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Story by Alia Conley, NewsNetNebraska

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Story by Alexis See Tho, NewsNetNebraska With its 1950s decor, the Captain's Chair barbershop is a step back in time. Owner Ryan Amen continues the family tradition of barbering at the downtown Lincoln landmark, which his father started in 1953 after returning from the Navy. Some customers have been getting their hair cut at the shop, 1315 P St., since it first opened.

Brent Hoffman walks with his children. Photo by Christina Severinghaus Story by Dave Madsen, NewsNetNebraska It might be an understatement to say 48-year-old Brent Hoffman has led an interesting life. He is a former video game addict, Air Force nuclear weapons expert, Pentagon 9/11 survivor and a retired 20-year veteran of the Air Force who was offered a job in the George W. Bush White House. He is the holder of two Associate’s degrees, a BA, an MBA, and two other degrees he “almost finished,” including one from a seminary. He was a devoted husband to his wife of twelve years who died of cancer in July 2009, making him a single father of two young children. He is a newspaper columnist and author, a man with a very strong religious faith…and he’s a confirmed Nebraska Cornhusker football fan, yet he’s never lived in the state. So, who is Brent Hoffman? Bill Anderson, now an Iowa State Senator, and Hoffman’s campaign manager during a successful run for City Council of Sioux City in 2005, says about Hoffman, “what you see is what you get. Once you get to know the man Brent Hoffman, you respect him because he’s principled.” Even Jim Rixner, a Democrat who had several headline-making disagreements with Hoffman during their time on the City Council, calls Hoffman “a man of integrity, and a very, very loving father…more attached to raising his kids than many people you’d see.” His unusual career path started while still in high school in the small northwest Iowa town of Anthon. He says he was “lacking direction, discipline and motivation,” so he enlisted in the Iowa Air National Guard. He had not been a particularly good student, but he was accepted at Iowa State University in Ames, Iowa, but quit after just one semester because he was “addicted to video games and watching soap operas.” After leaving ISU, he returned to northwest Iowa, where he owned and operated a rec center/arcade in Correctionville, Iowa. For a short time, he even held the world’s record high score on the video game Asteroids. That’s when he realized that video games were “a colossal waste of time” and he decided to go into active duty with the Air Force. He gelled in that environment, spending time learning conventional weapons, advancing to the study of nuclear weaponry. During Hoffman’s time in the military, he was stationed in several locations in the U.S., and he became a little more serious about college. He earned an Associate’s Degree in Business from the University of Maryland, a second in Liberal Arts from City College of Chicago, followed by a Bachelor of Arts degree from Newman University, a Catholic college in Wichita. Then he earned an MBA from the University of South Dakota in Vermillion, South Dakota. Later, he attended George Washington University on a military fellowship, where he started working toward a Master’s Degree in Administrative Sciences which he changed to Legislative Affairs, but didn’t finish because “he got bored.” He says he also “almost finished a seminary degree, but quit that when I got bored.” But he certainly wasn’t bored with his military education. While stationed at Edwards Air Force Base in southern California, he put his nuclear weapons training to good use when he helped develop the weapons system for the B-2 stealth bomber. His work got him noticed, and he was sent, along with fifty of the Air Force’s best and brightest captains, to work at the Pentagon. While he was stationed in Washington, he met his wife-to-be, Mary Jo, who was then working for U.S. Senator Charles Grassley. Mary Jo and Hoffman attended the same church, dated for two years, and married in 1998. September 11, 2001 According to a 2006 article in the Sioux City Journal, the Hoffmans never considered Washington, D.C., a dangerous place to live, but then came September 11, 2001. Hoffman, stationed at the Pentagon, was in his office that day, watching the TV coverage of the crash of the planes into the World Trade Towers, unaware of what would happen next. His office was just 300 yards from the point of impact of hijacked American Airlines flight 77. In September of this year, reflecting on the tenth anniversary of 9/11, Hoffman wrote: When it hit the building, I recall the feeling of shock and chaos, yet I did nothing heroic or memorable, and remember only the frantic and confused walk outside. Set against a beautiful blue sky, the Pentagon burned as we watched, entranced and horrified, overwhelming grief and an unfocused anger growing within us. The next day, I was surprised to get a call from the White House, offering me a new position as director of the President's Emergency Operations Center. A week later, I recall returning to my office at the Pentagon, a light film of soot covering papers and folders that had once seemed so urgent or essential. I ignored most of it, instead visiting with my co-workers, still trying to make sense of it, grateful to be alive and in the presence of friends. The events of that day, coupled with the D.C. sniper attacks of 2002, convinced the Hoffmans they should return to Iowa to raise their children. It took a while to wrap up their life in Washington, including dealing with an offer of the job in the White House, and in October 2004, they moved to Sioux City where he started a real estate firm and became a licensed contractor. Local politics They had been in Sioux City for a couple of months when, after watching television coverage of some local governmental issues, his wife suggested that he should run for City Council. “Mary Jo turned to me and said ‘You’d be good at it…and the city needs your help,’ so I decided to run.” He credits both his wife and his mother, Kathleen, a long-time Republican stalwart, with getting him elected. His father, Ray, was chairman of the Iowa Republican Party at the time, but Brent Hoffman says it wasn’t party politics that got him elected to the nonpartisan seat on the City Council with the highest vote tally of all candidates. Instead, he was quoted in the local newspaper after the election as saying “clearly my message resonated with the people.” He is fond of saying he’s been a lifelong registered Independent, although he admits he has periodically registered as a Republican so he could vote in primary elections. Former campaign manager Anderson said although Hoffman claims the Independent moniker, “he’s definitely a conservative…but he cares more about the policy and the principle, than he does the party.” Friend and former City Council colleague Aaron Rochester agrees, saying “I see Brent as someone who votes for the man, not the party,” adding with a smile in his voice “but I don’t know when the last time he voted for a Democrat might have been.” Hoffman says he never had other political aspirations, such as running for higher office. In 2009, he wrote “once elected to office and labeled a ‘politician,’ people often make assumptions about political aspirations. I’ve never considered City Council a ‘lower office,’ nor do I have any political ambitions. As to politics, I’m proud to have served my hometown, but I have no special interest in politics other than as an avenue for making a difference.” Not everyone is as willing to dismiss possible political implications. Rixner, the former city councilman says Hoffman “is the consummate politician, as am I. There’s nothing wrong with that, but don’t let him fool you into thinking for a minute that he’s an amateur when it comes to politics. He’s an organizer, embedded in the Republican Party. He has inherited a political apparatus from this father.” But that is not to say that Rixner didn’t appreciate Hoffman’s work on the council. “Sitting next to him on the council, I saw many good things about him,” Rixner said. “He has a dry sense of humor that few people appreciate, and he was the single most well-prepared council member at the table. He was hard working, detail oriented and did his homework.” In 2007, Hoffman did decide to run for mayor of Sioux City, again at the suggestion of his wife. It was during that campaign that his wife received the heartbreaking diagnosis that her cancer was terminal. Hoffman wanted to withdraw from the campaign, but his wife encouraged him to continue. His heart wasn’t in it this time. He lost that election. Faith and family Hoffman’s highest priorities have always been his faith in God and his dedication to his family. Hoffman grew up in a family which said a prayer before meals and regularly went to church, but he says it was his wife who instilled in him a daily sense of giving thanks. “She taught me that when I’m trying to make a decision in my life, I should pray, then listen,” he says. “Mary Jo always made me want to be a better man.” In fact, it was Mary Jo who suggested that the family needed to adopt a motto, a way to face the future after her cancer diagnosis. They had also been struggling with daughter Lydia’s Type 1 diabetes for five years since she was diagnosed at age one. The family had heard something in a movie they were watching, and it became the new catch phrase for them: Keep Moving Forward. It’s a motto that Bill Anderson and Aaron Rochester say has been perfect for Hoffman. “Brent has a naturally pessimistic side to him, but he showed real optimism in dealing with his wife’s illness,” Rochester said. “Right now, my kids are my life” After talking to this soft-spoken man for a short while, you wouldn’t be surprised when Hoffman tells you that “right now, my kids are my life.” Mary Jo’s death in July 2009 was obviously devastating to Hoffman and his family. As he talks about her, he looks out a nearby window. Tears start to well up in his blue eyes. This is the Brent Hoffman many people don’t see. Rochester recounted a time recently when he was visiting with Hoffman. Ten-year-old Silas Hoffman jumped up on his dad’s lap, and as Hoffman talked about how wonderful his son was, the elder Hoffman began to cry. “He now is taking on both parental roles: the leadership of a dedicated father and the comforting touch of a mother figure,” Rochester said. In a blog post about Fathers’ Day, written for the Iowa Republican website in June 2009, just a month before his wife died, Hoffman wrote: The impact of a nurturing father can be felt across generations…we should champion that which matters most…the love and nurturing of our own children. We should encourage our fathers who put family first and challenge our leaders to champion fatherhood. This message is for the father who feels the pressure of competing priorities, who wants to do better, to be better. These days, thanks to his military retirement and a successful real estate business, Hoffman has the financial means to be able to spend time working on a biography about his wife. He calls it a tribute to her, dedicated to his kids. “I’m writing it so one of her friends, or any of the people who knew her might be inspired by reading it,” he says. As he has done for several years, he plans to take his children to California this winter, where he will home school them…another example of his devotion to the kids. A Cornhusker fan? Finally, what’s this about being a Cornhusker football fan? Having never attended the University of Nebraska, and growing up in Iowa, why not cheer for one of the teams in the Hawkeye state? Hoffman smiles, adjusts his red and white Nebraska cap ever so slightly and says he never really thought about the University of Iowa, “it’s hard to get excited about Iowa State…but I like Nebraska’s professionalism…and besides, they win!”

On Sundays, Pastor Isaac Moo, 30, leads a service for 30-40 Karen families in Lincoln. He says about 120 Karen have joined the Karen congregation. Story and photos by Jaclyn Tan Sunlight streams in through tall stained glass windows at First Baptist Church in Lincoln, Neb., on a Sunday afternoon, lighting Pastor Isaac Moo’s 5-foot-5-inch frame as he preaches from the pulpit. “It’s a responsibility for the preacher,” Moo said. “We need to let people know what God wants them to do.” Every Sunday from 12:30-2 p.m., Moo addresses 40-50 Karen refugee men, women and children in a Karen church service. He said about 60 Karen families are members of the church. Moo became a Christian on Oct. 4, 1994, while he was still in his village in Burma. Even though Buddhism is the largest religion in Burma, Moo said most Karen people are Christian -- specifically Baptist. Baptist missionaries reach the Karen It all started with an American Baptist missionary, Adoniram Judson. “I have some story here,” Moo said as he opened a spiral bound college notebook containing his notes from seminary school. He traced his finger across a page filled with curvy Karen script. “This is the first person who received Christ: Ko Tha Pyu. He is a Karen,” he said. “He became the first Christian because of Baptist missionaries from America.” That was in 1828. Through the work of Baptist missionaries and Judson translating the Bible into Burmese, more Karen have become Baptist Christians, Moo said. The Karen is a minority ethnic group in Burma persecuted by the Burmese military government. Karen armed forces fought back in the 1940s, starting a civil war that continues today. “When the Burmese come, (the Karen) just run and escape to the jungle,” Moo said. “When the Burmese go back, (the Karen) just go back to their village.” Many Karen fled to refugee camps, waiting to be resettled in other countries. In 2006, Harry L. Riggs II, lead pastor of First Baptist Church, got connected to one of the first Karen refugee families to be resettled in Lincoln. “These refugees came looking for Baptist homes,” Riggs said, because they were already Baptist Christians. Moo himself arrived in the United States as a refugee in August 2007. Before that he lived for 10 years in refugee camps along the Thai-Burma border after being separated from his family. In 1997, Burmese and Karen military forces clashed near his village. As villagers scattered, Moo, his mother and his three brothers ran in different directions. He hasn’t seen his family since. “I didn’t get a chance to contact with them because they live in a rural area,” he said. “They don’t have any telephone.” Moo said he would like to go home and visit them some day, but he doesn’t know when that will be. “I miss them. Sometimes I saw them in my dreams,” he said softly. “It’s hard.” Driven by beliefs Moo speaks softly and smiles often. But as he preaches in his native language, Karen, his voice echoes inside the church’s main hall and he furrows his brow in earnestness. After he became a Christian, Moo felt compelled to share his beliefs as he studied more and more of the Bible. “(God) taught us that we need to let the people know what God said, and listen to him and obey him,” Moo said. “He’s a nice pastor, but he’s a young pastor,” said Heh Wah, one of the few translators in the Karen community. She said Karen pastors are usually more than 30 years old when they get done with a four-year Bible school program in Burma. Moo, 30, graduated from seminary school in the refugee camp when he was 25. But Heh Wah said Moo is hard-working and the Karen community likes him. “He has had a lot of experience,” she said. “He learned a lot in the refugee camp.” That’s where Moo met his “grandfather,” Cyril Sein, 73, with whom he now shares a 2-bedroom apartment in downtown Lincoln. They met at the Mae Ra Moe refugee camp where Sein was a pastor. Since neither of them had family, they decided to adopt one other. “I just came to the camp and we talk to each other and we decided he should be my grandpa,” Moo said with a small laugh. Not ordained but liked and accepted To support Sein and himself, Moo works in a local meat-packing plant. From Monday to Friday -- sometimes Saturdays and Sundays -- Moo strips meat from carcasses and puts the meat on a conveyor belt. “My sense is that that takes him away from what he loves, which is serving the church,” Riggs said. “But he does it. He’s a good guy, a hard-working and committed gentleman.” Although Moo leads the Karen congregation at First Baptist Church, he has not been ordained in America and doesn’t receive a salary from the church. In the Baptist Church, the congregation ordains its pastor. The Karen congregation wants to formally ordain Moo as a pastor this year, Heh Wah said, but he declined because he wants to learn more about Christianity first. Ordained or not, Riggs doesn’t have a problem with Moo leading the Karen congregation. “Bottom line is Pastor Isaac is their pastor.” Riggs said. “He serves that group of people. He does not marry, hold communion, or baptize, but he's their pastor.” The Karen congregation calls an ordained Karen pastor from Omaha to conduct the formal ceremonies that Moo can’t, Riggs said. Moo said he doesn’t have time to further his education at Bible school yet. “I have to take care of my grandpa,” he said. “But later if I have the chance, I want to do that.”

Jeremy Durick running on a pedestrian trail along Lake Michigan in Kenosha, Wis. Photos and story by Erin Andersen, NewsNetNebraska Eighteen years elapsed since Jeremy Durick, 35, ran his last 5k race sporting Bradford High School’s cardinal red and black Rowdy the Red Devil cross country uniform. In the fall of 1994, he left his running shoes untouched and Kenosha, Wis. behind. He vowed never to return to his industrial, crime-ridden hometown. Durick’s first stop on almost a decade detour was 60 miles northwest at University of Wisconsin’s Whitewater campus. Four years into pursuing a dual degree in Business Marketing and Computer Programming, his plans abruptly changed. Early one morning during winter break 1998, he awoke to the smell of smoke filling his apartment. Durick crawled through his first floor living room window unscathed. Only the clothes on his body and unlaundered ones in the trunk of his Pontiac Sunbird were salvageable from the electrical fire. Hotel living quickly lost its allure. Durick used the temporary housing situation as an impetus for transferring to the university’s Milwaukee extension, where he later earned his diploma. In the early Internet Age, Durick played a part in expanding broadband residential access in Boston, Tampa and Chicago. The final on-site assignment in Milwaukee with Internet service provider Road Runner edged him closer to the southeastern corner of Wisconsin he swore off. A computer consultant job with the County of Kenosha’s Department of Aging and Disability Services lured him homeward. He returned in the fall of 2002, but not without reluctance. After enduring a daily 80-mile round trip Wisconsin winter commute, he moved back to Kenosha in the spring and purchased his first home. The downtown area Durick once knew had been revitalized since he left. In 1994, the city purchased nearly 70 waterfront acres from Chrysler for $1. With $2.5 million in supplemental state and federal funding, the city spent $18.5 million cleaning up Chrysler’s contamination from assembly plants, turning a brownfield into usable space. Kenosha’s HarborPark along Lake Michigan now features upscale townhomes and restaurants, a marina, museums, and a pedestrian trail. Durick returned to a transformed town, but he was not yet a changed man. His running hiatus continued. “Life got in the way,” Durick said. The County contract ended early. Durick launched his own buy-fix-rent home company with his severance money. Pre-2008, business was booming and cash in results were almost instantaneous. In 2004, he owned and rented 13 local properties. Seven years later, he manages five houses through Southport Properties and Treetop Enterprises And in the middle of it all – during the summer of 2009 – Durick became a father. His life changed forever. Major transformation, however, remained almost a year away. Spring signals new beginnings. In April 2010 Durick realized he was “striving for a life of mediocrity, heading to a dead end, and spiraling down quickly.” “I was sitting at home absolutely miserable, doing nothing productive, felt like I was losing my business, wasn’t in love with the woman I was living with and had enough,” he said. Durick emerged from his sedentary routine of sitting on the couch and drinking an occasional beer or mixed drink after work and returned to running. He is not slow to take action once his mind is made up. The next morning he joined the YMCA and completed one lap around an elevated track. An eighth of a mile into his run, he was too winded to continue. To build endurance and lung capacity, he rode a stationary bike everyday for two months while reading James Patterson’s thriller novel collection. He cut fast food from his diet and stopped drinking alcohol. Three months into his new workout regimen, Durick became a member of the Kenosha Running Club. After the relationship with his girlfriend was over, he lived with her and his son for four additional months. Durick moved out in August. That fall he scaled Oregon’s 9,495-foot Mt. McLoughlin and hiked 14 miles in northern California’s Redwood National Forest. While visiting his friend in the Pacific Northwest, they and two professional biker acquaintances tackled a 17-mile downhill mountain biking course. “They didn’t realize it was my first time mountain biking,” he said. Durick’s running distance steadily increased. In the summer of 2011, he was race-ready. Even though his runs already reached the double-digit mileage mark, he joined a couch to 5k group though Great Lakes Church. The program incrementally prepares inactive individuals for 3.1 miles of running by gradually increasing running time and distance during a nine-week period. “I could have gone out there and blasted everyone away and said, ‘Hey, look at me! How come you can’t run this quick?’” he said. Motivating beginners, not finishing first, was one of his purposes in participating. He frequently exercised at 5:00 a.m. and repeated his workout later that night with the 13 other runners. “He’s very much a watching out for other people person. Folks like Jeremy never do things so that at the end of it they can get all of the accolades; they do it because there’s that inner understanding that we’re here to take care of each other,” Durick’s business partner and friend Dale Stearman said. Durick’s selfless character is enduring. The same 35-year-old who encouraged fellow runners rescued a middle-aged, drowning man who was trapped in the cabin of a sinking truck. He was 17 then. He did not recall the incident or mayoral Medal of Honor he received until strolling past the Lake Michigan Kenosha harbor site. Jumping in the frigid April water was “instinct,” he said. After winter snowmelt, Lake Michigan’s undertow is strong. Durick averted further discussion of his courageousness by swiftly proceeding to the next topic. New experiences characterize the past 18 months of his life. On Aug. 13, Durick ran his first race since 1993. Nerve-induced post-run vomiting was the norm then. He crossed the Hank Aaron State Trail 5k finish line in Milwaukee 20:54 after the gun sounded. He ranked fourth in his age division and 63rd among 1,447 runners at a 6:44 per mile pace. This time, Durick’s newfound confidence kept his nerves in check and breakfast repressed. For the first time since he biked to his grade school friend’s catechism class, this summer Durick drove his 1990 Ford F150 into the parking lot of church with his son, Jesse, in the passenger seat. He accepted an invitation from Kenosha Running Club friends to attend. He was baptized four months later, symbolizing death and burial of the old self and resurrection to new life. “This is the time; I want to have this new beginning. I made a commitment to God now. I’m ready for it,” he said. “I’ve always in the past said, well, I can’t do this until I have enough knowledge about it and I feel like I’m not ready for it because of some of the negative things in my life. No, it’s OK for me to have those. I will work on them after the baptism. I’ll end up working on this my whole life,” he said. Durick, the only one of 50 baptized in black biking shorts and a blue Lycra shirt, celebrated his spiritual rebirth Oct. 2. Six days later, he completed the ultimate physical challenge: Durick ran 26.2 miles of northern Illinois’ Des Plaines River Trail. Marathon training paralleled the regimen members of his running club followed. He typically logs 30 to 50 miles of 5:00 a.m. running per week while singlehandedly renovating his company’s homes by day. The 8:00 a.m. marathon began with 65-degree weather, but as the sun climbed the temperature rose 15 degrees. At mile 15.5, Durick thought he might not be able to keep his pace. At mile 17, Omar Flores, a runner of 14 years, slowed down and encouraged Durick to run ahead. At mile 19, he hit what runners call ‘the wall.’ “It’s the most tiring feeling you’ve ever felt in your life and you think you can’t go on,” Durick said. He persevered and popped Jelly Belly’s electrolyte-infused sport beans along the way. Flores dropped out. He has no recollection of mile 25, when a runner passed out beside him; the last stretch, when Ryan Bailey beat him by 16 seconds to a third place division medal; or mile 26.2, when he finished 26th with a 3:35:03 time. “A marathon changes you in a way words can’t describe.” Durick said after joining the ranks of marathon runners that day. “No matter what’s happening with his life – good, bad, crappy or almost unbelievable – he still believes he can change everything,” his decade-long friend Kim McCormick said. Next May, Durick intends to qualify for the elite Boston Marathon. If he finishes the Wisconsin Marathon gripping a big cheese medal in his hand, his next goal will be fulfilled.

The ladies of the Monterey Bay Officers' Spouses' Club host regular socials to get to know one another and help build a sense of community. Being married to a member of the Armed Forces can be incredibly demanding, and require a unique network of support. Photos provided by the Monterey Bay Officers' Spouses Club. Story by Amanda Stein, NewsNetNebraska For many women, the idea of their husband being deployed at the time of their daughter’s birth is difficult – if not unimaginable. But for Air Force wife Robyn Sheehan, it’s reality. And just one of the sacrifices that comes with being a military family. Robyn and her husband had a Sept. 11th baby -- eight years after the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. For Air Force Maj. Andrew Sheehan, her birth date was a reminder of why he was serving his country. He knew his mission in the Middle East was important and that his wife had the independence and resolve to take care of their two young children in his absence. Being a member of America’s Armed Forces comes with tremendous pressure and commitment, but life as a military spouse can be equally demanding. “In a military relationship, you really need to have two leaders … because when one of them is overseas, the other is left to manage and run the family. You have to find a strong spouse,” explained Andrew, who works as an engineer. “It’s great to know that my wife was completely capable of handling everything by herself. Military spouses almost need to be able to be a single mom and then transition back into being a two-parent family. And that’s hard.” The Sheenans follow the motto, ‘bloom where you grow,’ and have carried that with them to Monterey, Calif., where Andrew is studying Special Operations at the Naval Postgraduate School (NPS). Robyn became involved right away in the local spouse’s club, to help meet new people and build a network of support in an unfamiliar place. Together, they understand the difficulty of moving often, planning families around duties, and the fear that comes with deployments. But the ladies of the Monterey Bay Officer’s Spouses Club (MBOSC) have a graceful determination and resilience about them. Their stories, while unique, have many similarities, and tell of the hope and pride that lie beneath every challenge. They remind themselves, and each other, like a mantra: deployments are difficult, but doable. Moving is often sad, but it’s an adventure. The children will have moments of sadness and frustration, but they will flourish. “I’m really impressed with myself,” said Lynda Lind, a new mother and Navy wife of eight years. “I can mow the yard because my husband is gone for six months. I can move the grill because my husband is gone for six months. The truck broke down, I can figure out what to do without just calling the auto club. What can I do before I call them? I found a new me, a better me because of it.” Navy wife Rebecca Vandersluis agrees. She found that moving her family around a lot has helped strengthen their bond, and created a solid family unit that is ready to weather any storm. “There are no grandparents, there are no aunts, there are no uncles. It’s just us,” said Vandersluis. “And I have built a family that is completely stable and they trust in me and they know that no matter what news comes home today, no matter where we’re going, we’re okay. And I find it huge that I have been able to instill that kind of confidence in these three kids. And their world changes a lot.” It takes incredible strength to raise a family in the civilian world. But military spouses re-define what it means to be strong. But behind that strength and determination, these women have come to accept a reality that few can imagine – their husbands are frequently called to serve in some of the most dangerous places in the world. They understand the plight of military spouses – how a phone call or knock on the door can change everything. Robyn Sheehan slowly and thoughtfully recalls a close friend who first heard on the news that her husband’s hotel has been bombed. Sheehan’s eyes reflect the painful memory of the day she stood by as her friend buried her husband. “She was watching on the news and she knew something had happened, and she knew that her husband was staying at the hotel that was bombed,” said Sheehan. “Was he there or was he not? I can only imagine what she went through watching that on TV and waiting for the phone to ring. And it did. There is always that fear when you are a spouse and your husband is deployed. Fear of getting that phone call.” While the stress of deployments is eased by a service member’s return home, spouses face additional challenges as their husband or wife re-adjusts to life without guns and tents. Many spouses found their husbands ill-equipped to drive after having spent a year in the Middle East, where ‘combat driving’ means speed limits and signals are often suggestions rather than rules to follow. Parenting, too, can be challenging. Spouses must re-learn how to share household responsibilities, and to resume the role of co-parenting, occasionally with children that they are meeting for the first time. Divorce rates among military families have increased since the start of Operation Enduring Freedom, but many of the MBOSC wives acknowledge that they understood what they were getting into when they married a service member. It was a lifestyle that they vowed to make the most of, their commitment to the military had to be as steadfast as their husbands’. Amy Borst feels fortunate. She has no doubt that she and her husband were made for military life. Her husband has been in the Army for almost twenty years, and the family has had its fair share of challenges – homeschooling three children, the stress of frequent moves, and the uncertainty of deployments. But Borst has seen something wonderful come from her husband’s service as well. Her children have grown up in an environment that fostered togetherness, and understand the importance of supporting each other. “I understand perfectly why my husband does what he does. He loves his job. He knows that his job is essential. And he knows there aren’t that many people in the world who can serve in the military – not everyone is cut out to do it, and he is. “And I think that because he knows his wife is supportive and behind him, and that his kids are supportive and behind him, I think that’s the important thing -- that everybody is on-board. And as for me…I think I was made for this. This is where I was meant to be.”

Lincoln, NE - Justin Yohman, recently unemployed holds a pallet of gifts that are being prepared for the Toyland for Kids event at the Center for People in Need on Dec. 17. Yohman, a father to three, is relying on the center in order to give his kids Christmas presents. Photo and story by Andrew Dickinson, NewsNetNebraska After having 90 percent of his hours cut, a Lincoln father found himself without a job during the holiday season. Jordan Yohman, 29, aside from surviving financially, was distraught over the idea of his three daughters, two of whom are 11-year-old twins with high-functioning autism, not receiving Christmas presents. “(If they didn’t have gifts), with the fact that they have high-functioning autism, it would crush them beyond belief,” he said. “To them, it means nobody loves them, they take everything literally so it’d break their heart really more than any other child because they wouldn’t understand.” But, with financial struggles in his past, Yohman had connections with the Center for People in Need. The center will be holding it’s sixth annual Toyland for Kids event this weekend, where parents can come and pick out donated gifts for their children. For families to be eligible, they must complete an application process. One of the qualifications is the family must have an income of 150 percent of the federal poverty guideline or less. The federal poverty guideline fluctuates depending on the amount of people in a family. For a family of four to be under the poverty line, they would need to make less than $22,350 annually, according to the Federal Register published in Jan. 2011. The event is from 10 a.m. until 4 p.m. on Dec. 17, 1 p.m. until 4 p.m. on Dec. 18 and 3 p.m. until 7 p.m. on Dec. 19. Toyland for Kids is in its sixth year, and is an event where toys are distributed to kids as old as 18. Last year, it served 7,624 children according to the center’s website, and Beatty Brasch, executive director for the center, expects that number to be even higher this year. “Many of the families are extremely happy just because they’ve said, ‘We had no other place to get toys,’” Brasch said. “They’d have no other place to get toys for the holidays.” But as of earlier this week, the center was unsure whether enough toys would be donated for the event to be successful. “We were really worried about it, but the community has been extremely generous,” Brasch said, “So I think we’re going to be okay.” Aside from this event, the center has been a significant resource for Yohman and his family. “I came in here for certain health matters that I had when I couldn’t afford to get insurance at all,” he said. “They’ve helped me at any hard time that I’ve had and it’s helped out immensely getting over those bumps in life.” All week, Yohman has been helping at the center, moving pallets of toys across a huge warehouse filled with tables covered in gifts. A woman at the front reception counter stopped in with a truckload of toys and a moving truck full of boxes was being unloaded into the warehouse. And Yohman is grateful for those donors. “It’s a wonderful gift. I wish (the donors) could see the children’s eyes when they actually open up the gifts and play with them,” he said. “With a lot of the new products that they have, instead of some hand-me-down or already-used items, it means the world to them.” Although the event starts at 10 a.m., Yohman said he expects parents to be lining up outside as early as 6 a.m. “It’s like the Black Friday for people in need,” he said with a laugh. Once inside, parents will be able to peruse aisles of tables holding gifts for different age groups and genders. The scene is currently chaotic, but Yohman and the dozens of other workers expect to have it organized and ready to go by the opening on Saturday. The toys are received by the center from community donations, the U.S. Marine Corps’ Toys for Tots program, the Lincoln Police Union’s Santa Cop program and donations from the Allstate Foundation. Any further donors can bring toys to the center at 3901 N. 27th Street anytime before the event.

Courtesy photo Story by Andrew Dickinson, News Net Nebraska There were talks of icemen, Genghis Khan and Irish kings in the basement of the Union College administration building at 3800 S. 48 Street on Dec. 13. The Lincoln-Lancaster County Genealogical Society (LLCGS) held its monthly meeting with eight presentations by members on their successes and failures using DNA testing to expand their family trees. Sharon Sawyers, a member of the group and one of about 75 people at the meeting, has done extensive research on her family tree. “I became involved by testing my mother for her 92nd birthday,” she said. “Not that she cared, really.” Sawyers used a site called Family Tree DNA for her testing, a common resource for those looking to further their genealogic knowledge. Another common site is ancestry.com. But DNA testing isn’t purely a means to an end, and it doesn’t make the search for ancestors a simple task. “You’re still going to have to do genealogical research, because doing the DNA test just says, ‘My DNA matches your DNA,’” Sawyers said. “But you’re going to need to back that up with research.” She described DNA testing as a tool enabling her to direct her efforts. Despite it not being the ultimate tool, other members who had hit a “brick wall” in their search for ancestors found DNA testing helped them find deeper links. Cindy Cochran ordered three DNA tests: one for her brother, one for her husband and one for her cousin. Two of the three showed no results. But her brother, with the surname Anderson, had better luck. “We found this whole cluster of people, and it was really great because we had hit this brick wall, and I had this ancestor who appeared out of nowhere in South Carolina,” Cochran said. Groups like the LLCGS are pushing to widen the network of people connected through DNA testing, although the practice is still somewhat new. “The information is just beginning,” Sawyers said. “They only mapped the (Human Genome Project) in 2000. It’s totally new, and we’re going to learn so much more.” Sawyers recently bought a DNA test for her grandnephew, hoping to keep his interest in family history high. “Everybody wants to be tied to someone else,” she said. “And this is about your life, your lifeline goes back to the beginning, and when you’re doing your DNA, you’re in touch with that lifeline.” DNA tests can range from as low as $100 to as high as $200 for a more extensive test. “There’s any number of different avenues you can take, but, basically, it’s about life,” Sawyers said. “Life from the beginning to now. And it’s your life, your ancestors.”

Students helping out at UNL's Center for Civic Engagement, Union room 222. Story and photos by: Katie Walter, NewsNetNebraska University of Nebraska Junior business major Torre Lespreance volunteers regularly with the Humane Society, Bryan LGH, and other organizations. Most recently she was helping the People's City Mission set up for their annual Starry Nights Gala at the Lincoln Station. Lespreance is just one of many students who believe that volunteering and other forms of civic engagement are important, and they are not alone. The University of Nebraska-Lincoln agrees. This fall, the new Center for Civic Engagement opened, calling home room 222 in the Union. According to Linda Major, assistant to the Vice Chancellor and Student Involvement director, the center is set up to help students get involved and connect with volunteering opportunities and service learning experiences. Part of this includes providing faculty professional development so they can promote service learning within the community. The Center also works with community partners to make the experience co-educational. Student Involvement Director Linda Major says the Center for Civic Engagement is happening at the right time. Need for involvement Major sees a generational shift where more young people are seeking the kinds of opportunities the Center for Civic Engagement provides. She says there’s a different attitude current students are bringing to campus. Center for Civic engagement comes out at, “The right time and the right place to where many students are at. There’s a desire and a passion to make a difference in the world.” Major said. What they want to do is give students the knowledge and the experience to make that process happen. “We’re seeing things like Occupy Wall Street, as a movement where young people are finding their voice.” Major said that even if the focus isn’t completely coherent with movements like Occupy Wall Street, she thinks it’s great that young people are getting involved. “I’m very intrigued with the whole process (of Occupy Wall Street)” Major said. Examples of student volunteering Service volunteering is what most people are familiar with. It is used to satisfy hour requirements due to a membership obligation, but some people do it as part of their normal routine. Volunteers at the Lincoln Station help set up the annual Starry Nights Gala at the Lincoln Station. The People’s City Mission is one hot spot for service volunteering. Director Lisa McClung says that in order to accomplish all they want to, they need volunteers, and students make up a large part of that. “We’ve had students come and volunteer for us for whatever reason, and actually go on to intern and work for us in some cases.” McClung said. McClung sees a trend where more students are getting involved. She says that allows students life lessons that a classroom might not be able to teach. Junior business major Torre Lespreance says volunteering is part of who she is. While she uses some of the hours to satisfy requirements for her business fraternity Phi Beta Lamda, she enjoys doing it. “To me, volunteering just makes me feel like I’m actually doing something, It makes me feel good. I try to incorporate it into my life as much as I can.” Lespreance said. Lespreance was one of many volunteering at the set up for the People’s City Mission annual Christmas Gala, which was held on December 4 at the Lincoln Station Great Hall. Sixty percent of UNL students report they have volunteered in the last year. Major she says that while some of this statistic might have been due to requirements as part of membership, there are a number of students that are seeking out opportunities to volunteer. Even though there still are competing interests. “Students at UNL work a lot and some students need to have a little bit of a nudge so they can get an experience volunteering or civic engagement offers. Once they get their toe in the water, they go on.” Major said. The Center for Civic Engagement's slogan is, “Seeing the world as something larger than yourself.” It was created by a student in a focus group. “We’re in a time where people are tired of the “what about me” attitude and they want to see others help out for the overall good.” Research conducted by psychologist Dr. Marlone Henderson suggests that, "People who see the “glass as half empty” may be more willing to contribute to a common goal if they already identify with it." Adding to that idea, Major says we’re also in place where we are recognizing unethical behavior and have started to see character as a forgotten art. She says the administration is trying to find a way to reinforce personal and social responsibility. Major emphasizes civic learning can allow students the opportunity to become better educated citizens and able to participate in the democratic process more efficiently. What's next? The Center for Civic Engagement goal is to connect education to civic service so it is introducing a Civic Engagement Certificate. It is due to premiere in the spring 2012 semester. The certificate was created to allow students to become more active citizens, as well as making students more competitive for graduate school entry and employment. “[The Certificate] is tailored to you. Soon some UNL classes will have a "Civic Engagement"  symbol next to them in course listings that mean they will count towards the Civic Engagement certificate.” Major said It's possible for students to complete classes for their degree while earning credit towards the certificate. The Center wanted to create is a process that would allow students to get credit for the certificate while they’re doing their own coursework. Careful selection of courses, accompanied with co-curricular civic plan is now what the certificate will comprise of. “We’re on the leading edge where a lot of institutions are going across the nation.” Major added. “The whole point is to give students the skills, knowledge, and experience to be good citizen leaders and good professionals on the other side of graduation. We want to show that these two concepts aren’t mutual exclusive.” said Major There was a small change to the requirements of the certificate, causing the delay of the program. It’s still waiting for voting, but the final outline has been approved by the Board of Regents. They are recruiting for the first cohort right now, and they will start the two year plan in the spring. Lespreance says that she could see many people getting involved in the Civic Engagement Certificate program. “I’ve seen students go on to do great things within their own civic engagement after they volunteer or do something even once. People just need a push, and they see they can make a difference in others and in themselves.”

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