All but seven members of the Conservative caucus voted last Wednesday night against Bill C-398 — Quebec NDP MP Hélène Laverdière’s private member’s bill that aimed to correct Canada’s flawed Access to Medicines Regime (CAMR) — sending it to defeat.
Astute observers recognize that, while CAMR 2.0 was an improvement over its predecessor (a similar draft, Bill C-393, passed the House in March 2011 but died on the Senate’s order paper before Parliament was dissolved for the 2011 federal election), it was far from perfect. Yet activists have cried foul, accusing the government of obstreperous cruelty. The reality is more complex.
Canadian generic drug manufacturers face a considerable competitive disadvantage when it comes to the cost of manufacturing medicines. A highly-competitive international market exists for the supply of cheap, generic drugs from developing countries like India, China, Bangladesh and Sudan.
Incentives, like the proposed “one-license solution,” might have invited greater economies of scale and lower production costs, but this wouldn’t necessarily have made Canadian companies more competitive than their rivals — a legitimate concern when contemplating adjustments to the patent protections enjoyed by our brand-name pharmaceutical companies.
Putting these qualifiers aside, let’s say that Bill C-398 would have provided developing countries with more high-quality, lifesaving, Canadian-manufactured generic drugs. Most parties will agree this is good.
But one argument has been absent from this debate: By blocking the legislation, the Conservatives missed an opportunity to promote their “tough on crime” agenda.
Let me explain: I spent much of the past several months tracking down fake and substandard medicines in East Africa and Southeast Asia. Some of the drugs that infiltrate porous borders in these institutionally-weak and poorly-regulated markets are bad by most objective standards; others may only have become bad due to poor environmental storage conditions and practices. Where the former are being produced by unsophisticated, opportunistic hacks, transnational organized criminals increasingly are entering this dangerous space.
In South Sudan, for example, where health systems are extraordinarily fragile, a quick jaunt through any market where drugs are sold reveals the ubiquitous presence of Coartem, the artemisinin-based combination treatment for the uncomplicated strains of malaria found throughout large swathes of the African and Asian sub-continents. Coartem is supplied without profit by Novartis, the Swiss-based pharmaceutical giant — a similar move, one presumes, to the generous donations our own brand-name pharmaceutical companies are in the habit of making.
There’s just one problem: These medicines, intended for public health facilities where drugs and services should be free, are almost always stolen from their intended recipients and diverted to private stores, where they are then sold at marked-up rates most South Sudanese struggle to afford. Companies like Novartis owe no obligation to guarantee their donations are distributed into the hands of their presumed beneficiaries once the goods are transferred to relevant authorities. Yet the benevolent impact of their largesse is being lost.
Of course, there was no suggestion that Bill C-398’s purpose was to obviate this particular concern. But even where access to medicines is a lesser problem, there is a notable absence of high-quality generic drugs, something that Canadian manufacturers may have been able to rectify with improved incentives and less red tape.
Yes, despite the undeserved bad rap that all developing country-manufactured generics are fake, falsified, or substandard, it certainly is possible to purchase high-quality generic medicines. But the often-higher manufacturing standards Canadian pharmaceuticals are held to means there should be substantial appetite for our drugs, and more confidence in the authenticity of our products. Furthermore, the availability and supply of these superior medicines could actually help crowd out the market for poorer-quality substitutes.
Having established a net-benefit through the promotion of increased medicines-access and pharmacovigilance, it becomes difficult to rationalize the Conservative opposition to Bill C-398’s proposed legislation.
This bill wasn’t the fix-all promised. But, in fighting it, the Conservatives have unequivocally said “no” to reforms that wouldn’t have cost taxpayers a dime; may have improved the international competitiveness of our generic manufacturers; could have increased poor countries’ access to our quality, lifesaving medicines; and might have put a dent in the market for dangerous alternatives. Despite the “ifs,” this still was bad politics.
Enayut, 23 at the time of the shooting, joined the Afghan army in 2006. An expert in disarming bombs, he had a history of going AWOL and receiving no punishment for it. U.S. investigators found that he had slipped away for an unauthorized visit to Pakistan just weeks before the attack.
Investigators were unable to pin down identifying information about the other shooter, although it appeared he also was a soldier and was probably a member of Enayut’s unit, the 4th Battalion, 1st Brigade, 205th Corps. LeVan said both wore Afghan army uniforms in the attack.
In a two-sentence statement the next day, the U.S.-led military command in Kabul said two service members had been killed in an “insurgent attack.” A day later, in identifying Lawrence and Russell as the casualties, the Pentagon reported that “enemy forces” killed them.
The Army’s investigation records show that U.S. officials in Afghanistan were told immediately after the assault that it was perpetrated by one or more Afghan soldiers — not insurgents.
“Yes, we know the shooter,” the Afghan army liaison officer told Lt. Col. John Cook, the commander of Lawrence’s and Russell’s unit, after being summoned back to the compound just moments after the killings. The Afghan officer named Enayut without hesitation.
Asked why its Oct. 9 report was never corrected, the international military command in Kabul said it knew that at least one of the shooters was wearing an Afghan army uniform, “but as that information was unconfirmed, a correction to the original (press) release was not appropriate.”
In April the AP was alerted to the attack’s true circumstances by an American soldier who knew the real story. The U.S. military in Kabul acknowledged to the AP in May that it had added the incident to its 2011 list of insider attacks. But it refused to provide any details of what happened.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Red Springs legends
In the early hours of Dec. 16, 1943, doctors from Red Springs, N.C., raced to an overpass near Rennert, where North Carolina’s deadliest train wreck had just occurred. They were joined by medical personnel from across the region attempting to rescue and treat as many as possible.
Working alongside the doctors was 15-year-old Charles Johnson Jr., son of Dr. Charles Johnson Sr., one of Red Springs’ four resident physicians. Had there been time to notice a teenager in their midst, nobody would have been concerned. They knew young Charles from earliest childhood to be at his father’s side in the office, on house calls and around town.
“It was a terrible night,” he recalls. “It was so cold the syringes froze.” Many of the 72 dead were servicemen traveling home for the holidays.
For Charles Jr., the memory of that horrific emergency blends with countless other calls his father took at all hours. “Dad worked seven days a week. It was taken for granted that he would come when called,” and often the son went too. This is a prevailing memory and one of several stories Charles and his wife Dare shared of their lives in the small town of Red Springs.
Born in 1928 in the family home on Red Springs’ South Main Street, Johnson took his place in the community naturally, attending public schools, pitching in with chores and helping Dad on the job. “There was nothing unusual about it,” he recalled. “It was just taken for granted.”
“Dad was raised on a farm and for many years we kept two cows, chickens and a garden.” It fell to Charles, the oldest son and second oldest of four children, to milk the cows and clean the chicken house every Saturday morning. “We used the manure in mother’s prize rose garden,” he said. “We used everything. It’s true that kids used dried cow paddies to mark bases for ball games.”
As he grew older, he passed some household chores to his siblings and took “real” jobs at Garret-McNeill Grocery, Graham’s department store and Red Springs Drugs.
During those years, Red Springs’ four doctors — Henry H. Hodgen, Sr., John Bender, Roscoe McMillian and Charles Johnson Sr. — stayed busy in a town that flourished with mills, a strong agricultural base and Flora Macdonald College.
World War II demanded that Johnson rethink his education. He left Red Springs High School in grade 10 and entered Wake Forest University having first passed required exams. After a semester, he transferred to Duke, earning his bacholor’s degree in 1948.
At Jefferson Medical College in Philadelphia, where his father had studied, he earned his doctorate in 1953. A one-year internship at Raleigh’s Rex Hospital in 1954 was followed by two years as a captain in the Air Force, serving as medical officer and base surgeon at Ramstein Air Base in Germany, where he received the Commendation Ribbon for Meritorious Service and then on to a one-year residency at the Medical College of Virginia.
In Richmond, friends Becky and Dave Hill introduced him to Virginia Dare Peace. The relationship began with Johnson asking three important questions: Did she have a car, an apartment, and a blender? The answers were yes, yes, and yes, although she later admitted to running out to buy a blender.
Dare Peace grew up in rural New Kent, a small community east of Richmond, the only child of a farmer father and schoolteacher mother. Valedictorian in 1952, she attended Randolph-Macon Women’s College in Lynchburg, Va., for two years before transferring to UNC Chapel Hill to study the new field of medical technology, graduating in 1956. By the second half of that year, she too was at the Medical College of Virginia, earning a second bachelor’s degree in 1957.
The romance flourished despite heavy work and study schedules. In July 1957, Johnson returned to Red Springs to join his father in practice, but only a few months later returned to Richmond to propose. With little time for wedding preparations, the senior Johnsons gave the young couple a house on East Third Avenue and Johnson headed for Conway, S.C. with his friend Glenn Overton, who had a friend who owned a furniture store. Johnson drove home with a truck full of furniture, none of which Dare saw until after it was in the house.
Meanwhile, with help from family, Dare planned a Dec. 27 wedding at Broad Street Methodist Church in Richmond and a reception at the Jefferson Hotel. Because Duke was playing in the Orange Bowl in Miami that year, the newlyweds honeymooned in Florida.
The pace at which Charles and Dare managed their busy pre-marriage lives set the tempo for the life that followed.
Red Springs in 1958 was the quintessential southern small town. For the doctor’s new bride, life meant establishing membership in virtually every community organization, most of which promoted activities that contributed to the town’s well-being.
Dare’s mother-in-law, Myrtis Elise Dukes Johnson, daughter of a Methodist minister and an active participant in the town’s life, introduced her daughter-in-law at each meeting and to neighbors Isabelle Buie, Nan Bullock and Helen Buie, “who knew everyone and everything” in Red Springs.
“Mrs. Johnson hosted a reception for me,” says Dare, who remembers Red Springs as a very social town with frequent parties and dinners. “Everyone was very welcoming. I felt like I belonged here,” she said. “I wasn’t here any time at all before I was busy with projects and met many people.”
Most of the organizations and clubs that Dare joined in 1958 she continues in today, and typically she has held their various offices several times over. A few are the Robeson County Medical Auxiliary, Red Springs Garden Club, Dilettante Book Club, Robeson County Cotillion and the circles of Red Springs Presbyterian Church.
She also kept house and helped a husband who worked seven days a week, including Sunday afternoons. After church and Sunday lunch at the senior Johnsons’ home, the two doctors went to the office for whatever length of time was required.
Johnson had fallen into step with his father, accepting patients with varied needs and a wide range of payment plans, including hams, possum stews and freshly harvested vegetables. The practice served everyone, regardless of race or age, although the separation of waiting rooms for white and non-white patients continued when Charles joined his father. But, he emphasized, “We made house calls to all patients.”
With two Dr. Charles Johnsons on staff, some differentiation was called for. “Patients usually referred to us as Old Dr. Johnson and Young Dr. Johnson,” he explained, adding that nurse Emma Breeden settled on calling his father “the real Dr. Johnson.”
In April 1959 the young family welcomed daughter Elise (now Virginia Elise Johnson McMillan). Busy as usual, Johnson took Dare to the Lumberton hospital, dropped her off and raced to Scotland County to deliver a baby before returning to Lumberton to meet his new daughter. Her birth strengthened his commitment to the town, and he registered to run for the Red Springs Board of Education that very day.
Working alongside the doctors was 15-year-old Charles Johnson Jr., son of Dr. Charles Johnson Sr., one of Red Springs’ four resident physicians. Had there been time to notice a teenager in their midst, nobody would have been concerned. They knew young Charles from earliest childhood to be at his father’s side in the office, on house calls and around town.
“It was a terrible night,” he recalls. “It was so cold the syringes froze.” Many of the 72 dead were servicemen traveling home for the holidays.
For Charles Jr., the memory of that horrific emergency blends with countless other calls his father took at all hours. “Dad worked seven days a week. It was taken for granted that he would come when called,” and often the son went too. This is a prevailing memory and one of several stories Charles and his wife Dare shared of their lives in the small town of Red Springs.
Born in 1928 in the family home on Red Springs’ South Main Street, Johnson took his place in the community naturally, attending public schools, pitching in with chores and helping Dad on the job. “There was nothing unusual about it,” he recalled. “It was just taken for granted.”
“Dad was raised on a farm and for many years we kept two cows, chickens and a garden.” It fell to Charles, the oldest son and second oldest of four children, to milk the cows and clean the chicken house every Saturday morning. “We used the manure in mother’s prize rose garden,” he said. “We used everything. It’s true that kids used dried cow paddies to mark bases for ball games.”
As he grew older, he passed some household chores to his siblings and took “real” jobs at Garret-McNeill Grocery, Graham’s department store and Red Springs Drugs.
During those years, Red Springs’ four doctors — Henry H. Hodgen, Sr., John Bender, Roscoe McMillian and Charles Johnson Sr. — stayed busy in a town that flourished with mills, a strong agricultural base and Flora Macdonald College.
World War II demanded that Johnson rethink his education. He left Red Springs High School in grade 10 and entered Wake Forest University having first passed required exams. After a semester, he transferred to Duke, earning his bacholor’s degree in 1948.
At Jefferson Medical College in Philadelphia, where his father had studied, he earned his doctorate in 1953. A one-year internship at Raleigh’s Rex Hospital in 1954 was followed by two years as a captain in the Air Force, serving as medical officer and base surgeon at Ramstein Air Base in Germany, where he received the Commendation Ribbon for Meritorious Service and then on to a one-year residency at the Medical College of Virginia.
In Richmond, friends Becky and Dave Hill introduced him to Virginia Dare Peace. The relationship began with Johnson asking three important questions: Did she have a car, an apartment, and a blender? The answers were yes, yes, and yes, although she later admitted to running out to buy a blender.
Dare Peace grew up in rural New Kent, a small community east of Richmond, the only child of a farmer father and schoolteacher mother. Valedictorian in 1952, she attended Randolph-Macon Women’s College in Lynchburg, Va., for two years before transferring to UNC Chapel Hill to study the new field of medical technology, graduating in 1956. By the second half of that year, she too was at the Medical College of Virginia, earning a second bachelor’s degree in 1957.
The romance flourished despite heavy work and study schedules. In July 1957, Johnson returned to Red Springs to join his father in practice, but only a few months later returned to Richmond to propose. With little time for wedding preparations, the senior Johnsons gave the young couple a house on East Third Avenue and Johnson headed for Conway, S.C. with his friend Glenn Overton, who had a friend who owned a furniture store. Johnson drove home with a truck full of furniture, none of which Dare saw until after it was in the house.
Meanwhile, with help from family, Dare planned a Dec. 27 wedding at Broad Street Methodist Church in Richmond and a reception at the Jefferson Hotel. Because Duke was playing in the Orange Bowl in Miami that year, the newlyweds honeymooned in Florida.
The pace at which Charles and Dare managed their busy pre-marriage lives set the tempo for the life that followed.
Red Springs in 1958 was the quintessential southern small town. For the doctor’s new bride, life meant establishing membership in virtually every community organization, most of which promoted activities that contributed to the town’s well-being.
Dare’s mother-in-law, Myrtis Elise Dukes Johnson, daughter of a Methodist minister and an active participant in the town’s life, introduced her daughter-in-law at each meeting and to neighbors Isabelle Buie, Nan Bullock and Helen Buie, “who knew everyone and everything” in Red Springs.
“Mrs. Johnson hosted a reception for me,” says Dare, who remembers Red Springs as a very social town with frequent parties and dinners. “Everyone was very welcoming. I felt like I belonged here,” she said. “I wasn’t here any time at all before I was busy with projects and met many people.”
Most of the organizations and clubs that Dare joined in 1958 she continues in today, and typically she has held their various offices several times over. A few are the Robeson County Medical Auxiliary, Red Springs Garden Club, Dilettante Book Club, Robeson County Cotillion and the circles of Red Springs Presbyterian Church.
She also kept house and helped a husband who worked seven days a week, including Sunday afternoons. After church and Sunday lunch at the senior Johnsons’ home, the two doctors went to the office for whatever length of time was required.
Johnson had fallen into step with his father, accepting patients with varied needs and a wide range of payment plans, including hams, possum stews and freshly harvested vegetables. The practice served everyone, regardless of race or age, although the separation of waiting rooms for white and non-white patients continued when Charles joined his father. But, he emphasized, “We made house calls to all patients.”
With two Dr. Charles Johnsons on staff, some differentiation was called for. “Patients usually referred to us as Old Dr. Johnson and Young Dr. Johnson,” he explained, adding that nurse Emma Breeden settled on calling his father “the real Dr. Johnson.”
In April 1959 the young family welcomed daughter Elise (now Virginia Elise Johnson McMillan). Busy as usual, Johnson took Dare to the Lumberton hospital, dropped her off and raced to Scotland County to deliver a baby before returning to Lumberton to meet his new daughter. Her birth strengthened his commitment to the town, and he registered to run for the Red Springs Board of Education that very day.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Midwives see growth curve for birthing options
The sacred rite of giving birth has seen its share of changes over the centuries, most of them packed into the last half-century or so.
By the 1950s, the days of calling in the local midwife came to be seen as both arcane and dangerous. Women were rushed to the hospital to give birth while strapped to a gurney. Waiting around for baby to arrive in its own sweet time became a thing of the past, as sedation and forceps sped things along.
Most modern hospitals now offer a completely different birth experience — more gentle, more comfortable and more in tune with the needs of the woman having the baby. Bonner General Hospital would be a prime example, with its family-centered maternity unit, where babies stay with mom after birth and there’s even room for dad to spend the night.
Moving along on a separate track has been the role of midwives in the modern world. Not terribly long ago — the 1970s, to be exact — they had to provide their service in secret in places like California, where it was against the law to assist in an out-of-hospital birth.
In Bonner County, where midwifery has been a popular option for more than 30 years, there are now at least six midwives available for assisting in the birthing process. Just as hospitals have shifted, philosophically, midwives have made some moves of their own.
Denise Midstokke was one of those California midwives whose work was cloaked in secrecy before moving to North Idaho in 1985.
“At the time, midwifery was just trying to put together a process of certification,” she said, adding that education, training and testing to meet national standards all fell under the certification procedures. Two years ago, legislation was passed in Idaho — “pushed through,” as Midstokke describes it — to allow midwives to be licensed.
“We wanted to do it because there was some noise that they were going to try and make out-of-hospital births illegal in Idaho,” she said.
That would have been a decision that flew in the face of popular opinion in places like Bonner County, which last year saw a 25 percent increase in out-of-hospital births over the past year at Midstokke’s Sandpoint-based Pend Oreille Midwifery Services offices. According to the midwife, the increase is part of a national trend.
“I had been doing about 45 births a year,” she said. “Last year, I did 60.”
Much of that increase has been due to the birth center at Pend Oreille Midwifery Services, which, with its location just minutes from the hospital, offers a more conservative option to home birth. There, too, however, midwives have seen growth in the number of families who want the experience to take place in familiar surroundings.
“A lot of people come up here to get back to the land and midwifery is seen as part of that movement,” Midstokke said, pointing out that “home” can mean different things to different people. “As midwives, we do births everywhere. I’ve done them in places with dirt floors, in tipis, trailers, yurts and school buses.
“I tease that I haven’t done one in a finished house yet.”
Emily Baker, another licensed midwife serving the local area, recently returned to the practice after having a baby of her own.
Her experience also points to heightened interest, especially with the advent of birth centers as an alternative to having a baby at home.
“I think that any midwife with a birth center will tell you that she sees an increase in families choosing that option,” said Baker.
“Word of mouth is a powerful promoter and the more women who have positive out-of-hospital birth experiences, the more women we see coming to inquire about our care as midwives.”
What they find in many cases is an environment where traditional approaches to birth have linked up with modern technology. Licensing also has changed the landscape for midwives, Midstokke noted.
“There’s a real sweetness to the traditions of midwifery,” she said. “But as we license each other, we face a different set of circumstances.
“Things have changed,” she added. “Now, we’ve become so medical that the question is: Are we becoming ‘med’-wives?”
At Pend Oreille Midwifery Services, pre-natal care includes lab work and ultrasound checkups — though the latter was added to satisfy parental curiosity as much as to provide early warnings for things such as cleft palates, heart problems, spinal bifida or organ development.
“More people are interested in wanting to know the sex of the baby than in the value of a medical ultrasound,” Midstokke said.
Baker agrees that licensing has changed things, but believes the basic principles of midwifery have stayed the same.
“There are some more specific guidelines we have to follow, but, essentially, I don’t think it changes the way we provide our service at its core,” she said. “We still provide women with the opportunity to birth their babies safely and naturally in a supportive environment — and licensing doesn’t change that.”
In stark contrast to California in the 1970s, Sandpoint had at least one general practitioner who provided home deliveries during that time, often working alongside one of the local midwives.
Those days are gone, as “GPs” have stepped away from births due to the potential of malpractice suits, according to Midstokke. Obstetricians, whose qualifications make them an obvious provider for care before, during and after pregnancy, have filled the gap.
The relationship between midwives and “OBs” is positive, both Baker and Midstokke said, though they say the doctors would prefer that women give birth in the hospital setting, in case something went wrong.
Therein lies the fundamental difference in philosophy between traditional midwives and traditional medicine.
“Our philosophy is that we’re going to think everything is OK until you prove that it’s not,” Midstokke said.
“There is a bit of philosophical difference between medicine and midwifery, but the two are, at times, overlapping,” said Baker. “I think that we will see, in the future, a greater benefit from and need for collaboration between the two. There is no reason they should be mutually exclusive — I think there is potential for a symbiosis, a system where all parties feel there is a good balance and benefit from having both medicine and midwifery available in the community.”
The decision to give birth at home or in a birth center, as opposed to the hospital setting, requires considerably more responsibility on the part of mothers, in particular, as they become the key player on a team whose goal is to deliver a healthy baby.
By the 1950s, the days of calling in the local midwife came to be seen as both arcane and dangerous. Women were rushed to the hospital to give birth while strapped to a gurney. Waiting around for baby to arrive in its own sweet time became a thing of the past, as sedation and forceps sped things along.
Most modern hospitals now offer a completely different birth experience — more gentle, more comfortable and more in tune with the needs of the woman having the baby. Bonner General Hospital would be a prime example, with its family-centered maternity unit, where babies stay with mom after birth and there’s even room for dad to spend the night.
Moving along on a separate track has been the role of midwives in the modern world. Not terribly long ago — the 1970s, to be exact — they had to provide their service in secret in places like California, where it was against the law to assist in an out-of-hospital birth.
In Bonner County, where midwifery has been a popular option for more than 30 years, there are now at least six midwives available for assisting in the birthing process. Just as hospitals have shifted, philosophically, midwives have made some moves of their own.
Denise Midstokke was one of those California midwives whose work was cloaked in secrecy before moving to North Idaho in 1985.
“At the time, midwifery was just trying to put together a process of certification,” she said, adding that education, training and testing to meet national standards all fell under the certification procedures. Two years ago, legislation was passed in Idaho — “pushed through,” as Midstokke describes it — to allow midwives to be licensed.
“We wanted to do it because there was some noise that they were going to try and make out-of-hospital births illegal in Idaho,” she said.
That would have been a decision that flew in the face of popular opinion in places like Bonner County, which last year saw a 25 percent increase in out-of-hospital births over the past year at Midstokke’s Sandpoint-based Pend Oreille Midwifery Services offices. According to the midwife, the increase is part of a national trend.
“I had been doing about 45 births a year,” she said. “Last year, I did 60.”
Much of that increase has been due to the birth center at Pend Oreille Midwifery Services, which, with its location just minutes from the hospital, offers a more conservative option to home birth. There, too, however, midwives have seen growth in the number of families who want the experience to take place in familiar surroundings.
“A lot of people come up here to get back to the land and midwifery is seen as part of that movement,” Midstokke said, pointing out that “home” can mean different things to different people. “As midwives, we do births everywhere. I’ve done them in places with dirt floors, in tipis, trailers, yurts and school buses.
“I tease that I haven’t done one in a finished house yet.”
Emily Baker, another licensed midwife serving the local area, recently returned to the practice after having a baby of her own.
Her experience also points to heightened interest, especially with the advent of birth centers as an alternative to having a baby at home.
“I think that any midwife with a birth center will tell you that she sees an increase in families choosing that option,” said Baker.
“Word of mouth is a powerful promoter and the more women who have positive out-of-hospital birth experiences, the more women we see coming to inquire about our care as midwives.”
What they find in many cases is an environment where traditional approaches to birth have linked up with modern technology. Licensing also has changed the landscape for midwives, Midstokke noted.
“There’s a real sweetness to the traditions of midwifery,” she said. “But as we license each other, we face a different set of circumstances.
“Things have changed,” she added. “Now, we’ve become so medical that the question is: Are we becoming ‘med’-wives?”
At Pend Oreille Midwifery Services, pre-natal care includes lab work and ultrasound checkups — though the latter was added to satisfy parental curiosity as much as to provide early warnings for things such as cleft palates, heart problems, spinal bifida or organ development.
“More people are interested in wanting to know the sex of the baby than in the value of a medical ultrasound,” Midstokke said.
Baker agrees that licensing has changed things, but believes the basic principles of midwifery have stayed the same.
“There are some more specific guidelines we have to follow, but, essentially, I don’t think it changes the way we provide our service at its core,” she said. “We still provide women with the opportunity to birth their babies safely and naturally in a supportive environment — and licensing doesn’t change that.”
In stark contrast to California in the 1970s, Sandpoint had at least one general practitioner who provided home deliveries during that time, often working alongside one of the local midwives.
Those days are gone, as “GPs” have stepped away from births due to the potential of malpractice suits, according to Midstokke. Obstetricians, whose qualifications make them an obvious provider for care before, during and after pregnancy, have filled the gap.
The relationship between midwives and “OBs” is positive, both Baker and Midstokke said, though they say the doctors would prefer that women give birth in the hospital setting, in case something went wrong.
Therein lies the fundamental difference in philosophy between traditional midwives and traditional medicine.
“Our philosophy is that we’re going to think everything is OK until you prove that it’s not,” Midstokke said.
“There is a bit of philosophical difference between medicine and midwifery, but the two are, at times, overlapping,” said Baker. “I think that we will see, in the future, a greater benefit from and need for collaboration between the two. There is no reason they should be mutually exclusive — I think there is potential for a symbiosis, a system where all parties feel there is a good balance and benefit from having both medicine and midwifery available in the community.”
The decision to give birth at home or in a birth center, as opposed to the hospital setting, requires considerably more responsibility on the part of mothers, in particular, as they become the key player on a team whose goal is to deliver a healthy baby.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
How to Use Tracking Technology to React to Attendee Behavior
Wi-Fi, sensors, radio-frequency identification, and other technologies are creating new opportunities for planners to track and respond to attendee behavior at events such as trade shows and conventions. Control Group is a technology firm that has worked with clients such as Chevron and Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week to design interactive, data-driven experiences.
“The opportunity to do something at an event that is extremely original, distinctive, and that is also sensitive and not overpowering is more available now than it has ever been. That is due to the emergence and consumerization of some really great sensing and communication technology,” said Control Group C.E.O. Campbell Hyers. “Your competition is not just other events and other booths. Your competition is hotels, cruise lines, retail stores, the home—places people are being wowed all the time by what we call magic.”
Control Group demonstrated this capability at the O’Reilly Where Conference in April. The company built a Wi-Fi network to capture real-time location patterns of attendees through their Wi-Fi-enabled devices. The data indicated the types and concentration of devices in the room at any given moment, for example indicating the booths that attracted the most people. “The purpose was to allow people at that conference who are interested in proximity marketing and intelligence to have a conversation about what it means to have that sort of information,” said Hyers. This type of tracking can also be used to make the space and signage react differently based on a person’s movement. “If I am returning to a space that [has], let’s say a display screen, it would be good if you didn’t repeat what I had previously experienced. There’s knowledge that can be gained from knowing you have a returning person. For example, to let the booth manager know, ‘Hey somebody is here for a second time. You should seek them out,’” said Hyers.
At the World Petroleum Conference in Qatar last December, Control Group created a 12- by 80-foot interactive display wall for Chevron. “Rather than creating a whole bunch of touch-screen interfaces—honestly, I think there is too much of that in the industry—there was an infrared sensor that could detect when [attendees] were walking and when they stopped. And when they stopped, materials start to present themselves on the screen. If the person leans forward to the screen, the material further unveils itself. [It's] almost turning your body into the point-and-click device,” said Hyers. The technology is transparent to the attendees, which is the most effective way to use it. “Do not try to make someone learn a new interface to interact with your communications effort. Allow them to do the most natural thing they do in order to get access to your message or product,” said Hyers.
Sensors can provide data on what people are touching and holding, and that data can trigger the type of information presented within that display. “For example, it’s a vacuum cleaner [display]. If you see a lot of people are giving it a subtle shake to check its weight, you learn a little bit about the sales process. That is an opportunity to pull something up on the screen that provides more information about weight,” said Hyers.
Hyers stressed that these are just three examples. Tracking and motion-sensor systems are constantly evolving and therefore planners should “forget about what the technology can do. Instead figure out what you need to do. Then turn to a deep set of resources to achieve your ambition,” he said. The overall goal when integrating this type of technology into an event should be to provide a service not just a stunt. “Your event can provide an exchange where people can leverage some of these interactive technologies to learn and experience something new versus just having some crazy effect on a screen that looks cool and makes people feel silly. There’s a distinction there. Try to create an interaction that provides value to both parties,” he said.
Tracking systems can raise concerns about privacy, and these solutions can be developed with or without opt-in parameters, depending on the needs of the event. “Privacy is different for every audience. The way you need to reflect your consideration of privacy at a legal conference may be much different than at a gaming conference. Your products are successful because you have insight into your audience. It’s incumbent upon you to know, as Facebook calls it, where the ‘creepy’ line is and to work around that,” said Hyers.
One of the biggest challenges for everyday users of information is the explosion of content that is available to people. Content comes from the Internet, internal document management systems, and even across multiple network file servers and local files on personal computers. For everyday users, finding a way of getting access to the right information from this mess of content is a major challenge. Finding a systematic way to help these people understand what is good content across the organization and helping users get access not just to the entire set of content but to content organized for their use in a specific situation is pivotal to increasing organizational agility and productivity.
BTC has created a tool that understands the behavior of users, measuring every interaction with content – how they use it, share it, edit it, and more. Called ContentIQ, BTC’s system lets the organization and the users themselves immediately understand the value of content with a richly based but simple “content score” along with user scores and a social badging system that everybody enjoys using. Once the content is added to the system, the client device reports back to centralized data store information about content usage, including but not limited to – which user uses which piece of content, what pages of a document are viewed, how long a document is viewed, if the content is forwarded or shared within or from the system, what rating a series of users gave the content, comments made on the content by a series of users, what time of day the content was used and which location the content was used from and a range of other potential factors influencing the use of the content.
The server can create calculated sets of information referring to content that has been added to the system that a user – or set of users – would find relevant to their work or personal interest needs. The relevance of the content is determined by analyzing a number of factors from the data obtained from the external device including: how others in a similar group have used the content, how long they have used it and if they have used it in a similar or related location.
“The opportunity to do something at an event that is extremely original, distinctive, and that is also sensitive and not overpowering is more available now than it has ever been. That is due to the emergence and consumerization of some really great sensing and communication technology,” said Control Group C.E.O. Campbell Hyers. “Your competition is not just other events and other booths. Your competition is hotels, cruise lines, retail stores, the home—places people are being wowed all the time by what we call magic.”
Control Group demonstrated this capability at the O’Reilly Where Conference in April. The company built a Wi-Fi network to capture real-time location patterns of attendees through their Wi-Fi-enabled devices. The data indicated the types and concentration of devices in the room at any given moment, for example indicating the booths that attracted the most people. “The purpose was to allow people at that conference who are interested in proximity marketing and intelligence to have a conversation about what it means to have that sort of information,” said Hyers. This type of tracking can also be used to make the space and signage react differently based on a person’s movement. “If I am returning to a space that [has], let’s say a display screen, it would be good if you didn’t repeat what I had previously experienced. There’s knowledge that can be gained from knowing you have a returning person. For example, to let the booth manager know, ‘Hey somebody is here for a second time. You should seek them out,’” said Hyers.
At the World Petroleum Conference in Qatar last December, Control Group created a 12- by 80-foot interactive display wall for Chevron. “Rather than creating a whole bunch of touch-screen interfaces—honestly, I think there is too much of that in the industry—there was an infrared sensor that could detect when [attendees] were walking and when they stopped. And when they stopped, materials start to present themselves on the screen. If the person leans forward to the screen, the material further unveils itself. [It's] almost turning your body into the point-and-click device,” said Hyers. The technology is transparent to the attendees, which is the most effective way to use it. “Do not try to make someone learn a new interface to interact with your communications effort. Allow them to do the most natural thing they do in order to get access to your message or product,” said Hyers.
Sensors can provide data on what people are touching and holding, and that data can trigger the type of information presented within that display. “For example, it’s a vacuum cleaner [display]. If you see a lot of people are giving it a subtle shake to check its weight, you learn a little bit about the sales process. That is an opportunity to pull something up on the screen that provides more information about weight,” said Hyers.
Hyers stressed that these are just three examples. Tracking and motion-sensor systems are constantly evolving and therefore planners should “forget about what the technology can do. Instead figure out what you need to do. Then turn to a deep set of resources to achieve your ambition,” he said. The overall goal when integrating this type of technology into an event should be to provide a service not just a stunt. “Your event can provide an exchange where people can leverage some of these interactive technologies to learn and experience something new versus just having some crazy effect on a screen that looks cool and makes people feel silly. There’s a distinction there. Try to create an interaction that provides value to both parties,” he said.
Tracking systems can raise concerns about privacy, and these solutions can be developed with or without opt-in parameters, depending on the needs of the event. “Privacy is different for every audience. The way you need to reflect your consideration of privacy at a legal conference may be much different than at a gaming conference. Your products are successful because you have insight into your audience. It’s incumbent upon you to know, as Facebook calls it, where the ‘creepy’ line is and to work around that,” said Hyers.
One of the biggest challenges for everyday users of information is the explosion of content that is available to people. Content comes from the Internet, internal document management systems, and even across multiple network file servers and local files on personal computers. For everyday users, finding a way of getting access to the right information from this mess of content is a major challenge. Finding a systematic way to help these people understand what is good content across the organization and helping users get access not just to the entire set of content but to content organized for their use in a specific situation is pivotal to increasing organizational agility and productivity.
BTC has created a tool that understands the behavior of users, measuring every interaction with content – how they use it, share it, edit it, and more. Called ContentIQ, BTC’s system lets the organization and the users themselves immediately understand the value of content with a richly based but simple “content score” along with user scores and a social badging system that everybody enjoys using. Once the content is added to the system, the client device reports back to centralized data store information about content usage, including but not limited to – which user uses which piece of content, what pages of a document are viewed, how long a document is viewed, if the content is forwarded or shared within or from the system, what rating a series of users gave the content, comments made on the content by a series of users, what time of day the content was used and which location the content was used from and a range of other potential factors influencing the use of the content.
The server can create calculated sets of information referring to content that has been added to the system that a user – or set of users – would find relevant to their work or personal interest needs. The relevance of the content is determined by analyzing a number of factors from the data obtained from the external device including: how others in a similar group have used the content, how long they have used it and if they have used it in a similar or related location.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Natural Selection
The Real-Time Strategy elements add another, unique aspect to the experience. If you ever played the original Natural Selection (a Half-Life mod), or the recent online FPS/RTS hybrid Nuclear Dawn, the theory is basically the same. One member of your team takes the role of Commander, directing the flow of battle, building structures, and researching upgrades for your team to make use of. For example, a Marine commander can up his soldiers' armor and weapons, and eventually provide jetpacks and hulking, Avatar-style exosuits loaded with gatling guns. On the Kharaa, the Commander researches abilities for the different alien forms, and ubiquitous skills which allow each player to customize their little monster based on their playstyle. For instance, one they're both researched you can choose between Celerity to move faster, or Adrenaline to increase your energy pool for extended ability use, but not both. It probably goes without saying that your Commander can make or break any given round.
On the Marine side, you will frequently find yourself in pitch black rooms with nothing but a flashlight--and maybe a few more erratic flashlight beams from your freaked-the-hell-out teammates--to light your way. Then a skittering form creeps along the wall just outside your beam, but you lose it and its gone. You call out to your teammates, “We're not alone in here,” and all hell breaks loose. A pack of quadrupedal, zergling-like Skulks drop off the ceiling, they start biting at your ankles and scurrying around faster than you can track; a pterodactyl-esque flying Lerk swoops through the room dropping poisonous gas on you and your squad. You try to fall back, but when you turn to flee, a bipedal Fade with blades for arms appears out of a cloud of mist and cuts down your last remaining squadmate. The last thing you see is an elephant-sized Onos charging toward you.
Hopefully you can use your imagination to see that scenario from the other side, too. (The Kharaa have a toggle to switch between normal and a pseudo-infrared/thermal vision, which means zero-light conditions are beneficial for them.) You should know, going into this game, there is a bit of a learning curve for the aliens. It's a different type of gameplay than you're probably used to (unless you played a lot of Aliens vs. Predator back in the day). Once you've gotten the hang of it though, playing the Kharaa skillfully can be an extraordinarily rewarding experience--not to mention exciting to the point of adrenaline-pumping. Marine-side, things are pretty straight-forward but still very enjoyable and occasionally terrifying: shoot guns, follow orders, build the structures your Commander throws down, and try not to die.
There is a lot for a Commander to keep track of, and unlike normal RTS games, if you screw up in this one, your units will probably start trash-talking you. So it's a bit of a stressful position for someone without a fairly deep understanding of the game on both the ground- and meta-level. I wouldn't advise hopping into the Commander seat for a while, since there is a surprising amount of depth to this game which only reveals itself to you over time. Luckily, all these elements are pretty well streamlined for the Commander. Instead of name-specific hotkeys--like “A” for “[A]rmory”--all the Commander hotkeys are arrayed in a consistent, four-wide/three-tall grid on the left side of your keyboard (from “QWER” down). So once you get the hang of each building or ability's location in the menu, your left hand will barely move, allowing you focus on the battle.
Besides being fun as hell, the game is very nice to look at too. The Kharaa models are unique and just the right blend of kinda-gross and fully-rad. Overall, the player models are good but nothing you're going to be raving about. The real shine here is in the level designs. These are some incredible maps: strategically interesting and well-designed; beautiful and atmospheric; very complex, but each room is memorable enough that you'll learn them well after you put some time in. Adding to the impressiveness, the levels also work really well in multiple states, such as: infested and non-infested, full-light, low-light, and pitch-black/powered-down. Map knowledge is a big part of the skill curve here--and its even harder to get a really good feel for the levels when you are sprinting through them as a Celerity-enhanced Skulk. But each significant room on the mini-map is clearly named and labeled, and there is a HUD element that keeps you informed of what room you are in at all times.
Sound plays a big part in the strategy and skill here, so it's to Unknown Worlds Entertainment's credit that the sound design is superb. Marine boots make an easily identifiable, metal-on-metal marching noise that echos around corners, and Skulks' skittering, blade-like feet are equally recognizable. Marine welders produce a satisfying sizzle, while their structures and exo-suits make clangy, wonderfully metallic noises. Alien growls are fun and Zerg-like, their structures and skills make sickeningly organic little squeals and splashes and spits.
On the Marine side, you will frequently find yourself in pitch black rooms with nothing but a flashlight--and maybe a few more erratic flashlight beams from your freaked-the-hell-out teammates--to light your way. Then a skittering form creeps along the wall just outside your beam, but you lose it and its gone. You call out to your teammates, “We're not alone in here,” and all hell breaks loose. A pack of quadrupedal, zergling-like Skulks drop off the ceiling, they start biting at your ankles and scurrying around faster than you can track; a pterodactyl-esque flying Lerk swoops through the room dropping poisonous gas on you and your squad. You try to fall back, but when you turn to flee, a bipedal Fade with blades for arms appears out of a cloud of mist and cuts down your last remaining squadmate. The last thing you see is an elephant-sized Onos charging toward you.
Hopefully you can use your imagination to see that scenario from the other side, too. (The Kharaa have a toggle to switch between normal and a pseudo-infrared/thermal vision, which means zero-light conditions are beneficial for them.) You should know, going into this game, there is a bit of a learning curve for the aliens. It's a different type of gameplay than you're probably used to (unless you played a lot of Aliens vs. Predator back in the day). Once you've gotten the hang of it though, playing the Kharaa skillfully can be an extraordinarily rewarding experience--not to mention exciting to the point of adrenaline-pumping. Marine-side, things are pretty straight-forward but still very enjoyable and occasionally terrifying: shoot guns, follow orders, build the structures your Commander throws down, and try not to die.
There is a lot for a Commander to keep track of, and unlike normal RTS games, if you screw up in this one, your units will probably start trash-talking you. So it's a bit of a stressful position for someone without a fairly deep understanding of the game on both the ground- and meta-level. I wouldn't advise hopping into the Commander seat for a while, since there is a surprising amount of depth to this game which only reveals itself to you over time. Luckily, all these elements are pretty well streamlined for the Commander. Instead of name-specific hotkeys--like “A” for “[A]rmory”--all the Commander hotkeys are arrayed in a consistent, four-wide/three-tall grid on the left side of your keyboard (from “QWER” down). So once you get the hang of each building or ability's location in the menu, your left hand will barely move, allowing you focus on the battle.
Besides being fun as hell, the game is very nice to look at too. The Kharaa models are unique and just the right blend of kinda-gross and fully-rad. Overall, the player models are good but nothing you're going to be raving about. The real shine here is in the level designs. These are some incredible maps: strategically interesting and well-designed; beautiful and atmospheric; very complex, but each room is memorable enough that you'll learn them well after you put some time in. Adding to the impressiveness, the levels also work really well in multiple states, such as: infested and non-infested, full-light, low-light, and pitch-black/powered-down. Map knowledge is a big part of the skill curve here--and its even harder to get a really good feel for the levels when you are sprinting through them as a Celerity-enhanced Skulk. But each significant room on the mini-map is clearly named and labeled, and there is a HUD element that keeps you informed of what room you are in at all times.
Sound plays a big part in the strategy and skill here, so it's to Unknown Worlds Entertainment's credit that the sound design is superb. Marine boots make an easily identifiable, metal-on-metal marching noise that echos around corners, and Skulks' skittering, blade-like feet are equally recognizable. Marine welders produce a satisfying sizzle, while their structures and exo-suits make clangy, wonderfully metallic noises. Alien growls are fun and Zerg-like, their structures and skills make sickeningly organic little squeals and splashes and spits.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Len Testa and the Math Behind Your Theme Park Vacation
Last month GeekMom Dak reviewed Touring Plans, a website and app that helps you plan your Disney vacation and knock hours off queuing times at the theme parks. Touring Plans‘ features included crowd calendars, wait times and customisable plans that allow you to select the attractions you are interested in seeing each day before the site gives you a detailed, unique itinerary. But where does the data for such a system come from and how do you go about creating a website that can instantly produce such a detailed plan for the millions of permutations each park offers on a single day? I spoke with Len Testa, the founder of Touring Plans and co-author of The Unofficial Guide to Walt Disney World, about the mathematical side of planning your dream Disney trip.
Probably the most straightforward example of the time-dependent travelling salesman problem is the kind of scheduling that a company like FedEx or UPS has to do for one of its drivers. The company’s goal is for the driver to deliver packages to customers in different locations while minimizing the overall cost, including labor and fuel. At any point in the day, the FedEx driver has to take into account not only the distance between his current location and the next customer, but how much traffic will delay him when he’s on the road to that next customer. For example, the driver may decide to take a 4-mile detour on a rural road to get to the next customer, rather than drive a 1-mile stretch of I-95 at 5 p.m. on a Friday. The I-95 segment may be shorter, but the rural road is faster because it has less traffic. The trade-off there is slightly higher fuel cost for much lower labor costs.
After I finished my undergrad degree (also in computer science), I visited Walt Disney World the summer before I started graduate school. One day during that trip I waited in line almost two hours for the Great Movie Ride. Sometime during that wait I thought that there should be an app for minimizing your waits in line at theme parks.
I went back to my thesis advisors and discussed the problem. They proposed a literature search, which showed it was a suitably difficult problem. Once they gave their approval, I contacted Bob to see whether he’d share his data from the book.
It turned out that he was using a different approach than I was envisioning, so we didn’t get to share data. But Bob was exceptionally generous with his time, explaining how his modelling worked and what to look out for when creating a schedule for theme parks. We stayed in touch through my graduation, and I started joining Bob’s team for in-park research in 2000. Because I was spending so much time in the parks for touring plan research, I started updating other sections of the book when it needed to be done. I became co-author of the Guide in 2007.
Two things make the Unofficial Guide book, the Touring Plans website and the Lines app different: First, our research is consumer-oriented. That means that we’ll tell you in plain language whether an attraction isn’t worth your time, or a restaurant isn’t worth your money. Second, we’re a data-driven organization. Our staff consists of scientists applying their knowledge to travel problems, which is unique in the travel publishing industry. This allows us to tackle things like touring plans, which are complex scheduling problems. It turns out that there are quite a few vacation questions that can be answered through science, math and operations research. Finding the least-expensive combination of Disney admission tickets, for example, is a bin-packing problem.
The other thing that makes our app different is that we’ll estimate how long you’ll actually wait in line at a given ride at a given time of day. Every other app just tells you Disney’s posted time, or (worse) tries to estimate Disney’s posted wait time because they don’t have people in the parks feeding them data. Any theme park veteran will tell you that the wait time posted outside an attraction isn’t how long you’ll really wait. Sometimes the posted waits are set artificially high on purpose, as a form of crowd control, to get people to get in line somewhere else. Sometimes the waits are set high at the end of the day to dissuade people from getting in line, so management can close the park on schedule and keep their labor costs low. And sometimes the posted waits are too low, because the kid staffing the sign got caught up doing something else.
A lot of it is the same for any organization, including Disney. We’re looking for bright, self-directed, team-oriented people. Because we’re both writers and scientists, we probably put more emphasis than other companies on the combination of fact-based decision making and strong oral and written communication.
I spent a long time doing architecture in American Express’ technologies group prior to joining the Guide. AmEx Technologies is an excellent place for computer scientists to learn how to run a company; their leadership team is level headed and fact-based. They make their tech teams responsible for rationalizing tech investment to the business group giving the funding. You learn how to verify that your idea makes business sense and how to communicate the investment to an audience whose skills are outside of technology.
Probably the most straightforward example of the time-dependent travelling salesman problem is the kind of scheduling that a company like FedEx or UPS has to do for one of its drivers. The company’s goal is for the driver to deliver packages to customers in different locations while minimizing the overall cost, including labor and fuel. At any point in the day, the FedEx driver has to take into account not only the distance between his current location and the next customer, but how much traffic will delay him when he’s on the road to that next customer. For example, the driver may decide to take a 4-mile detour on a rural road to get to the next customer, rather than drive a 1-mile stretch of I-95 at 5 p.m. on a Friday. The I-95 segment may be shorter, but the rural road is faster because it has less traffic. The trade-off there is slightly higher fuel cost for much lower labor costs.
After I finished my undergrad degree (also in computer science), I visited Walt Disney World the summer before I started graduate school. One day during that trip I waited in line almost two hours for the Great Movie Ride. Sometime during that wait I thought that there should be an app for minimizing your waits in line at theme parks.
I went back to my thesis advisors and discussed the problem. They proposed a literature search, which showed it was a suitably difficult problem. Once they gave their approval, I contacted Bob to see whether he’d share his data from the book.
It turned out that he was using a different approach than I was envisioning, so we didn’t get to share data. But Bob was exceptionally generous with his time, explaining how his modelling worked and what to look out for when creating a schedule for theme parks. We stayed in touch through my graduation, and I started joining Bob’s team for in-park research in 2000. Because I was spending so much time in the parks for touring plan research, I started updating other sections of the book when it needed to be done. I became co-author of the Guide in 2007.
Two things make the Unofficial Guide book, the Touring Plans website and the Lines app different: First, our research is consumer-oriented. That means that we’ll tell you in plain language whether an attraction isn’t worth your time, or a restaurant isn’t worth your money. Second, we’re a data-driven organization. Our staff consists of scientists applying their knowledge to travel problems, which is unique in the travel publishing industry. This allows us to tackle things like touring plans, which are complex scheduling problems. It turns out that there are quite a few vacation questions that can be answered through science, math and operations research. Finding the least-expensive combination of Disney admission tickets, for example, is a bin-packing problem.
The other thing that makes our app different is that we’ll estimate how long you’ll actually wait in line at a given ride at a given time of day. Every other app just tells you Disney’s posted time, or (worse) tries to estimate Disney’s posted wait time because they don’t have people in the parks feeding them data. Any theme park veteran will tell you that the wait time posted outside an attraction isn’t how long you’ll really wait. Sometimes the posted waits are set artificially high on purpose, as a form of crowd control, to get people to get in line somewhere else. Sometimes the waits are set high at the end of the day to dissuade people from getting in line, so management can close the park on schedule and keep their labor costs low. And sometimes the posted waits are too low, because the kid staffing the sign got caught up doing something else.
A lot of it is the same for any organization, including Disney. We’re looking for bright, self-directed, team-oriented people. Because we’re both writers and scientists, we probably put more emphasis than other companies on the combination of fact-based decision making and strong oral and written communication.
I spent a long time doing architecture in American Express’ technologies group prior to joining the Guide. AmEx Technologies is an excellent place for computer scientists to learn how to run a company; their leadership team is level headed and fact-based. They make their tech teams responsible for rationalizing tech investment to the business group giving the funding. You learn how to verify that your idea makes business sense and how to communicate the investment to an audience whose skills are outside of technology.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Shreveport siblings visit WWII Memorial
This time Brookshire's Food and Pharmacy and subsidiary Super 1 Foods picked up the tab for Tooley, his brother, 92-year-old Ed Tooley of Shreveport, and more than 20 other men in their 80s and 90s -- all World War II veterans.
Brookshire's instituted the program in 2010 and have since taken dozens of veterans to the country's capital to visit various war memorials.
Fel Tooley found out about the program through his brother, who called him one day and asked if he'd like to make the trip. The answer was a resounding yes, and the brothers each filled out their applications.
Fel Tooley -- the youngest veteran on this trip -- was drafted just at the end of World War II. He served in the Navy from 1944 to 1945 in the hospital corps. His career was spent stationed in California. Ed Tooley was a colonel in the Air Force and stationed mainly in Burma during the war.
"The trip was outstanding," Fel Tooley said. "It would take me an hour just to explain all the things we did."
The veterans were treated like royalty from the moment their escorts -- representatives of Super 1 Foods and Brookshire's -- arrived. Causal meals, fine dining and even a 1950s-themed dinner service complete with dancers in zoot suits, thanks to the Arlington, Va., Knights of Columbus.
But the real reason for this trip and the others like it is to provide these service men and women (though no women were on the latest trip) with the opportunity to see the National World War II Memorial erected in Washington, D.C., in 2008. Other programs of this kind exist, and Brookshire's public relations manager, Sam Anderson of Tyler, Texas, where the grocery store is headquartered, said his company takes special care to select veterans who have never before seen the World War II memorial.
"It's a way to say to these veterans thank you very much for your service," Anderson said. "What I've seen on these trips is an awful amount of gratitude expressed to these veterans as they go around to different sites in D.C. It is not uncommon for people to stop them on the street and express their gratitude for the veterans' service to this country. There is still a feeling of patriotism in this country."
Once in Washington, D.C., the veterans were divided into smaller groups and provided with T-shirts, hats, jackets and wheelchairs before touring monuments and memorials.
When the groups reached the World War II Memorial, the emotions took hold.
"When we got to the memorial, they had chairs set out for us, and we had lunch right there," Fel Tooley said. "It was very moving for all of them. We were all from different branches -- there were Marines from Iwo Jima there -- they were from all over. The 'Wall of Stars' gets you more than anything."
That wall, officially titled the Freedom Wall, has 4,048 gold stars, each representing 100 Americans who died in the war.
Once home, each veteran received a packet containing photographs taken on the trip, as well as 30 or 40 letters from school children thanking the men for their service.
"If you read them, you'd just laugh and cry," Fel Tooley said.
Still, there's more to look forward to for the latest group of veterans. On Dec. 6, the group will reunite in Shreveport for a dinner hosted by Brookshire's.
"The veterans have been very, very grateful for this experience," Anderson said. "They are honored that we have provided this for them, when in reality it is actually we who are honored to do this for them."
Brookshire's instituted the program in 2010 and have since taken dozens of veterans to the country's capital to visit various war memorials.
Fel Tooley found out about the program through his brother, who called him one day and asked if he'd like to make the trip. The answer was a resounding yes, and the brothers each filled out their applications.
Fel Tooley -- the youngest veteran on this trip -- was drafted just at the end of World War II. He served in the Navy from 1944 to 1945 in the hospital corps. His career was spent stationed in California. Ed Tooley was a colonel in the Air Force and stationed mainly in Burma during the war.
"The trip was outstanding," Fel Tooley said. "It would take me an hour just to explain all the things we did."
The veterans were treated like royalty from the moment their escorts -- representatives of Super 1 Foods and Brookshire's -- arrived. Causal meals, fine dining and even a 1950s-themed dinner service complete with dancers in zoot suits, thanks to the Arlington, Va., Knights of Columbus.
But the real reason for this trip and the others like it is to provide these service men and women (though no women were on the latest trip) with the opportunity to see the National World War II Memorial erected in Washington, D.C., in 2008. Other programs of this kind exist, and Brookshire's public relations manager, Sam Anderson of Tyler, Texas, where the grocery store is headquartered, said his company takes special care to select veterans who have never before seen the World War II memorial.
"It's a way to say to these veterans thank you very much for your service," Anderson said. "What I've seen on these trips is an awful amount of gratitude expressed to these veterans as they go around to different sites in D.C. It is not uncommon for people to stop them on the street and express their gratitude for the veterans' service to this country. There is still a feeling of patriotism in this country."
Once in Washington, D.C., the veterans were divided into smaller groups and provided with T-shirts, hats, jackets and wheelchairs before touring monuments and memorials.
When the groups reached the World War II Memorial, the emotions took hold.
"When we got to the memorial, they had chairs set out for us, and we had lunch right there," Fel Tooley said. "It was very moving for all of them. We were all from different branches -- there were Marines from Iwo Jima there -- they were from all over. The 'Wall of Stars' gets you more than anything."
That wall, officially titled the Freedom Wall, has 4,048 gold stars, each representing 100 Americans who died in the war.
Once home, each veteran received a packet containing photographs taken on the trip, as well as 30 or 40 letters from school children thanking the men for their service.
"If you read them, you'd just laugh and cry," Fel Tooley said.
Still, there's more to look forward to for the latest group of veterans. On Dec. 6, the group will reunite in Shreveport for a dinner hosted by Brookshire's.
"The veterans have been very, very grateful for this experience," Anderson said. "They are honored that we have provided this for them, when in reality it is actually we who are honored to do this for them."
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