his speech and the
poem with
you:
"I have been employed as a telephone recepionist at Presley
Woods Apartments
since 1997. My employment has been excellent therapy for my mental
illness
and very rewarding. I would like to recite a poem I have composed
which
will, I believe show my gratitude. The title of this poem is:
" Thank You PII"
Thank you PII for our haven and home,
This is the theme of this little poem.
To the stranger in doubt
To the stranger in sorrow,
Thank You PII for a better tomorrow.
Let no depression your
Happiness smother,
We are at PII to help each other.
One big happy family
Is what we are,
Welcome to the stranger from near or far!
I served as President of the Tenant Association for two, one-year
terms. I
enjoyed every minute of it. Finally, my personal goal is complete
financial
self-sufficiency. My employment at Presley Woods has both socially
and
financially brought me close to this goal."
I marvel at his tenacity and his goal setting. For Brian and
I both, today
was a day of minor achievement for Brian completed his first century
(over a
100 mile day) and I arrived to the camp site without getting lost
at all.
|
Helping a 6 year old
Meeting with an ABC affiliate from Ft. Wayne |
Entering Indiana
Meeting with an CBS affiliate from Ft. Wayne |
Brian's Ride
Miles Biked: 70.7
Max Speed: 24.9 mph
Average Speed: 14.4 mph
Time elapsed on bike: 04:55
Start/Stop Time: 09:00 am to 04:00 pm
Elevation Climbed 12550 feet (probably incorrect because of low
fronts
moving through effected altimeter but it felt correct)
Comments: First 30 miles was typical central Ohio, very very flat.
Mostly
rural roads in good shape with low traffic but with very little
shoulders.
Steady breeze from the south. As I was entering Indiana, the terrain
changed to short rolling hills. The wind changed and was from
now the
west. Together with the wind and the hills, an extra effort was
needed to
plow ahead in the westerly direction. The morning rain cleared
up by 10:30
but another rain front hit 20 miles from the campsite but changed
to sunny
conditions in about hour. With the sun, came the heat and humidity.
More fields of corn, wheat, and soybeans broken up by lines
of trees along
creeks. The fields gave way to many fallow fields with some horses
and
sheep. All the dogs encountered up to this point were behind fences
or
chained up. However, at about 65 miles into the ride, a large
German
Shepherd came running out of his/her yard from the 4 o'clock direction.
Fortunately the terrain was flat at this point and I was able
to accelerate
up to 20 to 21 mph for about 0.2 miles necessary for the dog to
give up.
The dog wasn't ever close but I was thankful for the many other
pet owners
up to this point who properly care for their pets.
Monday, June 28th, exactly two weeks into our journey
|
Beautiful scenery in Indiana
Running errands on bicycle |
Big surprise...more cornfields
Interesting chuch selection |
Brian's Ride
Miles Biked: 91.8
Max Speed: 25.8 mph
Average Speed: 14.2 mph
Time elapsed on bike: 06:29
Start/Stop Time: 08:00 am to 05:20 pm (9 hours 20 minutes)
Total Elevation Climbed: 2610 feet
Comments: Short-rolling hills quickly gave way to generally flat
terrain
with a few gentle hills. Traveled mostly on empty county farm
roads and a
few lightly used state roads. The day heated up quickly with high
humidity.
Corn and soybean farms were interspersed with small cities and
some
suburbia. In Elkhart County, Indiana, we found the RV capital
of the world
where several RV manufacturers assembled their wares. Elkhart
County is
also the home of several Mennonite communities. While biking through
Elkhart, I saw several horse and buggies traveling down the street
and
several Mennonite bike riders.
The winds were from the southwest and steady so I had some
fighting to do as
I headed west. Even with this breeze, I had trouble with overheating.
I
was TOO HOT. Was I consuming enough liquids? About 50 ounces every
1 and
hours! At about 60 miles, I stopped fighting the wind and the
road. I
relaxed and slowed my pace and I became more comfortable and cooler.
To
keep my energy level up, I started eating snacks every 5 to 10
miles. And
it didn't matter what the food was. Over the last couple of weeks
I have
grown tired of cereal bars, Powerbars, Clif Bars, apples, and
bananas. I
now resorted to mini-donuts and Poptarts and even this became
tiring. The
door is now wide open for experimenting with every type of snack
food.
To get me through the last few miles, I thought about our wonderful
family
and friends. I also thought about the people with mental illness
and their
struggle. My struggle is only for an instant. Their struggle is
life
long.
Joan's Commentary
The sounds of cycling
We listened as the blare of the train whistle punctuated the
silence we were
so enjoying after a hard day of cycling (and a cool easy day in
the RV). We
knew once again, we were home, at our home-away-from home, the
Wal Mart this
night in LaPorte, IN. Do they have an overnight guest club like
a frequent
flier club? When we first started this journey, we laughed at
the thought
of staying here and to give you a little clue how this journey
has changed
our lives, we actually looked forward to staying here tonight.
We even
passed up the chance to eat at the neighborhood Ponderosa in exchange
for
loading our carbs in the comfort of our cozy little den.
Last night I felt my first twinge of "homesickness"
if you will, as the
miles of cornfields and farmlands provided little distraction
to me and
there were fewer and fewer people to meet. So today, as I sought
entertainment, I scheduled a visit to the factory that made our
RV, the
Gulfstream Conquest. It was quite interesting to see how the bare
chassis
cab is literally transformed by many skilled hands into a mobile
eating and
sleeping machine. I got so entrenched during my personal tour
that I missed
meeting Brian at our designated lunch spot. In other words, the
chow-wagon
did not show and my hungry, hot, and literally poor husband had
to fend for
himself with only $ 2.00 in his pocket. Luckily he had his VISA
card -- you
know it is everywhere you want to go, or don't want to go in Brian's
case.
Fast forward several hours and we are now sitting in the RV
and Brian is
announcing that he needs to eat every 5-10 miles, ok so we have
3000 miles
to go -- so I'll have 499 more times to make up to him for missing
lunch today.
He's also declaring he is sick of snack foods -- cliff bars, power
bars,
mini-donuts and pop-tarts. If any one has a clue how to help this
thin guy,
just let me know, as it's really hard to listen to someone complain
about
eating all of the foods I crave.
So, among the sounds of interest that we've encountered: the
frog that begs
for a mate in a "foghorn" type moan, the whirling and
deafening sounds of
the 17-year Cicada, the rustle of the leaves announcing an imminent
breeze,
the clop-clop clop-clop of the Amish and their horse drawn buggies,
the
sizzling static of power lines. And Brian's personal favorite
- the psst
psst psst declaration of foreign invasion into rubber tubing and
the "OH
*#%" that inevitably follows
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