When Lupus Strikes, Caregivers Wear Plaid

Posted on June 25, 2020 | 1 comment

Sean Lowther and Patty White Dunn met in 4th grade at Coleytown Elementary School. They were “first loves” all through Miss Comer’s ballroom dance class.

Sean Lowther and Patty White Dunn, at Coleytown Elementary School in the 1950s.

Sean moved to Weston. But they fell back in love at Staples High School’s Class of 1962. They broke up for reasons neither remembers now, and did not see each other for 40 years.

After their respective divorces Patty contacted Sean through Classmates.com. She moved from Mobile to be with him in Charlotte. They’ve been married now for 18 years.

But that’s not what this story is about.

At 28, Patty was diagnosed with lupus. The autoimmune disease affects 1.5 million Americans — 90% of them women. With symptoms including fatigue, fever, joint pain, rashes, skin lesions, shortness of breath, chest pain, dry eyes, headaches, confusion and memory loss, it’s a chronic, debilitating — and life-altering — event.

In North Carolina, Patty — who had been a guardian ad litem, and worked with women whose husbands fought in Desert Storm — became board chair of the state Lupus Foundation of America chapter. Sean — who ran several businesses, and now owns a company that videotapes legal depositions — joined too. He also became chair.

Four years ago, he began writing a book about male caregivers.

It’s a role, he says, that most men are not trained to handle. But it’s crucial. Up to 75% of couples divorce after a lupus diagnosis — in part because men do not understand how to live with their spouse’s limitations.

More than 300 pages long, Caregivers Wear Plaid covers the long road to diagnosis (symptoms can mimic multiple sclerosis or rheumatoid arthritis, and many doctors receive only cursory training about it, Sean says); medications; depression; sex and pregnancy; support groups, and more.

Sean and Patty today.

It’s wide-ranging, honest, and filled with information. For example, Sean writes about feeling guilty that he can play golf, and Patty can’t.

And though a woman is usually the one who suffers physically, lupus affects her husband too. Because of fatigue, their social life may become limited. When she does feel good and venture out, others may wonder what the big deal is. “You find out who your friends really are,” Sean says.

Caregivers Wear Plaid is available as an e-book — and it’s free. Sean and Patty want as many people to read it as possible.

So what’s next? For nearly 2 decades, Sean has produced videos about managing autoimmune diseases. It’s considered the largest video library in the world about lupus, but it’s “hidden” on the state foundation website. He’s in the process of remastering it, for distribution at the national level.

(To download Caregivers Wear Plaid, and for more information on Patty and Sean, click here.)

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Pic Of The Day #1164

Posted on June 24, 2020 | 2 comments

Bears and a flag, at the Exxon station (Photo/Ed Simek)

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Roundup: Yarn Bomber; Rock Doc; Camper Fund; History; More

Posted on June 24, 2020 | 3 comments

You can’t keep a good Yarn Bomber down.

In the latest installment of Westport’s ongoing, fun mystery, TV reporter Anne Craig reports on the unknown knitter’s latest creation.

But in addition to showcasing her work on Compo Beach Road — right by the marina — Anne also makes an offer.

The Yarn Bomber wants to help someone who needs a colorful, lively, humorous pick-me-up. That’s right: a “gift bomb.”

“It can be someone on the front lines, or someone who has suffered a loss,” Anne says. “Someone who has been through a lot, or has given a lot.

All that’s needed is a nomination. So watch Anne’s new video below — it’s another winner! — and if you know someone who could benefit from a yard bomb, put his or her name in the YouTube comments section.

Bombs away!

“The High School That Rocked!” — Fred Cantor’s documentary about the amazing bands that played in Westport back in the (glory) days — is going national.

From June 26-28, it’s part of the Albuquerque Film & Music Experience’s online “Best of the Fest” programming.

In 2017, the film was chosen as Best Short Documentary 1st runner-up at the event.

“THSTR” is part of 6 music documentary shorts and videos. The cost to watch all is just $1. Proceeds are split 50/50 between the festival and filmmakers — but Cantor is turning his share back to the organizers.

To see this intriguing film — and 5 others — click here.

One consequence of COVID-19: closures and reductions in summer programs has left working families without affordable childcare options.

Westport’s Department of Human Services can help. They’ve created a Campership Fund, to help cover the cost of programs.

The average weekly cost of a day camp is $300. Donations of any size can help a child attend for a day, week or the entire summer. Contributions can be made online (click here), or by check (payable to Westport Human Services “DHS Campership Fund,” 110 Myrtle Avenue, Westport, CT 06880.

For more information, call Annette D’Augelli (203-341-1050) or email adaugelli@westportct.gov.

Summer camp is always fun. (Photos/Jaime Bairaktaris)

This year’s National History Day them was “Breaking Barriers.”

Long before the eyes of the nation focused on forgotten Black heroes, Staples High School sophomores Emma Nordberg and Lea Rivel chose Robert Smalls. A former enslaved man who stole a Confederate vessel and joined the Union, he convinced President Lincoln to allow African American men to join the army, was the first Black commander of an American warship, and became one of the first Black congressmen during Reconstruction.

The coronavirus forced this year’s History Day competition into cyberspace. But working together, Emma and Lea placed 4th nationally. It’s a great achievement for them, and their US History teacher Drew Coyne.

That’s not the first National History Day competition for Westport students — or even for a Nordberg. In 2016 Emma’s brother Konur and 4 Bedford Middle School classmates won 1st place at the state level, and went on to the national competition. They interviewed Claudette Colvin, the first Black woman who refused to give up her son, even before Rosa Parks’ famous act.

Congratulations, Emma and Lea!

Emma Nordberg

And finally … let’s all keep thinking about (and being aware of) stereotypes.

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Posted in Entertainment, History, Media, Organizations, Staples HS, Teenagers

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Remarkable Theater Premieres Friday

Posted on June 24, 2020 | 22 comments

A remarkable new era begins Friday.

That’s when the Remarkable Theater opens its summer drive-in series, at the Imperial Avenue parking lot. (The same site as the Westport Farmers’ Market.)

It’s a win-win. The theater offers employment to people with disabilities, while providing safe, socially distant entertainment for the town.

Two classic films are on tap this weekend: “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” on Friday; “Caddyshack” Saturday.

Opening night is a fundraiser for the Westport Woman’s Club — the Imperial parking lot’s next door neighbor. With no Yankee Doodle Fair this year due to COVID-19, this is a great way to support their food closet.

Tickets for Friday’s fundraiser are $100 per car. Other shows are $50 per car.

Tickets go on sale at 3 p.m. today. Click here to reserve a spot.

Follow the Remarkable Theater on Facebook and Instagram to see upcoming shows, or to make suggestions for movies you want to see next.

(The screenings are made possible with the financial support of the Connecticut Department of Developmental Disabilities and the ARTHA Foundation, and help from the Westport Weston Chamber of Commerce and Westport Library.)

The entrance to Westport’s newest theater.

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Unsung Hero #151

Posted on June 24, 2020 | 16 comments

The other day, Maureen Belford retired.

An educator for over 43 years in the Catholic school system, she had a remarkable impact on students and families. She helped countless elementary and middle schoolers grow and learn.

Madeline Bayliss met Maureen when both were kindergartners at Assumption School in Westport. Years later, Maureen returned to teach there.

After 13 years at Assumption, she moved to St. Cecilia (now Catholic Academy of Stamford) in 1991. She taught 5th grade math, science and religion, and became assistant to the principal there. In that role she ran the after-school program, working with children while ensuring their safety and comfort.

Dr. Joann Borchetta, her principal for 24 years, calls Maureen “the best teacher I ever worked with….a mentor and a quiet leader.”

Among her many honors, Maureen received the Tim Russert Award. The Diocese of Bridgeport hosted a large banquet for her.

Maureen Belford (left), at a Washington ceremony honoring the Catholic Academy of Stamford as a Blue Ribbon School. Her principal, Dr. Joann Borchetta, is on the right. The award was presented by a Department of Education official.

Her principal added that Maureen could have been on the Weather Channel if she wanted. She brought meteorologists to visit class, and often took students outside for weather experiments.

In teaching religion, Borchetta said, Maureen embodied the school’s mission statement. She was a strong advocate of the school’s yearly Cultural Enrichment program.

Every year, Madeline says, she called Maureen a few days after school began. The educator had already assessed each child, figured out their personalities and how they learned, and knew how she would work with everyone individually and the class as a whole. She was passionate about inspiring lifelong learning.

She was also not afraid to try new technology. When the school installed SmartBoards, Maureen embraced them. She asked her students to help her learn. Her principal says “they loved her honesty and transparency.”

Middle school students often returned to visit Maureen. She boosted their confidence. Many of those relationships — and those with fellow teachers and parents — continue today.

Maureen Belford (left) acknowledges applause from 8th graders, at this year’s graduation ceremony.

“She is a treasure,” her principal says. “Parents say she was one of the best teachers their children ever had. She is firm but loving. Her students always felt secure and important in her classroom. She is one of those incredible people who are truly authentic, and cherish their faith, family and friends.

“Everyone should have a Maureen in their lives. Some of us did, and are blessed.”

A lifelong Westporter, Maureen remains an active Assumption parishioner. She chaired the Parish Council, and still serves as a Eucharist minister.

Because of COVID-19, Maureen’s retirement took place without public fanfare. But “06880” will not let it pass without this well-deserved, Unsung Hero shoutout!

(To nominate an Unsung Hero, email dwoog@optonline.net)

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Remembering Greg Katz

Posted on June 24, 2020 | 26 comments

Gregory Katz — a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, noted raconteur, lover of music and baseball and cigars, and longtime (though sometimes part-time) Westporter — died yesterday in London.

He was 67 years old. He had been ill with cancer for several months, and contracted COVID-19.

Greg Katz, in the Staples High School 1971 yearbook.

He made his first headlines not as a writer, but as an athlete. In 1970 Katz — a Staples High School junior, an excellent catcher and the proud possessor of a head of shoulder length, curly hair — petitioned the Staples Governing Board to remove dress code restrictions on athletes. He called them “arbitrary standards of appearance,” which exacerbated social divisions at the school.

After an intense debate, the measure passed 11-6. Katz was free to try out for the team coached by  Brian Kelley, an ex-Marine who still looked the part.

After the University of Vermont, traveling throughout Latin America and writing for the Provincetown Advocate, Katz was in New York City in December 1980.

John Lennon was shot inside the Dakota. Katz’s parents — who owned a home across from what is now Joey’s By the Shore (Elvira’s), where Katz grew up — also had an apartment there.

Katz was the only journalist who could enter the building. He interviewed, among others, the doorman who was witnessed the murder. His story ran in Rolling Stone magazine — the famous edition with Annie Liebovitz’s photo of a naked Lennon and Yoko Ono on the cover.

After writing for USA Today and serving as Latin America bureau chief for the Dallas Morning News (and earning a share of the 1994 Pulitzer for international reporting, with a 14-part series on violence against women around the world) as well as Europe and Middle East bureau chief for the Houston Chronicle, he joined the Associated Press in London. In 2013 he was named acting bureau chief. He also appeared frequently on the BBC’s “Dateline London.”

He wrote about popes, politics, refugees and Queen Elizabeth. But he returned to Westport every summer, spending many weeks in a house he and his wife Bea Sennewald owned on Saugatuck Shores, with their daughter Sophia.

Katz loved those summers. He learned to sail at Longshore, and owned a kayak that he often paddled to Cockenoe.

Greg Katz (Photo/Bill Armstrong)

He went to as many baseball games as he could, too. (Of course, he loved covering the Yankees-Red Sox game in London last year.)

He and Bea hosted friends from everywhere, including some of the most noted journalists on the planet. He spent many happy hours on his deck, watching the water and nature.

Neighbor Bill Armstrong said, “His one great fear was that he’d be enjoying his Westport summer — but would get the dreaded call that Her Majesty The Queen had passed away. Greg would then have to rush back to London and spend weeks covering the state funeral and the coronation of Charles.”

Several times a summer, I joined him for breakfast at the Sherwood Diner. He asked about Westport; in turn, he’d chat about his work, covering the latest crisis in the Mideast or Parliament. He was not dropping names; he was describing his life, and what he loved (and hated) about it.

Greg Katz (Photo/Lynn Untermeyer Miller)

The AP’s story on his death quotes Anne-Marie O’Connor, a London-based journalist and author, who covered Haiti and Cuba with Katz in the 1990s. She said, “in addition to being a wonderfully curious reporter, Greg could be riotously funny, and his sense of humor elevated the esprit de corps of his colleagues on the road.”

Ian Phillips, AP’s international news director, described him as a “suave, waistcoat-wearing, straw boater-wearing, gravelly-voice gent … an American abroad but my God how he assimilated! … He managed to capture so much about British society in his writing — the nuance, the singularity, the humor, the tradition.”

He was “a bon vivant” with an encyclopedic knowledge of jazz and baseball, added Richard Boudreaux, of the Wall Street Journal. “He could recite the starting lineup of just about any Yankees team going back to the late 1950s, when he was only a kid.”

Greg never lost that “kid” spirit. He had it on the Staples baseball team, and at Woodstock. He had it wherever he wrote, around the globe.

And of course right here by the water, in his home town of Westport.

(For the AP obituary of Greg Katz, click here. For an “06880” story on Greg Katz’s coverage of Brexit, click here.)

Greg Katz

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Posted in Media, People, Politics, Sports, Staples HS

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Mia Gentile Asks: “Have You Ever Seen The Rain?”

Posted on June 24, 2020 | 3 comments

Take Creedence Clearwater Revival’s haunting “Have You Ever Seen the Rain.” Add a ’60’s girl group vibe, with Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound. Mix in Mia Gentile, the multi-talented 2007 Staples High School graduate.

What do you get?

A song that — in the days following the killing of George Floyd — manages to be both poignant and uplifting.

Mia Gentile, pitching Stanley Steemer.

That’s the genius of Mia — a former Staples Players superstar who went on to Broadway in “Kinky Boots” — and musician/video producer Roger Klug.

In 2012 they collaborated on a “Stanley Steemer” mashup video, with Mia performing that ubiquitous jingle in every genre from jazz, opera, country and Latin to torch song, punk rock, gospel and Lady Gaga. It wracked up 2 million views, and landed Mia an appearance on ABC’s Good Morning America.

Mia and Roger are back together, this time in a project called MISSYFIT.

After their first single, they recorded a few covers. One was CCR’s tune, which they decuded to take back in time.

Mia and Roger worked long distance, via FaceTime. She was on the computer in her Manhattan bedroom, listening on headphone to the backing track he’d created. He was in his Cincinnati studio, hearing Mia’s a cappella voice. During post-production he cut out the sounds of sirens (and an ice cream truck) that leaked through her window.

For reasons he can’t explain, Roger felt the need to work on “Have You Ever Seen the Rain” before other projects that were further along.

Mia Gentile, today.

Then the unarmed Black man was killed in Minneapolis. News of protests and an explosion of awareness of systemic racism in America felt like an echo of the past.

Roger and his family joined demonstrations in Cincinnati. As he described those events to Mia, they realized they had to release the song. They started to envision how a video could underline the lyrics, speaking to the civil rights movement of the 1960s as well as the resurgent demand for racial equality today.

The 2nd recording session — which included a toy xylophone — took place a few days later. Then Roger went to work mixing the vocals and producing the video. Its images of protests from the ’60s — and now the ’20 — are raw, and thought-provoking.

In retrospect, MISSYFIT’s decision to use a girl group/Phil Spector sound seems compelling. There’s a poignant juxtaposition of a bright, peppy, more innocent time, and the dark lyrics.

“Hearing about war, violence and systemic racism from the mouth of babes (so to speak) is powerful,” Mia says. “Youth continue to be at the forefront of progressive American culture.” (Click the link below to listen.)

The single has been released on MISSYFIT’s YouTube page. Reaction has been very positive.

“This song that came to us on a whim now shines a light on how music and art can hold a mirror up to society,” Mia notes.

“People have had enough. It’s time for action.”

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Posted in Entertainment, People, Politics, Staples HS

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Pics Of The Day #1163

Posted on June 23, 2020 | 2 comments

Colorful yarn bombing at Compo Beach … (Photo/Judy Auber Jahnel)

… and colorful flowers, around the corner (Photo/Lauri Weiser)

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Roundup: Wakeman Town Farm; Beechwood Arts; Barber And Bread Closings; More

Posted on June 23, 2020 | 14 comments

The latest Westport institution to reopen is Wakeman Town Farm.

They’re doing it slowly. First they offer private farm visits, with a tour guide (optional).

Kids and parents will enjoy vegetable and pollinator gardens, beehives and animals (alpacas, goats, sheep, ducks, chickens, bunnies, even alpacas).

Tours are every Saturday morning through July, in 3 time slots: 9-9:45, 10-10:45 and 11-11:45.

Registration (click here) is first-come, first-served. The fee supports animal care and farm maintenance.

Justin Paul and his family enjoyed a recent Wakeman Town Farm tour.

The AMPLIFY Festival — Beechwood Arts’ supportive showcase for black artists and performers — continues this week. All performances begin at 7 p.m.

Today (Tuesday, June 22), Kahyree Jannah reads his poem “You’re Killing Me Again,” and violist Amadi Azikiwe performs works by Coleridge Taylor Perkinson and Jessie Montgomery.

Tomorrow (Wednesday, June 24), writer/actor Iyaba Ibo Mandingo shares the fears of a black father whose children live in “the crosshairs of America.” He’ll perform a piece inspired by, and performed under, Beechwood’s 400-year-old copper beech tree.

Thursday, June 25 features poetry slam champion Tarishi Midnight Shuler, as well as the Delphi Dance Company.

On Friday, June 26, jazz vocalist Frederick Johnson leads a conversation on bringing people together through the power of words and music.

Click here to access the performances — and see those still archived from last week’s AMPLIFY Festival.

Compo Barber Shop — an institution in Compo Shopping Center for nearly 60 years — is closing. The final day for business is this Friday (June 26).

Tommy Ghianuly opened the shop, and ran it until his death in January 2019. New owners took over the next month.

The good news is, all of Compo Barber’s staff is moving to Westport Hair & Co. That’s the salon next to now-closed Olympia Sports, a few yards east in the same Compo Shopping Center.

They look forward to carrying on the 6-decade leagcy in their new shared space.

And they made a deal with Compo Barber’s owner to keep Tommy’s old phone number: 203-227-9779.

Another closure, this one reported by a reader: Panera Bread in Westport.

A phone call to the Post Road East store went unanswered, as did an email sent to the corporate press office. If anyone knows anything about this location, please click “Comments” below.

The Panera Bread near HomeGoods.

And finally … all the recent talk about Confederate flags and monuments made me think of this:

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Posted in Arts, Environment, Local business, Organizations

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Zoe Brown: An Eloquent 20s Voice, For 2020

Posted on June 23, 2020 | 8 comments

At Staples Zoe Brown served as editor-in-chief of the school paper Inklings and co-president of the Teen Awareness Group, and played field hockey.

She graduated last month from the University of Southern California where she studied communication and cinematic arts, founded the Girls Who Read book club, and was a Hillel leader.

Zoe started her blog, Coast Confused, in 2015 just before graduating from Staples and switching coasts. 

She is moving back to Los Angeles this week, to search for a job in entertainment. Her goal is to become a literary manager and producer, or a showrunner and creator like Dan Fogelman.

Zoe Brown: proud graduate, in her home town.

The other day Zoe woke up with many confused feelings. She watched videos of her favorite writer, Marina Keegan, doing spoken word poetry, then put down her own thoughts. The resulting blog story is a wonderful piece of writing: powerful, insightful, honest, raw, personal yet universal. I’m honored to re-post it here. 

Lately, I’ve been driving with my windows down, blasting music, mostly songs about feeling lonely, sad or about wishing for love. You know, “Modern Loneliness” or “Sad Forever” by Lauv or “Dive” by Ed Sheeran. I secretly hope that someone will shout out to me, saying they like my music and that we should hang out. I do have friends, but I miss meeting new people and getting to know them, while getting to know myself more at the same time. I miss that moment when handshakes turns into hugs, and names turn into nicknames. I always remember the first time someone calls me “Zo.” Mostly, though, I miss touch and attention.

It’s hard right now, for so many reasons. It’s hard to grieve people killed for reasons that make less than no sense, to grieve normalcy and touch and the job I would have been starting soon, had things gone as planned (they rarely do). It’s hard to grieve in general but even harder without a warm hug or a supportive pat on the back from friends or family.

I thrive off of touch, off the electricity I feel when my hand grasps the hand of the cute boy from school on our first date at the movies, or when I cuddle with my best friend on her couch and she falls asleep so I have to sneak out so she doesn’t wake up. I’m going to see my Grandmom in Philly soon, and I can’t even hug her. I can’t hug my favorite lovely lady on Earth, who lost her husband, my Grandpop, not even a year ago. She probably hasn’t hugged anyone in 4 months. Then again, neither have I, besides when I “hug” my sister and she doesn’t hug me back (she doesn’t always like to be touched) or when I remind my dad “I am moving to LA for good” so he agrees to wrap his arms around his little girl quickly, one more time for now.

Zoe Brown

I started watching “When Harry Met Sally” the other day and in the very start, there’s a make out scene. It’s a closeup of two people making out in a park and it looked so gross to me that I didn’t keep watching the movie that night. Kissing seems gross to me. I have probably kissed a hundred boys at this point, and I don’t think I ever want to kiss one again. Maybe that’s dramatic, but I guess it’s just so clear to me right now, because I’ve had to be so careful about germs, that it is GROSS. Swiveling your tongue around in the inside of a random person’s dirty mouth, ew!

But at the same time, I can’t wait to kiss again. I can’t wait to see that look in his eyes and know that he’s about to place his soft lips on mine, or on my cheek and the creases of my neck. And it doesn’t seem so gross after all.

I don’t even know when that will happen, or with who. I know who I want it to happen with. I want to kiss Him again. I capitalized the H in Him when I wrote this without even thinking about it, as if he is God or something. He is most definitely not God, so maybe I should demote him to the lowercase “him,” to just an Angel instead, or maybe a demi-God, in my mind at least.

I imagine him next to me sometimes, like when I’m alone reading on a chair at the beach or driving to pick up food. I hope that doesn’t sound too sad or weird and I especially hope it doesn’t sound creepy. I just miss him, and I feel like I don’t even deserve to miss him. I don’t know him that well after all and I’m sure he doesn’t miss me. Why do I get to miss him? But then again, I also miss the smell of my best friend’s hair, the taste of buttery movie theater popcorn, and the sound of pen on paper and professors lecturing about whatever it is I used to learn in school.

So why can’t I miss him? Who am I to tell myself who I can and cannot miss? I mean, at least I’m not missing that other him (definitely lowercase), the one who stomped on my heart like he was killing a spider in the shower, with intention and no regrets.

I miss my favorite writer, Marina Keegan. I never even knew her, besides through her writing. She was 22 when she died, right after she graduated from Yale. In one of her spoken word poetry sets, she said “I want to have time to be in love with everything.” I do, too. I want to hug my best friend when I go to her house to congratulate her on getting her first job. I want to high-five my friend’s mom after we run a solid two miles together in the New England heat. I want to look next to me and actually see him, and give his hand a quick squeeze to let him know I’m glad that I’m not only imaging him next to me anymore.

Zoe Brown, browsing at The Last Bookstore iin Santa Monica.

I want to be in love with my country, my home, this beautiful Earth. I definitely am not right now. I am proud of so much of the effort from everyone, to better themselves and fight for justice with racism, police brutality, and everything else that’s so fucked up in America. I am not proud of my President. I am proud of the Supreme Court, for its ruling to protect LGBTQ+ people in the workplace. I am not proud of the police. I am proud of myself, for selling postcards to raise money to support black emotional and mental health. I am not proud of my friends who are not taking this pandemic seriously. I am proud of my friends and those who are taking it seriously and the doctors who are fighting to save people and create a vaccine. I am proud of the people who stand back up over and over again after being shoved down repeatedly, because as long as they keep standing, they keep winning.

I am glad to be alive, but I am also sad and uncomfortable. It feels like I was living on a rug on top of a bunch of spikes and someone ripped the rug right out from beneath me. Now I live standing on the spikes, so I have to be careful of my every step but no matter how I stand, it always kind of hurts.

I know that the rug will be replaced one day, and I am hopeful that it will be a better rug, too, one made with more care, respect and understanding than the last.

I hope that this world becomes better because of everything it’s going through. I know I’ve become better because of my struggles. Even though I am hurting now, I am hopeful that the world we live in will come out of this a stronger, brighter, and better one.

(To read more of Zoe Brown’s blog, click here.)

Zoe Brown, hiking in the Los Angeles hills.

 

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