Published: June 24, 2008 09:20 am         

Index snares two awards in annual state press contest

The Mineral Wells Index received honors in two writing categories in this year’s “Better Newspaper Contest” sponsored by the Texas Press Association.

The winners were announced Saturday at the 129th annual TPA convention hosted this year in Arlington, Texas. This year’s contest was judged by members of the Wisconsin Newspaper Association.

Competing in the category for daily newspapers with a circulation of 7,000 or less, the Index was awarded second place in the feature writing category. Two articles were submitted for consideration, one written by staff writer Lacie Morrison and the other by Editor David May.

Morrison’s article, “The price of their service: Local servicemen among those who have returned from Iraq fighting to overcome the emotional scars” was published July 22. The judge commented: “Excellent, excellent piece. Writer is able to take an intimate look into the soldiers’ post-deployment lives and deftly illuminates the impact of PTSD. Nice cutout made of soldiers, eye-catching layout. Nice overall job.”

The judge’s comments for May’s feature article, “Mineral Wells man muscles up for win,” included, “Punchy lead. Well-written.”

The Index claimed third place for news writing with two articles submitted for consideration. One of those articles was written by staff writer Libby Cluett entitled “The stadium blame game.”

Less than a month on the job when the story published on Jan. 28, Cluett tackled for the first time the complex story involving the cost overruns at the football stadium and high school athletics complex. The judge wrote: “Great lead, headline appropriate for story. Good use of sources. … Great use of breakout quotes and online component. Nice work.”

This category included a story by Morrison entitled, “Freedom short-lived for CCA escapees.” “Good lead, concise writing,” wrote the judge.

The Index’s 2008 awards accompany a handful of TPA awards received in recent years for layout/design, headline writing and feature photography.



Here's the full article that placed 2nd for Division 3 feature writing:



By Lacie Morrison
lmorrison@mineralwellsindex.com

They answered their country’s call to service in 2004, leaving behind their families, friends and homes to spend the next 12 months in the desert country of Iraq where the “War on Terrorism” has raged in the Middle East. They fought, they built, they protected and they followed orders. In 2005, the National Guard’s Bravo Company 111th Engineers returned to Texas and their families as veterans.

In returning home from war, some soldiers are finding themselves fighting a new battle – one with themselves.

When Richard Choate and Lonnie Johnson first returned from the sands of Iraq, the first few weeks were what they called a “bliss period.” They weren’t immediately conscious that they might have a lingering consequence of their yearlong deployment. Now getting help with Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, they talked about what it’s been like – coming home a different person and how it’s impacted their lives in a variety of ways.

“It took about two to three weeks to start kicking in,” Choate recalled. “When I was first back, it was the ‘bliss period.’ I would not even during that time, I wouldn’t venture far from the house or be around anybody. If I went out somewhere, I went really fast.”

Choate has been home for 18 months after serving with his Bravo Company in Baghdad.

“In big crowd events, you’re used to something going wrong,” added Johnson, who was deployed with the Charlie Company, 386th Engineers, attachment 278, an armor cavalry regiment of Tennessee. He returned from the Delilah Province in Iraq a month before Choate. He noted that his father first pointed out a difference in him.

“He took me to the VA the first time. It made it easier, him being there,” he commented.

When asked what PTSD was like, Choate replied, “Always mad, have all these nightmares, cold sweats [and] an extremely low tolerance. It doesn’t take much to set you off, react. You instantly go back into defensive-offensive [mode].”

He smiled. “It’s weird. You look at trash in a totally different way [because of improvised explosive devices]. You don’t run over potholes, trash, carcasses of animals [or] manholes.”

“You don’t process what’s going on,” agreed Johnson. “I was a real mellow, low-key person. [Now] I have no tolerance. I usually walk away from stuff. … The old you is gone and people tell you you’ll never be the old you.”

Johnson said he experiences dreams.

“Usually when I have a dream, I remember every detail. It’s like I’m really there. When you wake up, you know it’s fabricated. It’s not always a combat scenario. It’s off-the-wall, trying to problem solve. I slept like a rock before I left.”

“Now, things people think are real important, you don’t stress about a lot of stuff work related. You really look at things and evaluate them on a combat standard,” Choate said. “You start feeling like you don’t fit in. Life did move on. It’s a constant fight with yourself.”

Jon Dutzel, who was a medic with the 111th Engineers, Alpha Company, said he noticed a personality difference in himself when he returned in December of 2005.

“I was more outgoing,” he recalled. “Now, I don’t seem self-assured.”

Self-employed in construction, Dutzel said, “I used to be gung-ho about getting jobs. I’ve been on one job since I’ve been back. I don’t feel any self-confidence [but] I know I can do the work.”

The combat mentality for Choate and Johnson echoes in their jobs; the two work in the same department. They watch each other’s backs while on the job and always scan their surroundings. Even in restaurants, Choate noted they observe who’s in the room. They both shy away from the theater.

Even with assistance from counselors, Johnson observed, “It stays pretty much the same [but] I’ll be more casual about it.”

Both men agree that counseling has helped, where they are able to talk to others about their experiences.

“It’s easy to talk to vets but hard for your friends and even family to know what you’re feeling,” Choate explained. “You’re never going to get over it. You just learn how to deal with it [like] really thinking before you speak.”

“It is a [hassle] to go up to the VA [clinic] – go through big cities, you don’t know people,” Johnson observed. “It’s not really a simple task at first. Once you start going, you can drive through the big cities.”

“I don’t think most of the public are very aware of it,” Dutzel said. “Even when I came back, I didn’t think about it. A lot of people wait for years. Since I’m a medic, I try to tell them it doesn’t hurt to talk about it. I didn’t think I had a problem till I talked to somebody.”

He added, “You try to shut it off. You can’t really turn it off. It’ll come out somehow. I’d rather get things talked out now than later.”

Both Choate and Johnson agree that neither have any complaints or issues with the services provided to them and their needs have been adequately met.

“They’re growing with the problem,” Choate remarked. He acknowledged that although the help is readily available, “you’ve got to seek it and I think a lot of people won’t put forth the effort. It’s either you try to get some help or you’ll lose. It’s pretty hard to deal with on your own.”

Choate said he believes anyone who’s been in a theater of war in Iraq “has PTSD in some shape or form. I think it comes with being in the combat environment. You ask yourself, ‘will you make it through the day or die?’ There is no safe zone over there.”

While PTSD immediately impacts the soldiers, the families also encounter the effects of the illness.

“You really don’t have a choice there,” remarked Johnson on its impact on his family. “My life’s been a total wreck since I’ve been back. I’m working on it. … Recovery’s pretty much going to have to be me.”

He and his wife Elishia have been married for nine years.

“He was a very outgoing, life-of-the-party person,” she said of her husband before his deployment. “His temper wasn’t as bad. Everybody really liked him.”

The “bliss period” when he returned lasted about five months, she estimated. “It was okay and then things really started. He had nightmares [and] now gets up two or three times a night. We don’t go anywhere [and] he prefers for me to stay home. … He’s not really fond of crowds. It used to not be that way. He used to be in the center.”

Comparing her husband’s behavior prior to deployment and after his return, she remarked, “It was like a whole other person. I was like ‘what did you do with my husband?’”

Both Johnson and her husband agree PTSD has an impact on his parenting.

“I’m trying to do everything I can to teach them,” Lonnie Johnson said. “I almost paid the ultimate price once. I’m trying to teach them all I can now.”

Elishia Johnson added that when it comes to discipling their children, “now, he’s gotten to where if he’s really mad, he lets me deal with it. That’s a really recent step.”

Another veteran who declined to be named said PTSD had the biggest impact on his mental and physical relationships with his family and the general public.

“In parenting, I’ve got a son and I have to concentrate on remembering he’s a 12-year-old kid,” he remarked. “I go easy with him [and] take time-out for myself. … I had no idea how it’d change my life.”

Babette Dutzel said she didn’t know her husband had PTSD until one drill weekend a few months ago, he was told to seek counseling.

“I didn’t realize because he never said anything,” she commented. As he wasn’t in a direct line of fire, she said, “To me, it felt like he wasn’t in that much danger. Little by little, what he did see did affect him.”

The first change in her husband she saw was anger but “it didn’t register.”

Now, Jon Dutzel said he, like many other soldiers, is seeking help for PTSD.

“We try to tell all the guys we can about getting help,” Choate commented. “We sought help for it. A lot don’t – they’re scared to go or laziness.”

“We tell them ‘we said the same thing.’ You need to go, not just for mental health but physical health, too,” Johnson commented.

“That’s a nasty country, a lot of parasites,” Choate added. “I’m just glad of all the work the Vietnam vets did. They didn’t have this kind of help.”

“They basically got everything set up for the next generation so the next generation wouldn’t be left out in the dark,” agreed Johnson. “Don’t try to bottle it up. That’s one of the biggest problems I have. After it’s all said and done, I should’ve dealt

with it then.”

When asked what their opinions are on if their deployment was worth coming home to deal with PTSD, Johnson quietly replied, “Maybe after the war’s over, I can say it [was or wasn’t].”

His wife commented, “I don’t know. I know he’s told me things he’s done that’s made very me proud of him. As far as me, it’s not worth it, not with the drastic changes.”

Choate remarked, “I’m not mad about it. That’s just part of what comes with going to war. … When I was on recruiting, no matter what your job is, you’re trained to go to war. In Iraq, Vietnam, there is no front line. You really don’t know who the enemy is.”

“I volunteered to go over there. I would do it again,” Dutzel remarked. “I might not like the end result [but] I think we’re doing some good.”

His wife, Babette, said, “If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t want to. I wouldn’t want him to go through that again.”

“It was worth it to be with the other soldiers,” Choate commented. “I’m still a little confused as to why we’re in Iraq. I can’t understand it, but I accept it. I chose that profession.”

Another soldier who declined to be named concluded, “The positive reinforcement that the community and people you’re friends with has a lot to do with it [the impact of PTSD]. The negative stuff you see on TV tears at you.”

When asked if he believes his presence made a difference, he replied, “I think it did. A bunch of stuff I did was beneficial for people. They didn’t have quality drinking water. Because of my time over there, they have a chance to have quality drinking water.”