From Motherhood to Grandmotherhood, Midwife and Doula Share it All

Photo contributed by Elsa Hall

Mother’s Day promises to be a special occasion for two Atlanta moms whose teen pregnancies launched them on similar paths raising big families, starting their own businesses and helping others start their own families.

Carson Ragan was 16 when she became pregnant and married a boy she’d been with since the seventh grade. People offered to pay for her to have an abortion, others suggested she put her baby up for adoption. A home for pregnant girls was also recommended. Ragan refused all of it.

“I wanted to keep the baby, and I also insisted that I wouldn’t be a statistic,” said Ragan, 47. “I knew I wanted to contribute to my community somehow, someday, and I knew I didn’t want to depend on a man or the government.”

She and her husband moved to Marietta to live with her mother, and Ragan welcomed daughter Macauly at age 17. The following year, her second child arrived three months early, which led to a three-month stay in the ICU for newborns. Ragan was fascinated by the nurses caring for the moms and their babies. A spark ignited and Ragan knew she wanted to be a nurse in perinatal care. She enrolled at Columbus State University and graduated at age 21 with three children under 4. She went on to have a fourth child, and now has what she calls a bonus daughter with her second husband, so five kids in all.

Maegan Hall grew up in Virginia and also got married at 16. She had her first child, daughter Brianna, at age 18, and, like Ragan, was adamant that she wouldn’t fall victim to the teen mom stereotypes.

“My senior quote was, ‘I will not become a statistic,’” said Hall, 43.

Hall went on to have four more children and started a photography business specializing in taking pictures of families, children and births.

“In 2004, I was at a church event and another pregnant mom asked what I did for work. I said I photographed moms and took care of them when they gave birth, and she said ‘Oh! You’re a doula!’ I had never even heard of that name, but it felt right. Yes, I was a doula.”

Hall got certified, transitioned her business into Maegan Hall Photography + Doula Care and moved to Atlanta. As a doula, she provides emotional, physical and educational support to mothers throughout their pregnancies, during labor and after.

Ragan and Hall first met at a birth in 2006 at Northside Hospital Cherokee. Although they couldn’t have imagined the ways their lives mirrored one another or foreseen the bond of friendship they would eventually forge, they both made a striking impression on each other.

“Doulas and nurses don’t generally interact a bunch, but a nurse can really make or break a birth and affect the satisfaction of the parents,” said Hall. “I remember watching Carson, thinking ‘I really like her.’”

Ragan felt the same about Hall.

“She stood out to me,” said Ragan. “I just remember thinking she was giving the patient such good memories. Plus, she was a breath of fresh air. Back then there was some negativity between staff and doulas, just a bit of a power struggle, and Maegan came in with wonderful energy and was such a delight.”

Hall didn’t work at Ragan’s hospital often, but when she did, she’d look for her, hoping they’d be paired together. A couple years later, she heard that Ragan was attending midwifery school and

started her own midwifery practice in 2019.

“I had to reach out,” said Hall. “I called and told her that the model of care she wanted to provide was perfect for my type of clientele.”

The women went to lunch — which wasn’t easy to coordinate because, as they say, one of them is always on call or catching a baby — and they were baffled to discover how similar their lives were.

“We reconnected so quickly on both a personal and professional level,” said Ragan. “We were both moms of five children who’d been pregnant as teens and divorced, both of us, after exactly 17.5 years of marriage. We were building businesses of our own and shared the same dream: to love and support women and their families.”

Ragan’s business, OB2me, offers concierge obstetric care, which takes a holistic approach to childbirth and facilitates different types of births including unmedicated and water birth.

In addition to serving as a doula, Hall provides photography and videography of the labor and delivery, helping to ensure the experience is both empowering and memorable for her clients.

The two friends have worked more than 50 births together, two of which were particularly special.

“When my daughter Brianna got pregnant, I reached out to Carson, because Brianna already knew Carson (would) be the only one to touch my grandchildren,” said Hall with a laugh. “Shortly after, Carson called and said, ‘Guess what?’ Her oldest daughter was pregnant, too.”

Hall and Ragan introduced their daughters and encouraged them to forge a friendship, sharing from experience how wonderful it is to have a friend in the same phase as life, and how special it would be for their babies to grow up together. Just like their mothers, Brianna and Macauly clicked.

For Brianna’s December delivery, Hall was her doula videographer, but she hired another doula in case she needed to focus more on being a mom. Similarly, when Macauly had her baby just weeks later, Carson had a backup midwife.

Watching her daughter give birth was a full circle moment for Hall.

“I kept thinking, ‘I made it. I thrived and now I have a daughter who is thriving. I didn’t break, I didn’t fail. My daughter is OK, and now I get the beautiful gift of witnessing my daughter have a daughter,’” said Hall. “I was crushed with gratitude.”

Ragan echoes her friend’s sentiments and adds that she’s grateful she could watch Hall become a grandmother first.

“The whole thing was surreal,” said Ragan. “To see her emotionally connected in this birth, out of her element where she’s always so professional, was emotional and wonderful for me. Then it was my turn.”

Hall relished watching Ragan mothering her daughter as she labored.

“She was so hands-on, braiding hair, tucking in, giving kisses and hugs and cuddles,” said Hall. “When it was determined that Macauly needed a C-section, it was so beautiful to see her show confidence in the decision. We were with Macauly in the operating room and when she met her baby, it was pure bliss.”

Hall and Ragan both welcomed granddaughters, Juniper and Blair, respectively. And their moms have already gotten the babies together for playdates.

Neither Ragan nor Hall will go by “Grandma.” Ragan is called “Tita” and, Hall is considering “Tati,” which is Armenian for grandmother. Tita and Tati, the women burst into laughter when they hear the nearly identical names together.

Among their symmetries, Hall and Ragan share immense pride for what they overcame as teenaged mothers, who they have become as women and business owners, and, most of all, for the families they’ve raised.

“Carson and I have won the lottery of life,” said Hall.

Ragan, of course, wholeheartedly agrees.

Joey Milstein Finds Independence at Annandale Village

Photography by Natrice Miller

Joey Milstein loves his independence. He loves to blare Spotify, tidy his room and do laundry. He finds joy in activities like crafts, yoga, and dance class. He greets friends daily with a fist or elbow bump and gives his parents hugs and kisses on the weekends. Known for expressions like, “I’m thankful to be me,” and, “I’m spectacular,” Joey creates a ripple of smiles wherever he goes. When the 24-year-old was born with developmental disabilities, his mother accepted that life wouldn’t look typical for Joey, but she held onto hope that he would still live a meaningful, happy life. She credits Annandale Village for making her dream come true.

A Scary Start

Jed and Shelly Milstein, of New Jersey, were excited to start a family. They started trying in 1997, but soon learned their odds of conceiving on their own were slim. They chose to try in vitro fertilization and harvested 13 eggs, resulting in eight viable embryos. Three were implanted.

“We went to that first ultrasound and there was one heartbeat, two heartbeats, three heartbeats,” said Shelly Milstein. “We were overjoyed.”

Shelly was working full-time as a litigation attorney at a large firm in New Jersey. She knew she would not be able to work throughout the entire pregnancy but didn’t expect to leave at 16 weeks.

“The doctors didn’t even tell me I had to go on bedrest. There was no other option,” said Shelly, whose 5′8″ small frame grew rapidly. “I’d reach for a glass of water just two inches from my hand and couldn’t get it.”

Strong contractions began when she was 29 weeks along. Shelly assumed doctors would stop labor when she arrived at the hospital, but they had other plans. Joey, Lauren and Sam Milstein were born December 13, 1999. Joey and Lauren weighed nearly 3 pounds and Sam was just 2 pounds 2 ounces. All three babies went to the neonatal care unit.

“I wasn’t terrified right away,” said Shelly. “It didn’t all sink in for a while, but there were 100 indications that something wasn’t OK with the boys. There were new issues every day and so many miracles along the way. Someone would have a brain bleed, another would have a stomach issue, another would have a heart issue. It was such a roller coaster. Anything that can go wrong with a pre-term baby went wrong with at least one of my babies. Joey had the most medical issues.”

Joey had a grade 4 brain bleed. The Milsteins were told his motor skills would be affected. He had a series of spinal taps because of fluid accumulating in his head. Ultimately it was determined that the spinal taps weren’t working, so a shunt was put in when Joey was nine weeks old.

The Milsteins brought their trio home on Valentine’s Day 2000, along with breathing monitors and night nurses.

“That time is such a blur,” said Shelly. “I tried to be meticulous. I kept charts of when they ate, peed, pooped. I pumped milk for all three and our house had a revolving door of friends and family coming to help. We needed an entourage anywhere we went.”

As is common with premature babies, the Milstein triplets had developmental delays. The gap between the boys and Lauren began to widen quickly as she achieved milestones before them, walking and talking up a storm while the boys lagged. Sam was diagnosed with autism as a toddler, while Joey’s diagnosis was more in the gray area — things like cerebral palsy, behavior disorder, autism and intellectual disability have all been tossed around.

For years Joey cried inconsolably and constantly banged his head as a way of coping and communicating. Among other therapies, Joey worked with a behavioral therapist.

“All I wanted for Joey was for him to be able to communicate without so much frustration,” said Shelly. “He got the basics down — walking, talking, using the bathroom, but I was afraid his behavior would hold him back. I dreamed of getting to the point where he wouldn’t bang his head and by late elementary school, he became the poster child for behavior (therapy). He went from being unmanageable to sweet, obedient, and only wanting to please. It was literally life changing.”

Big Moves

In 2012, when Jed had the opportunity to take a new job that would allow for more family time, the Milstein family moved to Marietta.

“The kids were starting the seventh grade, and we chose Marietta specifically because we wanted the best schools for all three of them,” said Shelly.

While Lauren thrived in advanced placement classes, and Sam was enrolled in a full-time program to improve his communication, social and adaptive skills, Joey attended Walton High School where he was in mainstream classrooms part of the day and special education classes the other. Joey played the euphonium in the school band and worked at the school coffee shop throughout high school.

“Joey was very popular in school,” said Shelly. “He went to prom every year, people always called out ‘Joey!’ when they’d see him around. He was like the mayor.”

After high school, as Joey watched his classmates head off to college, he was excited to take a leap. In the fall of 2020, he landed at Annandale Village, where Sam was already living.

“Sam and Joey are very different, they’ve never been in classes or anything together, so if it’s right for Sam, who is minimally verbal, Joey assumes it’s not right for him,” said Shelly. “But once he got to Annandale and saw it for himself, he realized it was the best of everything.”

An Independent Life

Tucked out of sight in the bustling city of Suwanee, just 30 minutes from the Milstein’s home, is Annandale Village, a nonprofit residential community for individuals with intellectual or developmental disabilities and acquired brain injuries. Annandale was established in 1969 by Dr. Maxwell Berry and his wife Elizabeth, who dreamed of the perfect place for their daughter Libba, who was born with developmental disabilities. A stark contrast to the institutions of that time, Annandale was designed to be a warm home setting that could care for Libba when they no longer could, a place that would give her opportunities to meet her potential.

Today there are approximately 150 villagers spread across the independent and semi-independent living apartments, cottage residences, two assisted living centers and a center for skilled nursing.

Annandale services range from $1,500 to $5,300 a month, based on level of care and support needs. Fees are offset 20% thanks to the philanthropic community, and residents of more than 10 years have access to scholarships. In addition, Medicaid and Medicare are utilized.

Joey lives in a semi-independent apartment. He has his own bedroom and shares a bathroom and kitchenette with his suite mate and buddy, Aidan. Joey has the freedom to walk all over the 55-acre campus, from his house to the dining hall, to the activity center and the walking trails. His days usually begin at Jackson House where he meets with a group for morning meetings and games.

“I love doing crafts, meditation and exercise, and I like having conversations at Jackson House,” said Joey, whose smile is ever-present. “I really love to make my bed, and I do my laundry by myself on Saturdays, and Aidan and I like to listen to music together.”

Joey won the Annandale’s Got Talent show in 2022. He sang “Bad Habits” by Ed Sheeran and dropped the mic at the end of his performance.

“The show was just the best,” said Shelly, who brought friends to cheer Joey on. “It’s so obvious that he’s happy and thriving at Annandale, as is Sam, and that’s all any parent would want for their child. We could continue to try to cobble together ways to meet their various needs, but Annandale provides comprehensive one-stop shopping at a level we simply wouldn’t be able to provide. Living on a campus with their peers allows them to experience and enjoy community in a way they never would if they lived with us. Instead of scavenging for social opportunities, they have built-in friendships.”

Like the Berrys, one of Shelly’s greatest fears was wondering who would take care of Joey and Sam when she and Jed no longer can. Now that their sons are at Annandale, the fear has evaporated.

Annandale offers all levels of care throughout an individual’s lifetime, which means Joey and his brother never have to leave their home or their friends.

“I see my family often,” said Joey. “My mom is really beautiful. She calls me Joe Joe.”

Shelly and Jed take their sons out to lunch most Sundays. Joey prefers Taco Mac because he likes to participate in Brewniversity, sampling different beers and accruing points and prizes.

“They like to be out and about, but they’re always glad to get back home. Annandale is their home, and they love it,” said Shelly. “We’re so relieved and grateful that they will have that for the rest of their lives. We know we won’t be here forever, so we take immense comfort in knowing Annandale will always be here for them and they will be loved, supported, respected and cared for.”

Joey calls his mom at least five times a day. He talks to her about his day, asks about her day, he always says he loves her, and he loves Annandale Village. He often says, “I’m happy that I’m happy,” which is music to Shelly’s ears.

“I’m happy that you’re happy, Joe Joe.”

Kim Airhart Supports Others as She Fights 4th Stage Cancer

As Kim Airhart battles her own cancer recurrence, she continues to raise funds and awareness for ovarian cancer research and provide support for other women fighting the harrowing disease.

Statistically, patients diagnosed with Stage 4 ovarian cancer have a high rate of recurrence, but Airhart hoped she would be a unicorn. Through her nonprofit, Harts of Teal, she has witnessed many recurrences, but still, she stayed as optimistic as she could. She felt well when she went to her quarterly blood tumor marker check in December, which made her even more shocked to learn her level, which had been 11 since she completed treatment in August 2020, had jumped to 62.

“I knew something was wrong. I had a PET scan after the blood test,” said Airhart, 45, of Fayetteville. “It was clear, so we had to just wait and see what would show up.”

At the end of December, she flew to MD Anderson Cancer Center in Texas, where she learned the cancer was near her liver and diaphragm. Two months later, she felt pain high in her abdomen and had to have fluid drained from the lining around her lungs, known as the pleural space. It was enough to fill two soda cans. She had fluid drained again just four weeks later.

After her initial diagnosis in February 2020, she underwent a full hysterectomy. Once ovaries are removed, if the cancer returns, it typically goes to the lymphatic system: the liver, lungs, brain, or anywhere in the abdomen.

“It’s on my diaphragm and in my pleural space, almost to my lungs and liver,” said Airhart. “They can’t go get it, it’s too much to take out, so they have to shrink it with chemo.”

On March 11, Airhart began a combo of three drugs for six rounds. It was heartbreaking, said Airhart, when she and Chris, her husband of nearly 17 years, told their five children — Holden, Harrison, Carter, Kate, and Hayes, ages 7 to 15 — that the cancer had returned.

“I didn’t want to scare them, but I also can’t lie to them,” said Airhart. “I can’t tell them I’m going to be OK, but I reiterate that God has a plan and, though we may not understand it, he’ll never leave us. I had the option to do a regiment where I wouldn’t lose my hair again or have bone pain and that’s what I chose. Holden, who’s 7, doesn’t remember the first time. All he knows is Harts of Teal and me taking care of others with cancer, not me having cancer.”

Airhart hosted the first Harts of Teal event, the Harts of Teal 5K and 1 Mile Fun Run, in July 2021, and officially established the nonprofit that August. Though her energy has taken a hit due to treatment, she is currently full steam ahead, planning the 4th annual Harts of Teal 5K for June 8, and continuing outreach in a variety of ways.

“I know this is what I’m supposed to be doing,” said Airhart.

Airhart leads monthly support groups and Zoom calls, as well as monthly dinners for who she calls her “Teal Sisters,” teal being the color of the ovarian cancer ribbon. Harts of Teal has provided 11,500 “Teal for Teachers” lunch totes, which include an information card about all the signs and symptoms of gynecological cancers. Harts of Teal has also sent out over 100 blessing bags, a backpack with a blanket, to women who have recently been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and they frequently send gifts to women who are hospitalized or experiencing a recurrence. Harts of Teal has also given $30,000 toward ovarian cancer research.

Airhart has spoken at Bible studies, corporate lunch and learns, and recently spoke at a women’s shelter, educating them on ovarian cancer.

“It never fails when I speak to an audience that people say they’ve never heard about the signs and symptoms of ovarian cancer,” said Airhart. “I didn’t know either. I was bloated and constipated and had I known those were symptoms, I could have been diagnosed earlier and been two stages better.”

Airhart has said goodbye to many of her Teal Sisters over the past four years, 10 women just since March 2023.

“I was at a funeral not long ago and couldn’t even cry, I felt so numb,” said Airhart. “It’s very sobering. I may be in and out of treatment the rest of my life, I may not be here in 10 years, we just don’t know. I try not to focus on it, but it’s there every second of the day. Other moms my age talk about future grandkids and I’m afraid I won’t have the chance to be a grandmother. All I can do is lean on God.”

Airhart does think about her future and is hopeful her dreams will be realized.

“I want to further our mission with Harts of Teal,” said Airhart. “I want teal to be as recognized for ovarian cancer as pink is for breast cancer, and I want Harts of Teal to continue beyond me. I hope this is my last treatment, that my cancer doesn’t come back, and that I get to meet my grandbabies. I hope one day there’s a test to detect ovarian cancer in the early stages and no one will have to lose their wives, mothers, grandmothers, and friends.”

To learn more about Harts of Teal or to register for the Harts of Teal 5K, visit www.hartsofteal.org.



Katherine Wolf: Treasures in the Dark

Contributed by Meshali Mitchell

While the anniversary of Katherine Wolf’s near fatal stroke will never change, her perspective on it has. The memories of April 21, 2008, stung for years and now the trauma is more bearable because Wolf grasped the opportunity to love who she’s become on the other side. It’s lessons like this and more that Wolf writes about in her third book, released April 9, “Treasures in the Dark: 90 Reflections on Finding Bright Hope Hidden in the Hurting.”

“I didn’t wake up to the idea of being a writer until after my stroke,” said Wolf, 42, who is also the author of “Hope Heals” and “Suffer Strong.”

When she was 26, Wolf was an aspiring model and actress, living in Culver City, California, with her husband Jay and their 6-month-old son James. She was cooking meals for members of her church one afternoon when she collapsed in her kitchen. She had suffered a massive brain stem stroke. It was caused by the rupturing of an arteriovenous malformation (AVM), an abnormal connection between arteries and veins, which usually occurs in the brain or spine. It’s a rare congenital defect Wolf didn’t know she had.

After an intense surgery, 40 days on life support, and a stay at a rehabilitation center, Wolf’s new life began. She worked in therapy to regain abilities, including swallowing and walking. Wolf was allowed to eat again 11 months after her stroke and walked 18 months after.

Many changes to Wolf’s body were permanent. She cannot drive, as she is nearly blind in her left eye and has double vision in her right. She is deaf in her right ear, her face is paralyzed on the right side, and her right hand lacks fine motor coordination.

In 2013, Wolf and Jay launched Hope Heals, a nonprofit that offers rest, resources, and relationships to broken bodies, brains, and hearts.

“Through our ministry I feel called to create sacred spaces of belonging and belovedness,” said Wolf, of Atlanta. “I get to be a living survival guide about how to do life when your heart is broken, when you’re in a body or life you never imagined, when life is pressing on you. It’s a profound gift I’ve been given.”

Though Wolf made many big speeches throughout her school years, including the final sermon at church her senior year of high school, she never fathomed becoming a professional speaker. Now through Hope Heals she travels across the United States for multiple speaking engagements each month.

Hope Heals hosts an annual summer camp for families affected by disability and on April 15 they will open the doors to their new shop in the heart of Buckhead, Mend Coffee & Goods.

“After years of having the camp and recognizing a tremendous need for community, especially for kids with disabilities who age out of schooling and need to earn a living wage, we wanted to create a community hub and provide the dignity of a workplace for those individuals,” said Wolf. “Yes, it’s a coffee shop, but that’s camouflage for a place to be that’s universally designed, super accessible and employs people who are living with outer disabilities. Our big priority is smiling faces of all different kinds of people.”

While Wolf plans to be at Mend frequently, Jay serves as the CEO of that as well as the camp, and Wolf will continue traveling, promoting her new book, and staying busy as a mother.

In 2015, the Wolfs welcomed their second child, John. James, now 16, and John, 8, keep Wolf busy. Her walker and wheelchair don’t prohibit her from being front and center, cheering for her boys at tennis matches, plays, soccer, show choir performances. Wolf is also very involved with Passion City Church, where the family has attended since 2018.

Wolf is excited about her new book and hopes that, through her reflections, readers will embrace their own stories of pain and triumph.

“Who among us feels fully free, even when he can walk on his own?” said Wolf. “Who feels truly beautiful, even when her face is not paralyzed? Who feels completely understood, even without a speech impairment? The answer is a resounding no one. We are all disabled. Some of our wheelchairs are simply on the inside instead of the outside.”

In April, Wolf, along with her friends who serve as travel companions, will travel to Las Vegas, Dallas, and Virginia to speak to audiences about hope. She will open the doors to Mend, watch her book hit the shelves, and she plans to savor the sweetness that is unfolding.

“In ‘Treasures in the Dark,’ entry number 21, I write about how I used a letterboard to type out words after my stroke,” said Wolf. “Over and over I’d type ‘I’m the same on the inside’ and a robot voice would speak the words. What I know now is that I’d never say that, because I’m decidedly not the same and that’s a good thing. Sixteen years later I can say suffering has made me different and that’s the gift of all our suffering. It’s perspective and the things we gain, those are the treasures in the dark.”

To learn more about Hope Heals and Wolf’s new book “Treasures in the Dark,” visit hopeheals.org


Netflix Star Connor Tomlinson: Autism Advocate

Connor Tomlinson is proud of who he is and wants all people with autism to feel the same, which is why he’s launching a campaign in support of Autism Awareness Month. Through April 30, 100 percent of proceeds for two T-shirt designs on Tomlinson’s website will be donated to Spectrum Autism Support Center in Duluth, as well as the Forsyth County campus of Creative Enterprises, a training and employment community rehabilitation program for people with disabilities.

Tomlinson, a Cumming native, recently came to prominence in Netflix’s Emmy-winning “Love on the Spectrum,” a docuseries that follows people on the autism spectrum who are looking for love and navigating the world of dating and relationships.

When Jack Tomlinson, Connor’s younger brother, watched the first season of the show in 2022, he felt sure Connor would make a perfect participant.

“I tweeted Cian O’Clery, the director, and thought there was no way he’d ever answer me,” said Jack, 19. “Six months later he responded and told me to have my mom reach out.”

After a series of Zoom calls with producers in Sydney, Australia, and Los Angeles, O’Clery asked to visit the family’s home.

“That’s when we took a pause,” said Tomlinson’s mom, Lise Smith. “We never imagined it’d really happen, but when Cian wanted to come out, we realized this might really happen. We talked with Connor, of course, and we talked to his dad, and all of Connor’s siblings. We knew this would put Connor and the rest of us on a global stage. We have a big, blended family and we wanted everyone to be OK with it. Ultimately, it was up to Connor, and he wanted to go for it.”

A week after visiting the family, O’Clery invited Tomlinson to be on the show. Smith said her oldest son celebrated with a dance, kind of like an Irish jig. But Tomlinson, a history buff, quickly corrected her.

“It was a Russian Kazotsky,” he said.

Tomlinson, 25, loves movies and watches Netflix often, but never imagined starring in a show.

“Not in a million years did I think I’d be on TV, but it was good,” he said. “It made me nervous and happy at the same time.”

Tomlinson and his family were filmed from February to May 2023. He adjusted well to the cameras and appreciated O’Clery’s support throughout the process, especially when he had a panic attack during a speed dating event.

“Netflix is extraordinarily responsible,” said Smith. “Connor had a psych evaluation, there was psych support, and even social media training. All the people he met during dates had background checks, and support was always there during the show and even after the show dropped.”

In the first episode, Tomlinson explained that he felt left out as he watched all his siblings with their significant others and said he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone. Tomlinson had lots of friends at West Forsyth High School and refers to that time as the best four years of his life. Since graduating, however, he doesn’t do much with friends. But he stays busy with his job at Kroger where he bags groceries, retrieves shopping carts from the parking lot and sweeps floors. He also observes people.

“I see a lot of families and couples and think it sure seems great,” he said. “Sometimes a guy gets lonely.”

Tomlinson doesn’t currently have a girlfriend, but he had some successful dates on the show. He said he grew as a person and is proud of himself for taking a big step. The response from friends, family and fans has also been positive. He is recognized in public wherever he goes, from restaurants to airports, and often at work.

“Kroger has a policy so I can’t take pictures or selfies with anyone, but people always say hi, and I like that,” he said. “Everyone has been nice, and it feels pretty good when I get recognized.”

Tomlinson was recently invited to New York by Amber Ardolino, a principal player in Broadway’s “A Beautiful Noise,” the Neil Diamond musical. Not only did he get to watch the show, but he was also invited to join the cast on stage to sing “Sweet Caroline” during the finale.

“At intermission I was so nervous, I was keeled over and shaking,” he said, his dark eyes big and round. “I told my mom I wanted to run and put as much distance between myself and the theater as possible.”

But Tomlinson didn’t run. He took deep breaths and when he went on stage, he raised his fist in the air, causing a ripple of emphatic applause and happy tears throughout the audience.

“Everyone was crying,” said Smith. “And I was just so proud. I’m always so proud of Connor.”

While his social media following grows by the day (he has 317,000 Instagram followers at @ConnorTomlinson5), and business opportunities emerge, he has a big goal on his mind.

“One day I hope I’ll be able to raise enough money to have a guest house in our backyard to escape the stresses and pressures of life,” said Tomlinson, who lives with his mom and stepdad. “I have a lot of cool stuff in my room, but not a lot of space. I want a hobby room and a library, like an old English library. I want bookshelves with a rolling ladder, and I need a place with two leather recliners facing the TV, one for me and one for my dog Coco.”

Tomlinson is open to returning to “Love on the Spectrum” for season three, if offered. He said the show does a great job of representing the autistic community and he hopes to continue the effort through his Autism Awareness shirts. One sports the message, “Be kind to different minds,” and the other says, “This is who I am, and I like it,” a message that resonates with Tomlinson.

“Autism is what makes me different and unique,” he said. “I’m proud of who I am. I hope people see me and know nothing is impossible if you put your mind to it.”

To purchase a shirt in honor of Autism Awareness Month, visit Connor.meteor.land


Crystel Saturday Lost Weight and Gained a Calling

Photos shot by Aryelle Perez

When Crystel Saturday discovered a way to lose weight naturally, she hoped her story would encourage other women to do the same. Less than a year later, her videos have gone viral, she has over 70,000 followers on Instagram, and a new business as a health accountability coach.

In January 2023, Saturday was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. Her weight was at its highest, she was breathless as she chased around her two young sons, and she was fearful of the future.

“I somehow had settled into thinking that being heavy was just how I would be for the rest of my life, but then a switch went off. I was tired of the excuses and tired of feeling like junk. I was 39 years old with children who deserve the best of me,” said Saturday, now 40. “I was overwhelmed and depressed, but I decided I’d focus on just one thing at a time.”

Saturday began by assessing her eating habits. When she tracked her daily diet, she realized she was consuming between 3,000 and 4,000 calories a day. She immediately cut out her daily dessert, then stopped her nighttime snacking.

“Now we eat dinner at 5:30 or 6 and I eat nothing else before bed,” said Saturday, who lives in Johns Creek with her husband, Ryan, and their boys Levi, 4, and Jace, almost 2.

Eliminating nighttime eating transitioned into an intermittent fasting schedule, which helped her shed her first 10 pounds.

“I still maintain a 16-hour fast,” said Saturday. “I don’t take my first bite of food until 10:30 am. I use water when I feel hungry and I’ll break the fast for special occasions, but the routine has become second nature.”

Saturday’s next steps were to increase her water intake, limiting herself to just one non-water drink a day, and she reduced her food portions. She also began to move more.

“I put on my Apple watch and made sure I was up every hour,” said Saturday. “I did more chores around the house, vacuuming and laundry, no more TV. I turned my life into an exercise program, anything to break a sweat. I began pushing the kids in the stroller more, opting to walk them to and from daycare, and spend free time on nature trails.”

The daily miles added up and by May she set a goal of walking five miles a day.

“I lost 10 pounds from walking that month,” said Saturday. “I’d do five to six miles in an hour-and-a-half and my whole body was engaged. I was moving my arms, swinging my hips. I moved like I was marching to right a wrong against my family.”

Hoping to also gain muscle, Saturday tried a program called 75 Hard, a mental toughness challenge that requires a strict diet, no cheat meals, and two 45-minute workouts a day among other things.

While Saturday lost weight and got stronger during the program, she did not like the mental ramifications.

“I felt like a failure if I needed a rest day or if I craved chocolate,” said Saturday. “I felt obsessed with food and realized that programs like that are why people never try to lose weight or why they quit. That’s when I had an idea. I combined the tricks I’d learned on my own with the positives from 75 Hard and created the 60 New Challenge.”

Saturday started her health and fitness Instagram page, Commit to Change with Crystel, in September 2023 and launched her first 60 New Challenge in November. The challenge has a checklist with the 7 daily habits — like not eating after dinner and waking and going to sleep at the same time each day — that helped her lose 85 pounds.

“If you miss a day on my challenge, you don’t fail,” said Saturday. “You pick it up the next day and stay committed to your journey.”

Saturday, who is a realtor, never expected her Instagram venture to turn into a business. She intended to keep giving advice for free, but she was spending six to eight hours a day answering messages and receiving hundreds of requests for one-on-one coaching.

“There’s this demand to help people and I take this responsibility seriously,” said Saturday. “I’m up front about the fact that I’m not a trainer or a nutritionist, and I’m also not an influencer. I’m helping people on an intimate level, not influencing them for a moment, but giving them tools they can use for a lifetime.”

Saturday, who would like to book inspirational speaking engagements, said she asks God for signs that this is the right path for her, and every day she receives them.

“I open my messages and read stories from women around the world,” said Saturday. “It’s so moving and humbling to know that I’ve helped them, and then there’s the ripple effect. People tell me their daughter or sister committed to joining them in making this huge, healthy change and I’m left with tears in my eyes. Sometimes we don’t even know that by putting ourselves out there, we’re impacting so many. I feel so fortunate to have the opportunity to help others.”

To learn more about Crystel’s weight loss journey and her 60 New Challenge, visit www.committochangewithcrystel.com or find her on Instagram: CommittoChangeWithCrystel

Teen Clings to Faith After Limb Amputation

Natalya Manhertz may never understand how a sore throat led to the amputation of all four of her limbs, but, with steadfast faith, and the love of her family and friends, she is reminded that she’s still the same “Nat.”

It was May 2023, the end of Manhertz’s junior year at Trinity Christian School in Sharpsburg, when she developed a sore throat. After a weekend of discomfort, she missed school the following Monday, and still didn’t feel well when she returned to school Tuesday.

“I asked a friend to drop me off at the front door of the building, because the walk from the parking lot was too far. I felt like I’d pass out,” said Manhertz,18.

When she entered the school, her principal instantly recognized that Manhertz wasn’t well and sent her to the nurse’s office. The nurse called her mom and suggested she take her daughter to urgent care.

Manhertz was treated for a migraine at urgent care and sent home. Hours later she woke from a nap with a throbbing head, bloody nose, and pain throughout her body. Her mom rushed her to the local hospital emergency room where she was diagnosed with strep throat and where medical staff made the shocking discovery that Natalya’s organs were failing. She received a blood transfusion and was life-flighted to Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta Egleston Hospital.

“I was all over the place, crying, shock, all of it,” said her mother, Thelia Manhertz. “The doctor said she had Group A Strep and septic shock. I had never even heard of sepsis.”

Soon after arriving at Children’s, Manhertz went into cardiac arrest. With no time to spare, her mother gave verbal permission for her daughter to be placed on an ECMO machine to keep her heart and lungs functioning. Doctors explained Manhertz could die on the machine and said she would certainly die without it.

Thelia Manhertz was told her daughter could remain on the ECMO machine for months and was relieved when she was able to be taken off after five days. But when they took her off the machine, Manhertz’s limbs were cold. The machine kept her alive, but her limbs suffered from lack of blood flow.

Manhertz, a 5-foot-10-inch tennis player, learned her hands would be amputated up to her forearms, and her long legs would also be amputated, the right one to right below her knee, the left above the knee.

“I was crying, so scared when I found out. The first thing I thought was I’m going to die,” said Manhertz. “My mom cried when she told me. I’d never seen my mom cry before in my life.”

Dr. Vipin Bansal, a pediatric anesthesiologist at Children’s, met with Manhertz before the surgery.

“We see amputations all the time, but not all four limbs,” said Bansal. “Her arms and legs looked like burned matches. It breaks your heart. Everyone at Children’s came together to help this girl – nurses, doctors – we all love her.”

Due to intense medication, Manhertz’s long, black hair fell out. On July 10, the day of her leg amputation, the nurses and doctors wore wigs to make Manhertz smile. She also wore a wig up till surgery.

“I felt a bit of relief after my leg surgery, because they had developed gangrene and I knew it was time,” said Manhertz.

Just days later, on July 14, Manhertz was wheeled into her second surgery.

“I was more prepared for the hands,” said Manhertz. “I saw my fingers drying up, no life left.”

While both operations went as expected, Manhertz experienced intense pain in her left leg, including phantom pain, a terrible sensation that felt as if her leg was still there. Bansal, who specializes in acute chronic pain, had a solution in mind.

“Nerve stimulators are something Emory does, but never at Children’s,” said Bansal. “Wires are placed next to the nerves, and they retrain the pain signals in the leg and brain. Children’s went the extra mile and gave us approval for the nerve stimulator within a week. We’re the first to use it on someone so young and it was successful in alleviating Nat’s pain.”

Manhertz was transferred to Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta Scottish Rite Hospital for rehabilitation. She was released Oct. 4, five months after the onset of her initial symptoms.

“I have days where I just want to get in my car and drive around like a normal teenage girl, but I can’t do that anymore,” said Manhertz. “Adjusting to my new life is weird. My friends tell me I’m the same Nat as before. I get all the tea, they come over and we hang out like we normally would. And I’m going to prom in March. I didn’t originally want to go because I don’t want my power wheelchair to bump into people on the dance floor, but my friends make me feel really comfortable. And this is my senior year.”

Manhertz and her mother are passionate about bringing more awareness to sepsis, insisting the Centers for Disease Control is not doing enough education, especially in schools. Manhertz still plans to attend college to pursue the dream she’s had for years.

“I still want to be a sports broadcaster,” she said. “Once I have my new hands and legs, people will see me on TV and be like ‘OMG, she has prosthetic hands, robotic legs, and she is doing it.’ I want to be a voice for people like me.”

Thelia Manhertz is amazed by her daughter. She said her daughter gets her strength from the Lord and she gets her strength from her child.

“We are Christians, and we believe in God,” said Manhertz. “Faith helps me when I feel down. Getting my legs and hands cut off has affected my confidence, but I take a step back and think, God spared my life. I’ve been told many times that I should have died. But God.”

Professor Lights a Path for Young Men

Professor Bobby Gueh wants to save the lives of young men. He wants to inspire them, to push them to pursue their dreams, help them see the greatness that lies within them. He’s dedicated his career to this mission, all because two people did the same for him when he was a child. While society told Gueh a negative story about who he was, Randy and Gerri Morrison told him a different story, one that changed the trajectory of his life.

Gueh was just 8 years old when he, his mother, and three siblings fled Liberia. His father was in America on a student visa while in seminary and was pastoring at a church. He told his church about the troubles his family has having back home. A civil war was brewing in Liberia and soldiers had come to the house and threatened to kill them. The church raised money and evacuated the family to Trenton, New Jersey.

“It was a whole new world,” said Gueh, 45. “I was an African Black kid trying to assimilate. Even the Black American kids didn’t like me. I found myself trying to adapt to a very negative culture where violence, gang life and drugs were normal.”

Gueh was in middle school when he was introduced to Randy Morrison and his wife Gerri. They led an after-school program and invited Gueh to join. The group met to do homework in a church basement.

As years passed, Gueh continued with the Morrison’s program. The group went on college tours, including historically Black colleges.

“That was a very impactful experience,” said Gueh, of Sugar Hill. “That planted the seed for me. I knew after those tours that I wanted to go to college.”

Though a high school counselor discouraged Gueh from going to college, he graduated from South Carolina State University with a degree in education.

“I saw how the Morrisons poured into me. I wanted to return to Trenton to do the same for other kids,” said Gueh.

When no jobs were available at a local elementary school, it was the Morrisons that lit a path for Gueh. By this time, their program had become a charter school, the Young Scholars Institute (it has since become a year-round after school learning center.) The Morrisons suggested Gueh work there as a substitute teacher.

“I was with fourth graders, and I loved it,” said Gueh. “We connected quickly, and the school kept bringing me back to teach them. It was difficult, too, though. Imagine, little fourth graders talking about the abuse they experience at home, hungry kids who didn’t have breakfast that morning or dinner the night before. Fourth graders selling drugs. I was 22. I didn’t know what I could do to help them, but that’s all I wanted to do.”

Naturally, it was the Morrisons who suggested a different path – one Gueh continues to travel.

“Randy asked what I thought about becoming a school counselor. I hadn’t thought about it until that moment,” said Gueh. “I went back to school to get my masters in school counseling. It took me out of the classroom, which I missed, but now I could really help these kids with social and emotional issues. It was during those years that I saw the profound need to also become an advocate, particularly for Black boys going through educational injustices.”

Gueh worked as a school counselor in New Jersey for eight years, then moved to Gwinnett County in 2010 where he worked as a counselor at an elementary school, a middle school, then a high school. He led many mentor programs for boys over the years, which led him to launch Brothers Making Moves Enrichment Academy in 2018, a nonprofit that operates out of Sugar Hill.

“Currently, we partner with seventh-grade boys at Lanier Middle School, and we follow them through high school graduation,” said Gueh. “We give them academic support, we expose them to business leaders and fancy restaurants, take them on college tours, coach them in sports. It’s a powerful enrichment program that shows boys how much potential every single one of them has.”

Gueh is now a professor at Georgia State University. His students do volunteer work for Brothers Making Moves, as well as research.

“I’m grateful for the collaboration between GSU, Gwinnett County Schools, and the City of Sugar Hill – that’s quite the trifecta. That’s a lot of support and these kids see it and feel it, which is huge,” said Gueh.

Gueh’s long-term goal is to build a program that districts across the state can mimic.

“I want to do for young men the same thing the Morrisons did for me,” said Gueh, who stays in touch with his mentors. “They saved my life in so many ways. I can never repay them. They told me and all those other kids of our greatness when no one else did.”

It’s that message that echoes, not just in Gueh’s life, but in the lives of the young men he serves through Brothers Making Moves, where the mantra is “planting seeds of greatness.”

Good News is Brewing

The last thing Drue Warner thought he’d ever do was launch a church — let alone a church based out of a brewery — but that’s exactly what he did. Good News Church opened in the spring of 2021 at Monkey Wrench Brewing in Suwanee. Warner is the lead pastor.

Warner grew up in South Florida. His father was a Presbyterian pastor and Warner attended private Christian school for years. Around the time Warner was preparing to leave for college, internal strife struck the family’s church, causing his father to resign and for many relationships to go up in smoke.

“When I left for college, I went with anger and hatred toward God and church. I was done with it, running as far as I could go,” said Warner, 53.

He moved to Atlanta after graduating college and entered the world of sales.

“I didn’t care about what I was doing,” said Warner. “I was out late partying in clubs and bars, up early working, burning the candle at both ends. That’s about the time I ended up running into God. He started to stir me with the awareness that I had no purpose. I asked myself, ‘Will I do this the rest of my life, then die and that be it?’ That created angst and fear. I had trouble sleeping and would take walks at 4 a.m., talking out loud to God.”

Warner began reading his Bible and the book of Romans caught his attention, specifically Romans 5:8.

“It says while we were sinners Christ died for us,” said Warner. “It hit me that God doesn’t love us because we’re good, he loves us unconditionally just as we are. That transformed my life.”

Ideas about ministry began to percolate in Warner’s head. Ministry isn’t what he really wanted to do, but he felt he was being led and was open to the unknown.

As fate would have it, doors began to open. He managed a mom-and-pop Christian bookstore in Roswell, went on to work for the Christian education branch of the Presbyterian Church in America, then joined the community outreach staff at Perimeter Church in Johns Creek.

Warner and Laura, his bride of 20 years, moved to a big neighborhood in Sugar Hill in 2003. They declared it ground zero for their personal ministry.

“We had this shared passion to invest in people and neighbors,” said Warner. “We got to know lots of people, developed friendships, and began praying for them. We didn’t invite anyone to church or even have spiritual conversations. We just built relationships. It wasn’t long before people started asking us about our faith and inviting themselves to church with us. We often heard friends say, ‘It’s not that I’m not interested in faith or God, I’m just done with church.’”

That’s when the seeds for Good News Church were planted.

“I had my own past and completely related to what they were saying,” said Warner.

In 2014, Warner was at a ministry workshop when he was asked: If you knew you couldn’t fail, what would you do? His answer: He’d open a brewery that also functioned as a church.

He created a business plan and was introduced to a brewer, Wayne Baxter, who was looking for space to open his brewery. The two became buddies and Warner celebrated Baxter when he opened Monkey Wrench Brewing in Suwanee in 2020.

Soon after the brewery opened, Perimeter Church asked Warner if he’d be interested in starting a new church in Sugar Hill. His answer was an immediate yes. He knew this was his calling. He drove straight to Monkey Wrench and asked Baxter if he could host church in the brewery. Baxter handed him a key.

“I knew I didn’t want to play church or conform to religious processes,” said Warner. “I want it to be from the heart. As for having it at a brewery, I think it’s so great. Alcohol, like food, brings people together and it can be a positive, redemptive thing when consumed in moderation.”

Sunday mornings around 10 a.m., about 75 casually dressed people, many with their dogs in tow, gather at Monkey Wrench to attend Good News Church. They bring savory foods and settle on couches, picnic tables, and bar stools. They raise their hands at the beginning of the service if they have good news to share. After the service, which includes music and a sermon from Warner, some folks stick around. The taproom opens at 12:30.

“No, we don’t drink beer during church,” said Warner with a laugh. “But lots of people enjoy craft beer and church, and this breaks down stigmas and the barrier that says you can’t like beer and church. Transformation happens when we can be completely ourselves.”

Good News Church does a lot of outreach projects with nearby elementary schools as well as the North Gwinnett Co-op and homeless shelters. They have a women’s group, and the church hosts events, like their upcoming Christmas Hymns & Hops night on Dec. 10.

“We aren’t for everybody, but we are for God,” said Warner. “We want to create a space for people who are interested in something beyond surface level. No better way to prove that God can meet us anywhere.”

Lutzie 43 Foundation: A Father on a Mission

When Mike and Mary Lutzenkirchen returned to their Marietta home after attending mass on June 29, 2014, an ominous sticky note awaited them. It was there on the front door, scrawled with 10 digits and a simple message: “Call this number.” The dread was instant.

Mike called and was greeted by the voice of the Troup County coroner who delivered the news. Philip —the third of the Lutzenkirchens’ four children, their only son, a mama’s boy, Mike’s best friend, a beloved former Auburn University football player — was gone. He died in a car accident. He was just 23 years old.

Philip had attended a party at a farm in LaGrange. He and three friends left the party in the wee hours of morning on June 29 to go to a gas station. After they made their stop, the Tahoe headed back to the farm, just three miles away. Three of the young 20-somethings, including the driver and Philip, weren’t wearing seatbelts. They had also been drinking. When the car flew off the road, it hit a ditch, it hit a ravine, it went airborne, and flipped. Two survived. The driver and Philip were killed.

Mere days later, as the Lutzenkirchens grappled with their devastation, a new purpose began to take shape.

“We never thought this would happen to one of our kids,” said Mike, 60. “Drinking, speeding, going out after midnight, distracted, no seatbelts. You’d never expect something like this to happen to Philip because he always had a great perspective and he made good decisions. But Philip’s story isn’t unique in that we all make mistakes. There’s only been one who didn’t sin and that was Jesus Christ. I’m not mad at Philip. I just wish so badly he’d shown up at that farm and asked for everyone’s keys and showed the leadership he’d shown his whole life. He didn’t, and now I know God’s plan for the rest of my life. I want to save lives.”

The Lutzie 43 Foundation was founded in the fall of 2014, named in tribute to Philip’s football number at Auburn. The non-profit works to inspire people to make better decisions as drivers and friends.

Their 43 Key Seconds Initiative reminds drivers to take 43 seconds to ensure they have a clear head, clear hands, clear eyes and click it before turning the key. They sell an orange and blue key set brandishing their slogans, designed to be a reminder and safety awareness tool.

Mike, who had a previous career with IBM and helped start-up companies with their sales and business development, now runs the foundation full time. He often travels to Safe Driving Summits, hosted by hospitals, sports teams, corporations, high schools and colleges to be a keynote speaker.

The foundation also awards a $4,300 Prepared for Life Scholarship, given annually to students who have demonstrated outstanding character in the areas of service and leadership. They recently awarded their 94th scholarship and plan to give 15 in 2024.

The Lutzie 43 Foundation is partnered with the Georgia Department of Transportation to promote driver safety and awareness.

“CHAMP and HERO, both GDOT units that assist drivers, hand out our 43 Second Key and checklist every time they stop for non-emergency roadside assistance,” said Mike. “We want drivers to keep that information in their car as a trigger, a reminder to make better decisions while driving.”

According to the GDOT, 1,830 people died on Georgia’s roads in 2022. That number is more than in 2021 and an average of five deaths every day. Seventy-three percent of fatalities in crashes are caused by unsafe driving behaviors, including distractions, impairment or speeding. Sixty percent of victims were not wearing seatbelts or seat belt usage was unknown.

“Any right-minded initiative that does what [the Lutzie 43 Foundation] does to help educate kids and adults on safer driving habits is not only worthwhile, but extremely important,” said Natalie Dale, spokesperson for the GDOT. “Mike and his family have turned an unspeakably personal tragedy into a platform to save lives. I am confident that all who hear Mike speak at a Safe Driving Summit leave with a higher respect for personal responsibility behind the wheel and as a passenger.”

On Nov. 19, the Lutzie 43 Foundation will launch their 43-day, year-end campaign in hopes of raising $100,000, more than they’ve ever raised.

“I’m just a guy who lost his son and now I’m on a crusade to rattle the cages and save lives,” said Mike. “I used to be irritated early on when, after speaking, someone would say, ‘If you save one life today it’s worth it.’ I argued that I wouldn’t be doing it right because my son’s life was worth more than one. I want to save as many lives as I can. But the truth is, we’ll never know how many lives we’ll save. How do you measure a death that didn’t occur? I just pray to make an impact.”

Love Like Jodi

Friends and family of Jodi Whitaker say her legacy can be summarized in a word: love. That’s why, since losing Whitaker suddenly on Oct. 13, they have decided to move forward with the mantra “love like Jodi.”

Whitaker, who was 40, celebrated her 15th wedding anniversary with her husband Jeff in early October. They have two children, a 12-year-old daughter and an 8-year-old son, who were the center of her universe.

“Jodi and Jeff were a perfect match,” said Jayme Fowler, Whitaker’s sister. “They were best friends, who talked constantly, even when they were apart. And her kids, oh gosh. They were everything to her.”

Whitaker and her sister flew to Virginia to visit their aunt Oct. 12. The trio planned to drive to Maryland the next day to attend a birthday party.

“We were all getting ready that morning and Jodi was taking a long time,” said Fowler. “I went to check on her and found her unconscious in the shower.”

Fowler attempted CPR until EMTs arrived, but her sister, her best friend and confidante, who was seemingly healthy and well, was gone.

“From the very start when everyone found out, there was a swell of support,” said Fowler. “Jodi was well-known, involved in so many circles, constantly loving and doing for others. It’s like all the love was coming back to us.”

Neighbors, fellow sports parents, church friends — they swarmed around the Whitakers’ home immediately. Meals were provided, a new washing machine arrived to replace their broken one, even a ride on private jet was gifted to bring Fowler home from Virginia. Everyone was asking what they could do to help, and everyone was sharing their stories.

“We, her family, always knew Jodi over-loved us, if that’s a thing,” said Fowler, 42, of Loganville. “What’s really amazing is that all the people we’ve talked to since she passed say their experience with her was the exact same. I don’t know how one person can reach so many, how she had the time to touch base with this one, cook for that one, make everyone feel seen and loved. So many people came to us saying they want to be a better wife, a better mother, a better friend, all because of Jodi. That’s when I decided we could sit around and be sad, or we could show love the way Jodi did. I want to love like Jodi.”

At Whitaker’s service, which was attended by around 1,000 people, close friends and family wore shirts with the words “Love Like Jodi” emblazoned across their chests. They spoke of Whitaker’s friendly, hilarious personality, how she talked to strangers with ease, how she hugged and kissed her parents multiple times when she’d tell them goodbye.

They also spoke of her generous spirit and how they would carry it forward, a ripple effect already in motion.

Each year for Halloween, Whitaker hosted a party on behalf of her church in the cul de sac in front of her Bogart home. Her neighbors decided to do what Whitaker would, and hosted the annual party, complete with pizza and a bounce house, still right in front of Whitaker’s house.

Whitaker volunteered at multiple events every year for friends’ non-profits. She intended to volunteer at the Nov. 12 banquet for Hope 139, a nonprofit led by Shelley Tanner that serves at-risk mothers and children. The organization is building a community that will include residential cottages, play areas, and a community center. Hope 139 has chosen to dedicate their first cottage to Whitaker, calling it Jodi’s House.

Whitaker also intended to volunteer at the Banquet of Blessings on Nov. 20, an event organized by her close friends Lindsey and David Pollack through their nonprofit, The Pollack Family Foundation. The intention of this event is to bus in 800-1,000 homeless people from the greater Athens area to the Classic Center in downtown Athens.

They will be given a free Thanksgiving feast, along with items like clothes, hygiene products, and food packs. Inspired to love like Jodi, Fowler, along with some of Whitaker’s friends, initiated drives to collect items for the banquet.

“I wanted to give the gift of warmth in honor of Jodi,” said Fowler. “I went to Facebook and asked friends to help me collect 200 sleeping bags. The request was fulfilled within a couple days.”

Other friends have asked for items like coats, gloves, and baby wipes.

“To see a community come together like this is a testament to how good Jodi was,” said Lindsey. “She volunteered at every event we’ve ever had for the foundation, and I know she would’ve done anything I asked of her at this banquet. This event is about serving and showing people love and graciousness. That’s what Jodi did without even trying.”

Lindsey said Whitaker would be overwhelmed and humbled by her community’s support, but she might also find it silly.

“Jodi wouldn’t expect any attention for being such a good person,” said Lindsey.
“It was just natural for her, the first to show up, always giving of herself. She loved big, she served big. It’s who she was and how we will remember her, by serving and loving.”

Fulfilling a Dream: From Executive to EMT

Like many at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, Linda Matzigkeit was desperate to help. Unlike many, Matzigkeit, the chief administrative officer at Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta, got trained to serve as an emergency medical technician.

“I had wanted a clinical profession since I was in the seventh grade,” said Matzigkeit, 56. “I started college as a pharmacy student, but the biology, organic chemistry and such were overwhelming. I changed my major to healthcare administration. I worked for a consulting firm after college and almost left to return to school to become a nurse when I was offered my current role at Children’s. I thought, hmmm, maybe this is the way I’ll get closer to the clinical side.”

Matzigkeit has worked at Children’s for 20 years. In her executive role, she oversees most of the support departments, including human resources, marketing, legal, and employee and patient wellness. She leads a team of five vice presidents and 400 staff members.

When the pandemic hit, Matzigkeit watched many employees leave their jobs.

“Things were so uncertain, people were scared and had their families to worry about. Many females left the workforce to stay home with their families, and we were understaffed,” said Matzigkeit. “We asked staff in all positions to help fill different roles, like delivering food and cleaning rooms. Seeing the staff so stressed and scared made me feel helpless. I wanted to do more.”

Matzigkeit researched options to become a trained EMT. She chose Grady EMS Academy.

“It’s the most intensive program,” said Matzigkeit. “They have great instructors who are paramedics, their very own facility, and you must pass an entrance exam to get in. There is a high level of rigor and I prepared for months.”

She was accepted into the academy in October 2021 in a class of 26 students. It’s a six-month program, two nights a week from 5-10 p.m., followed by clinical rotation in the Grady Emergency Department and ambulances.

“My husband and son were a little nervous, but very supportive because they knew clinical work had been a lifelong dream of mine,” said Matzigkeit. “They were the only ones who knew I was doing this. I didn’t want anyone else to know until after I was licensed. I guess I had a little fear of failure.”

Matzigkeit describes the Grady EMS Academy as one of the most incredible experiences of her life.

“It was eye-opening to see the work they do at Grady,” said Matzigkeit. “It’s such an asset for our community and I’m so grateful Grady exists.”

Her stint in the ambulance was tough physically, requiring a lot of rushing and lifting. Matzigkeit cared for stroke victims, heart attack patients and the victim of a stabbing. One critical patient asked her to call his mother. That hit hard.

“I thought of my son a lot while caring for patients,” said Matzigkeit. “I thought about how I’d want a person to do all they could to care for him. I wanted to do all I could for my patients.”

Matzigkeit worried she’d be queasy at the sight of blood, but quickly realized it wouldn’t be an issue.

“You’re laser-focused when you are trying to save someone’s life and nothing like that matters,” said Matzigkeit.

When Matzigkeit graduated and received her EMT license, she went to her boss, Children’s CEO Donna Hyland, shared her secret, and asked if Children’s might hire her as an EMT for the emergency department.

“She was baffled that I went to school and did my job at the same time. She was also incredibly supportive,” said Matzigkeit.

Matzigkeit had to train for 100 hours in the Children’s emergency department, which equated to about 10 shifts. She was incognito during this training. No one knew about her day job.

“It was helpful for me to just be another staff member. I didn’t want to be treated differently. I wanted to work and learn like everyone else,” said Matzigkeit.

Her preceptor (instructor) was 22, the same age as Matzigkeit’s son.

“It was humbling, for sure,” said Matzigkeit. “She could run circles around me. She was amazing.”

As a mother, she found that taking care of babies and toddlers, and witnessing parents’ emotions, was much more difficult than caring for adults, but it was also very rewarding. She completed the training in fall 2022 and now works an average of one shift a month in the Children’s emergency department. She is also able to provide unique, helpful insight to how Children’s can better serve their employees.

“This experience helps me be a better leader,” said Matzigkeit. “I see now that these nurses are too busy to read e-mails. We need to find better ways to communicate with them. I see how important a preceptor is, how important it is to have a frontline manager checking in on the staff. I’m so grateful for the perspective I gained. I’m so happy I achieved this dream of mine and that now I get to take care of patients.”

Peyton Gully, From Patient to Nurse

Peyton Gully was a 15-year-old cross country runner when she was diagnosed with cancer. Now, at 23 years old, she is returning to where she spent so much time in treatment, Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta — not as a patient, but as a nurse.

Gully grew up in Marietta, the oldest of Brandt and Cheryl Gully’s three daughters, and attended Pope High School.

It was the fall semester of her sophomore year when the headaches began. She maintained a busy schedule between schoolwork and running, so Gully assumed high stress was the cause of the headaches. She visited a few neurologists who didn’t find anything awry, but when the pain refused to show mercy, Gully landed in the emergency room at Children’s.

“Christmas break had just ended, and I had only been back to school for a day,” said Gully. “I never imagined I wouldn’t be back in school for a year-and-a-half.”

Bloodwork was done in the ER. The results were life-altering.

“The look on the doctor’s face when he came in, I can’t imagine what’s it’s like for doctors to deliver news like this to kids and their parents,” said Gully.

Leukemia, the doctor said, but they wanted to run more tests to be sure. The subsequent tests confirmed the diagnosis. Gully, less than a year from her sweet 16, had ALL, Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.

“I remember thinking, ‘I’m going to die,’” said Gully. “My knowledge of cancer was limited to watching a grandparent pass from cancer, and I had a grandfather who had cancer at the time. I knew nothing about childhood cancer.”

Gully was admitted to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit immediately. The rest of her family rushed to her side as they grappled with the surreal news.

There was a constant rotation of doctors over the next few days as the course of treatment was mapped out. ALL, the Gullys learned, has a good prognosis and is very treatable with extensive treatment. However, after Gully was admitted to the AFLAC Center for Blood Disorders and Cancer at Scottish Rite, tests showed Gully didn’t just have ALL, she also had AML, Acute Myeloid Leukemia, a more difficult cancer to treat. It’s extremely rare to have both cancers at the same time.

She had dreamed of playing lacrosse in the spring and spending time with friends, but instead Gully received chemotherapy, radiation, and a bone marrow transplant. The cancer cells were gone after the transplant, but, just a few days before her 16th birthday, her 100-day post-transplant biopsy results showed cancer cells. She had relapsed.

“It was much harder receiving this news, knowing all I’d have to endure,” said Gully, who stayed at Children’s for six weeks after her spring transplant, her immune system depleted, her body weak. “I knew that relapsing so soon after a transplant was not good. I remember asking my dad what the relapse meant for me, and he said, ‘Peyton, it’s not good.’ Doctors told my parents my chance of survival was just 1 percent. Now I had to go through all the treatments again, knowing full well they might not work. I was 16 and fighting for my life.”

A minimum of eight months is needed between transplants. Gully had her second on Dec. 21, 2017, and endured another long stay in the hospital afterward.

“I lived at the hospital, all my stays ranging from weeks to months. It was truly my home away from home,” said Gully. “I spent Christmas there, New Year’s and I’m able to remember more of the good and happy than the hard and sad. I’m incredibly grateful for that. My friends and family gave me so much support, and all the staff at Children’s went out of their way to make me feel known and cared for.”

Gully was declared cancer free in April 2018. She returned to school her senior year and attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill to pursue a bachelor of science in nursing degree.

“All the health care workers — the social workers, the child life specialists, the sweet woman who cleaned my room every day, the doctors — they all made the biggest impact on me. I knew this is what I wanted to do one day. All of those people are one of the reasons I can look back on the experience and say I wouldn’t change a thing,” said Gully. “I want to serve patients and their families and make them feel as loved and cared for as I felt.”

Gully graduated in May and began her career at Children’s at Scottish Rite as an inpatient rehab nurse on Sept. 18.

“I’m so thankful to be on the other side,” said Gully. “I never forget that my story is not the same as so many others’ and I never want to minimize that. Every experience with illness is different. I’m not walking into this job to share my personal experience. No one needs to remember my name or my story. I just pray my story fuels me to serve with excellence. It will be a privilege to play a part in my patients’ stories.”

Matthew Caymol: Faith Over Fear

Matthew Caymol does not see himself as brave or extraordinary, but those around him do. He survived two open heart surgeries by the age of 3. Doctors said it was a miracle when he survived a horrific car accident when he was 13. Now, at 21 years old, he continues to make big strides.

Matthew was born in May 2002 with several heart defects, which were discovered during an ultrasound at 25 weeks. He had surgeries at 7 months old and 3 years old. They were considered palliative procedures to reduce the workload of his heart.

“The surgeries and recoveries didn’t shake his joyful spirit,” said Angie Caymol, Matthew’s mother. “From the time he was a baby, he’s been the same easy-going, happy guy. He’s my calm, level-headed middle child.”

Growing up, Matthew was restricted from contact sports and was told to rest when he felt tired, otherwise, everything was typical. He was close to his siblings, older sister Logan and younger brother Drew, and he loved to play basketball and baseball.

On Dec. 2, 2015, when Matthew was 13, the Caymol family experienced a life-altering tragedy. While driving home from basketball practice, Matthew, his father, Mateo, and Drew, 11, were in a car accident just 20 seconds from their new home in Buford. It was dark when a deer ran into the road. An oncoming car swerved to miss the animal and collided with the Caymols’ Honda Accord.

Angie could hear the onslaught of sirens as she surveyed a mountain of moving boxes in her garage. As the volume of the sirens grew, so did her anxiety. She began calling cell phone numbers — Mateo, Matthew, Drew — but no one answered. She got in her car and followed the high-pitched wails. She prayed she wouldn’t see a gray car but discovered an accident with two gray cars at the center of the noise.

After standing by for what felt like forever, an officer approached. He told Angie that Mateo and Matthew were both severely injured and could die, and Drew, the baby of the family, her baby, who looked like Matthew’s twin, did not survive.

Mateo had a shattered hip socket, several broken ribs, and lung issues. He was taken to one hospital while Matthew was life-flighted to another. Matthew suffered a lung collapse, traumatic brain injury, and a deep cut on his right foot that later turned septic. He was in a medically induced coma for three weeks.

“My memory from the accident is foggy,” said Matthew. “I don’t remember much of anything from before, during, or some of the after.”

Matthew’s recovery was miraculous. He came home in early February of 2016 and continued daily out-patient rehab for three months. He had physical, occupational and speech therapies for the next couple of years.

Matthew’s memory and reflexes are compromised as a result of the traumatic brain injury. He has what’s called “foot drop,” where the brain doesn’t send signals to the foot to lift. On his left leg he wears a Bioness, a brace-like e-stim device that helps improve walking abilities.

When Matthew turned 16, getting his driver’s license was not on his mind.

“It was a mix of not being sure I’d physically be able and, to be honest, I just didn’t want to,” said Matthew.

He changed his mind, however, when he was 19.

“It was his first summer back from college,” recalled Angie. “He called and told me he was ready to get his license. He said to make sure I wouldn’t let him change his mind.”

For two-and-a-half summers, Angie drove Matthew to Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta-Scottish Rite to attend their driver rehab program. Evaluation results showed he was not fit to drive using his feet but could train to drive with hand controls instead.

“I don’t remember being afraid of being in a car, but I was a bit nervous with the hand controls at first,” said Matthew.

Watching Matthew work toward his goal to drive was consistent with the character he’s shown his entire life, said his mother.

“Like everything else involving him, I was amazed,” said Angie. “His desire to work toward something without complaint, his commitment despite the difficulty, his lack of excuses and how he’s unaffected by comparison — I just admire him so much.”

Matthew earned his driver’s license on Aug.18, the day after he returned from a cross-country road trip with friends. When he returned to Clemson University to start his junior year, he did so in a new white Bronco, complete with hand controls.

When asked how he carries on without fear or bitterness, Matthew is succinct, absolute.

“The accident is always in the back of my mind. It’s a presence, but not a fear. I have the support of my family, faith in God, and faith in myself.”

More Bee(liever)s with Honey

Bob and Beverly Bradbury have the secret to health and longevity in their backyard, and a love for people in their hearts. They share it all beneath their B&B Enterprises tent at farmers markets and festivals, a continuation of a calling that came 70 years ago.

When Bob began his freshman year at Syracuse University in 1950, he chose forestry as his major. That is also the year he became a Christian. The following year he got involved in a campus ministry group, where he met his future bride, Beverly.

“She had a strong personal faith, and I was drawn to that,” said Bob, 91. “She had a wonderful sense of humor, and she and I were just in sync.”

Around the time he met Beverly, Bob began to feel like God was opening a door he hadn’t considered before.

“He was leading me to be a pastor,” said Bob. “It was a calling.”

Bob became a pastor at age 26 in New Jersey and married Beverly a year later, in 1958.

“There are so many things I loved about being a pastor,” said Bob, who retired in 1997 after 41 years at the pulpit. “When I was in seminary, I learned that you should study in the morning for sermons and after lunch you should be in the homes of your people. That’s how you find out what their needs are. A significant part of any pastor’s sermon is the application. You want to reach everyone from the 8-year-old to the 80-year-old. I loved reaching people.”

In 1962 the Bradburys moved to Bloomfield, New Jersey. During that time, they befriended a Jamaican neighbor who was raised on an organic farm and maintained that lifestyle into adulthood. Over the following 15 years, Bob and Beverly welcomed five children and their neighbor taught them all about gardening.

“It was very helpful, especially with five kids and a pastor’s salary,” quipped Bob. “We really enjoyed it. We learned everything from making our compost to canning. It’s healthy eating, great stuff, but also, I just love to get my hands down in the dirt. I don’t use gloves, I just dig in. It’s healthful in the way of building up your immune system.”

After Bloomfield, the Bradburys lived in Aliquippa, Pennsylvania, for 20 years, where they had a large, fruitful garden. They moved to Georgia after Bob retired to be near two of their five children. Bob took disaster response training and the couple got involved in short-term mission trips. They have taken more than 40 trips around the world, including Haiti, Sweden, Sri Lanka, and India.

They purchased a home in Flowery Branch with .625 acres. They have a garden that boasts over 200 kinds of flowers, 36 kinds of vegetables, 12 kinds of fruit and many herbs. They also have multiple beehives and produce their own raw wildflower honey.

It was Beverly’s idea to sell their honey at farmer’s markets. They began with the wildflower honey and their product lines have expanded to include seven flavors of honey, bee pollen, elderberry syrup, scented candles, frankincense, moisturizing cream, and hard candy.

The Bradburys attribute their good health to their homegrown lifestyle. Besides bi-monthly cholesterol injections for Bob, they couple does not require medications and are physically in shape. They love to share the benefits of their products with customers, but love diving into deeper conversations even more. Once a pastor, always a pastor.

“On the way to markets, we pray that God will lead us to those who need encouragement,” said Bob. “There’s some 68 passages in the New Testament with the phrase ‘one another’ – pray for one another, exhort one another, love one another, encourage one another daily. People can get discouraged so easily, so we seek to encourage them.”

The Bradburys set up shop at the Suwanee and Flowery Branch Farmers Markets on Saturdays and Thursdays, respectively. They sit in matching captain’s chairs, selling their products, answering questions, and frequently praying with people.

“Beverly has always had the gift of evangelism, so she’s engaging with adults and children just as much as I am,” said Bob. “The question I usually ask people is ‘what is your greatest need?’ One of the greatest needs is wisdom, because we’re constantly making decisions. We pray with people for wisdom, or whatever their need is, and we often see them again. Folks have come back and said, ‘you’re the reason I came to the market today.’ But be clear, this is not about us, but the glory of God.”

Bob and Beverly, 87, have no plans of slowing down. They have 18 grandchildren, 14 great-grandchildren, and a homegrown ministry that they love.

“We want to finish strong,” said Bob. “Psalm 92 says ‘I will make you to bear fruit in old age.’ Isn’t that a wonderful promise? We want to keep on till the Lord takes us home.”

Drew Blood Returns to the Ring

Drew Toney thought his days as professional wrestler Drew Blood were behind him, but on Sept. 2, he returned to the ring for one more fight — not for glory, but to inspire and entertain his students. It had been four years since he donned his finest spandex, but wrestling, Toney said, is like riding a bike: You never forget how it’s done.

Wrestling has been an interest of Toney’s since he was a boy.

“My earliest childhood memory is watching wrestling at my grandmother’s house,” said Toney, 41, of Travelers Rest, South Carolina. “Hulk Hogan, Ric Flair, Randy Savage, I loved them all. I couldn’t sit still and watch. I’d use pillows, people, whatever, to do what the wrestlers on TV were doing. I’d extend my hand as I walked down the hall in school, accidentally knocking things off walls as I high fived my invisible fans.”

Toney wrestled in high school and went right into the Army after graduation. While stationed in Fort Stewart, he took leave to train with Adrian Street, a professional wrestler who ran a wrestling school in Florida.

“He was very knowledgeable, and I wanted to learn from him,” said Toney. “Some schools have a reputation for abusing guys, but he wasn’t like that at all. He got to business and harped on the showman aspect of wrestling.”

During Toney’s five-year stint in the Army, he began using Drew Blood as his stage name and he wrestled weekly at shows across South Georgia, at places like fairgrounds and abandoned flea markets.

“It was just fun. I really enjoy storytelling, improv, involving the audience — all the stuff I learned from Adrian,” said Toney. “It’s a lot like improv comedy, but you can add drama, or heat as they call it in wrestling, where you get people angry. It’s entertainment.”

Toney realized early on that wrestling wasn’t going to be a full-time vocation. The expense required to create a gimmick with a wide-ranging wardrobe along with all the costs for travel outweigh the pay for the small shows and the small shows were what Toney preferred.

“I never wanted to be on TV,” said Toney. “I like the local spots, the dingy buildings, and skating rinks. They just don’t pay enough.”

Toney continued to wrestle on the weekends, but it became less frequent when he became a father in 2010. Though wrestling was something he enjoyed, he never allowed it to take from his personal life.

Years passed. The wrestling shows dwindled until they eventually stopped. Toney, a married father of four, is a teacher for the Greenville County Alternative Program. His students, who are all boys and range in age from 11 to 21 years old, are in group homes for an array of reasons, from their own behavior, to neglect and abuse. Many of the students are orphaned and many struggle with mental health issues.

“I have a great repertoire with the students. I love them and feel bonded to them,” said Toney. “I want to be consistent with them and show them I care. I know some of them have no one else.”

To reward his students for working hard and meeting goals, Toney shows them his old wrestling videos. Back when he was still wrestling, he’d even let the boys choose his outfits, making them feel like part of the act.

Though he wasn’t wrestling anymore, Toney’s passion for the sport continued through his writing. He self-published a book, a western with a wrestling theme called “Catch as Catch Can,” in 2021, and is in the process of writing the sequel. Still, his students craved the action.

“The kids who’ve been around a while ask all the time when I’m going to wrestle again,” said Toney. “Then my old tag team partner, Timothy Coursey, wrestling name David Raines, asked me to join him for one more show to fulfill his bucket list. It’d been years, but I decided to go for it one more time.”

Toney made his return at the Wild Card Match hosted by Southern Fried Championship Wrestling in Monroe at The Boys & Girls Club.

“There was no practice beforehand,” said Toney. “If I was going to get hurt, I’d rather it be in the ring.”

Toney, clad in red and yellow spandex, and his partner had the crowd roiling with laugher over their elaborate entrance which mimicked a scene from “Titanic.” The duo lost the match, as was their role, and Toney walked away with both a sense of finality and excitement to share the experience with his students.

“It was definitely worth it,” said Toney. “I’m fortunate that I was able to have a nice bookend, whereas some guys don’t stop until an injury forces them to. My wrestling days are over, but I’m glad I could do this for my students. It shows them that it’s OK to be vulnerable and funny. They see me lose, they see how I embrace it and accept it, and for inner-city youth, that is a hard pill to swallow. I want to show them unwavering confidence, win, lose, or draw.”

Steve Disney: The Most Colorful Braves Fan

Photo by Hyosub Shin

The 100-plus tattoos that cover Steve Disney’s body tell the stories of his life — of family, faith, redemption and, featured on his right leg, a chapter dedicated to the Atlanta Braves.

Disney doesn’t know exactly how many Braves tattoos wrap that leg. He guesses somewhere in the ballpark of 30. But he’s certain he’ll step up to the plate — err, tattoo chair — for more red and blue ink soon. That’s because the 65-year-old Johns Creek resident has become obsessed with tattoos since he got his first at age 60.

But before Disney recounts his tattoos, he needs to unfurl his lifelong love of the Braves.

When the Milwaukee Braves became the Atlanta Braves in 1966, Disney was 8 years old. His family of four lived in Marietta, and the trips to the Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, where the Braves played till 1996, became a treat.

“We drove into the big city, and it felt like an adventure, a vacation. It wasn’t something we could do all the time,” said Disney. “Tickets were a dollar or so for kids. Sometimes we’d go as a family. Sometimes it was just me, my dad and big brother, or it was a Little League outing. I was wearing my Little League uniform in my first picture taken at a Braves game.”

Disney, an athletic kid who was pretty good at baseball and loved collecting baseball cards, was captivated by the major league games. His memories are vivid and action-packed, none more so than when he witnessed Hank Aaron’s 500th home run on July 14, 1968. There was an uproar, a celebration — and a 10-year-old Disney with stars in his eyes.

“Back then, there were probably 12 players who had hit that many homers. It was a huge deal,” said Disney. “They handed out business cards at the game with a picture of Aaron. It said, ‘I was there when Hank hit his 500th home run.’ I wrote on the back of it: ‘To Steve, From Hank’ and signed his name. I went to school and told everyone I got Hank Aaron’s autograph.”

Disney’s love for the Braves continued as he grew older. He continued to attend a handful of games each season. He watched games religiously on TBS, kept up with the team in the sports section and was thrilled when ESPN’s “SportsCenter” came onto the scene in 1979, so he could follow the Braves there, too.

Aside from watching hall of famer Phil Niekro, one of his all-time favorites, Disney said the 1980s weren’t an exhilarating decade for the Braves. He could get a game ticket for a few bucks and nab a seat by the dugout because fans were sparse. During this lull for his team, Disney was dealing with struggles of his own.

“I was a big-time partier back in the day — cocaine, booze, all of that. I ran around Atlanta doing all kinds of crazy stuff,” said Disney, now a poker tournament director. “Eventually, I was at the end of my line. I called my dad and told him I had a problem. He said it was about time I admitted it. I quit it all on March 11, 1986. I went to rehab and an outpatient program, meetings for Cocaine Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous. I built my sobriety day by day.”

Sobriety changed everything.

“I made all new friends because I didn’t have the same kind of fun as my old friends anymore. I was proud I got sober before both my parents passed away,” he said. “My life became more focused. I probably watched more baseball than ever around that time. Then came the ’90s and we really started getting good. That’s when I became a fanatic.”

John Smoltz, Mark Glavine and Greg Maddux led a resurgence for the Braves. Disney cheered on the team when it won the pennant in 1991.

“The city went nuts,” said Disney, who owns an impressive collection of Braves shirts and hats. “The buzz in the city was something else.”

Chipper Jones, another favorite of Disney’s, joined the Braves in 1993. And then the team won the World Series in 1995.

Exciting as baseball was for Disney, life got even better when he became the father to three in the late 1990s, two boys and a girl.

“As they grew up, I became a baseball dad, taking them to Braves games like my dad did with me,” said Disney, fondly. “You know, I never caught a foul ball, but my son caught two at Turner Field. I was proud and pissed off at the same time.”

Disney refers to his kids as his “Disney World.” Austin, Morgan and Connor, all in their mid- to late-20s now, are the greatest gifts in his life, he said.

In 2018, after years of begging, Connor, who was 20 at the time, talked his dad into getting a tattoo with him.

“I’d held him off for a long time, telling him my generation only had tattoos if they were in the military, jail or a biker gang,” said Disney with a guffaw. “He was relentless though, and I finally gave in. I was a little nervous. I asked a lot of questions. I watched Connor go first and took pictures. He got a Bible verse on his arm. I got a tattoo on my left forearm. I chose my kids’ names with an infinity symbol. I’m proud of it. I felt like a cool 60-year-old dad. After that one, I told David, the tattoo artist, I’d be back.”

True to his word, Disney returned the following week and added “My Life” above the kids’ names and “My Disney World” beneath.

“I get lots of looks and stares, but I don’t mind. I actually like it. They’re conversation starters,” said Disney. “The funniest thing I’ve heard is ‘Why’d you wait till you were almost dead to get them?’”

His response: “I have one life to live, and I’m going to enjoy it.”

Disney began visiting David Witucki at Pür Ink Tattoo and Piercings in Johns Creek about every other week.

“My original tattoos were in regard to my family and my recovery, which I wear like a flag,” said Disney. “At first, I aimed for the whole ‘business in the front, party in the back’ deal, where just my left arm would be decorated, and I’d keep the right one clean. But I got addicted to the art of tattooing. It hurts at times, but it’s peaceful to sit in that chair. It’s an escape. I enjoy telling my story this way. It’s nothing crazy important to anyone else, but it is to me.”

Disney’s left leg is covered in with characters from “Toy Story,” his kids’ favorite movie from childhood. He has quotes related to his sobriety and a nod to Virginia Tech football in honor of his dad, who was a big fan of the Hokies. And, of course, there’s his Braves leg.

Disney’s dozens of Braves tattoos include new and nostalgic Braves logos, tomahawks, hall of famer numbers and silhouettes of Hank Aaron and Chipper Jones. The Braves won the World Series in October 2021, and the next month Disney had an image of the trophy added to his collection. Then he was thrown a curveball.

“I was diagnosed with esophageal cancer in November 2021,” said Disney before his voice breaks. “I didn’t tell my kids immediately. I didn’t want to ruin their holidays. No surgery could be done, but I started chemo and radiation. I stopped getting tattoos because it’s not good for your immune system.”

Though he still has issues with his esophagus and continues to get chemo infusions every few weeks, Disney is cancer free. Just as his son repeatedly asked him to get tattooed for years, Disney repeatedly asked his oncologist when he could return to the tattoo chair. Permission was granted in May. The first tattoo he got upon his return was a big “A” logo for the Braves and the words “2021 champions.”

When asked what his next Braves ink will be, Disney doesn’t hesitate.

“I think I’ll add guys like Austin Riley, Ozzie Albies and Matt Olson, and hopefully another championship trophy.”



Kenzie Kelley

At 13 years old, many girls are in the early stages of puberty, but when Kenzie Kelley was 13, she went through menopause. Now, a decade later, she hopes to use her experience to help women who struggle with fertility through her non-profit, the Whole Foundation Co.

“My period had stopped, and I didn’t tell anyone,” said Kelley, now 23, of Flowery Branch. “I was very young and innocent-minded. I didn’t know why it stopped. I had never done anything — I thought I was like the Virgin Mary.”

After going without her period for a year, Kelley began experiencing hot flashes, she gained weight rapidly, and she became very forgetful. Her mother took her to the pediatrician who said that while the symptoms mimicked post-menopausal symptoms, there was no way that’s what it was.

Kelley changed pediatricians several times and eventually met with her mother’s obstetrician. The OB did a full bloodwork panel and discovered that Kelley’s follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH) was 180, the equivalent of an 80-year-old woman’s FSH level. It should have been 10 or less for a 13-year-old. There was no evidence of follicles or eggs, and Kelley’s uterus was thin because there was not a supply of hormones to keep it healthy.

“When the doctor saw all of that, she thought I had a tumor, maybe ovarian cancer,” said Kelley. “I had more testing, but there were no tumors or anything suspicious. That’s when we went to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester to figure out why this was happening.”

Kelley was at the Mayo Clinic three times for two-week stretches during her teens.

“They combed through every part of me,” said Kelley. “I left with 14 other diagnoses, but they never figured out the reason for what they called premature ovarian failure — a nice way of saying early menopause.”

Kelley’s mom gave birth to five children and never experienced fertility issues. Her grandmother went through menopause at 29, but doctors ruled that out as a connection to Kelley’s early menopause. She was placed on hormone replacement therapy to build up her uterine lining and to prevent uterine and ovarian cancers, which are more common in post-menopausal women. Kelley was also checked for osteoporosis, as bone loss typically increases after menopause. Doctors told her she had only a 5% chance of spontaneous pregnancy.

“I didn’t fully comprehend what that meant at the time,” said Kelley. “I was in high school. My mind wasn’t on fertility.”

It was, however, focused on love. Kelley was just 14 when she met Shane Adams, her husband of five years.

“We always felt a couple steps ahead and knew we wanted to get married young,” said Kelley. “Maybe it was my diagnosis, but I grew up fast and he was with me through all of that.”

Kelley began to feel the gravity of infertility after being married for a while.

“The path isn’t straight or narrow. Sometimes it feels like there’s no path at all,” said Kelley. “It created an identity crisis for me. There’s this worldly view that I should be able to reproduce and when you’re unable to, you’re not sure what you’re meant for. My identity is in Christ, but sometimes it’s hard not to focus on worldly things.”

In fall of 2022, Kelley and Adams pursued egg adoption. They quickly learned that it was extremely expensive. They applied for loans and grants and were denied by all of them. When those doors shut, they took it as a sign that the timing wasn’t right, and Kelley shifted her focus to a new mission.

“I want to create something that will help the infertility community with education, resources and financial alleviation,” said Kelley. “I want to create a retreat for anyone with infertility, I want to write about my story, participate in speaking engagements — anything I can do to bring awareness.”

Her non-profit, which launched in May 2023, is called the Whole Foundation Co.

“I chose ‘whole’ because something that was always in my head was that I didn’t feel like a whole person, like something was missing. I don’t want anyone to feel that way,” said Kelley. “No matter your diagnosis, you’re whole. You’re valued, you’re worthy.”

Kelley has found peace with her diagnosis and, while she hopes children are in her and Shane’s future, she has found acceptance with whatever comes.

“I’d love to look into adoption, or egg donation again,” said Kelley. “I’d love to become a mother one day, but also, I look at the word ‘mother’ as a broad term. It can be a sense of mentorship, biological or not. It’s being there to help people in any way, and I know I can do that.”

To learn more about the Whole Foundation Co., visit www.wholefoundationco.org

One Hell of a Golf Round

It was July 24 when Jason Aussin, his dad Tony Aussin, his grandfather Jose Aussin, and a family friend were headed to the Chattahoochee Golf Club in Gainesville for a noon tee time.

While Jason and his grandfather rode side by side in the backseat, they decided they’d share a golf cart for the day. Jose joked with his grandson and asked if he’d be able to take care of him during the round. Jason said, “Don’t worry, Pops, I know CPR, you’re good.” Jose laughed and said he didn’t think that would be necessary.

The Aussin family is extremely tightknit. They talk on the phone often and take vacations together. Though Jason’s grandparents and uncle live in Chicago, they visit a couple times a year. Jose was the captain of the Mexican national soccer team in his younger years and is still a competitive golfer at 81, so sports are always incorporated into family visits.

“It was a hot day, but Pops was taking it easy,” said Jason, 20, a junior on the Piedmont University soccer team in Demorest. “He’d drive to each hole, hit his ball, and sit back down.”

The foursome was on their 6th hole of the round, a Par 4. Jose gave his grandson a few tips as he used his 3 wood, which resulted in Jason hitting the best shot of his life with that club. All four men chipped their balls to the green, then Jose called out to his son.

“He said his name in a kind of surprised way, kind of muffled,” recalled Jason. “Then he said it again and started falling. We thought he might be messing around, but when he sat down, his head went limp, then hit the ground.”

The men rushed over to Jose, whose breathing was erratic. They thought maybe he was having a heat stroke. They asked a cart girl to call 911, then poured water on Jose’s head. That’s when he stopped breathing.

“I checked his pulse and breathing and there was nothing,” said Jason. “I told my dad I had to start CPR. He said, ‘You’re the one who is certified, I trust you.’”

For the past three years, Jason has worked as a lifeguard at the Wills Park Pool in Alpharetta. That is where he got certified for CPR, which he just renewed this summer, as is required to do every two years.

“It was fresh in my brain, thank God,” said Jason, who had never had to administer CPR before.

Jason began compressions, 30 at a time, on his grandfather’s chest, then titled his head back so air could get into his lungs. He instructed his father to give two breaths.

“I’ve never seen anyone, even CPR certified, give better breaths,” said Jason. “I don’t know if it was adrenaline or what, but my dad killed it.”

On the third round of compressions, there was the indistinguishable sound of ribs snapping, which is not uncommon during CPR. The cart girl asked if there was anything else she could do and Jason requested an AED, an automated external defibrillator.

“That device is incredible,” said Aussin. “It literally tells you what to do, it’s dummy proof. I continued doing CPR until the AED said it was ready. We pulled up his shirt, put the pads on and hit the button. It analyzed his heartbeat for 15 seconds, then the shock was ready. We stood clear, hit the shock, and my grandpa, still unconscious and purple, launched up in the air.”

Jason and Tony continued CPR and used the AED once more until EMS arrived. By the time Jose was moved to the ambulance, he had a pulse and was breathing.

The EMS and firemen shook Jason’s hand and said he was the reason his grandfather was alive.

“That meant a lot to me, but really, I don’t think I could have done it without my dad,” said Jason.

Tony dismissed the credit and said his son is the hero. He describes Jason as a very measured person.

“He doesn’t panic or choke under pressure, and that’s how he was on the golf course that day,” said Tony. “He was calm and collected, as always. I’m so proud. Every time I see him, I hug him and tell him he saved Grandpa’s life.”

When Jose woke in the hospital days later, he remembered nothing. He was emotional when he learned what his grandson had done. Over the following days, he complained about chest pain. Jason told him it was because he broke his ribs doing CPR. Without missing a beat, Jose playfully raised a fist at his grandson.

“We told him he was winning the round before everything happened and he said, ‘of course I was winning’,” said Jason, laughing. “I told him, ‘You know what this means, right? I better be getting one hell of a birthday present.’”

Jose, who was hospitalized for weeks after the incident, will return to Chicago soon and Jason is back on campus, busy with school and sports, and spreading the word about the importance of CPR.

“I want to share my story and encourage people to get certified,” said Jason. “Trust me, you just never know when you may need it. That was one hell of a golf round.”

Prince's Final Hike

Every dog has its day and for golden retriever Prince, that was Aug. 20, the day of his final hike.

Mary Santana and her son, Bryan Santana, adopted Prince, now 10 (or 70 in dog years), as a puppy when Bryan was a senior in high school. Prince is a very friendly, affectionate dog, especially with Bryan. When he left for college, Prince would sleep in his empty room. When Bryan moved to Ohio for his first job after college, Prince moved with him. Bryan recently moved back to Georgia, and Prince is temporarily in his puppyhood home with Mary in Lawrenceville.

Mary and Bryan have always shared an active lifestyle, favoring outdoor time above all. They, along with Prince and Bryan’s girlfriend, met at Panther Creek Falls that August Saturday for a hike and picnic.

Panther Creek Falls is a nearly nine-mile trail in Clarkesville, surrounded by a series of waterfalls and towering trees. It’s an intense trail to hike, especially during Georgia’s dog days of summer.

“Prince was fine in the beginning, but when he started to slow down, we gave him lots of breaks for rest and water and stopped for a longer stretch to have our picnic,” said Bryan, 27. “When we were done, Prince walked about 50 yards before he laid down. We knew he couldn’t go any farther on his own.”

Bryan’s first idea was to carry his 100-pound dog across his shoulders, but with more than 4 miles to traverse, that plan was short-lived. Next, he found a long, thick stick and took a hammock from his hiking backpack. They had Prince lay in the center of the hammock, then tied the ends of it to the ends of the stick. Mother and son, she in the back, he in the front, each put an end of the stick atop their shoulder and began to walk.

They hadn’t gotten far when their path intersected with that of Cheryl Hite, 66, of Ellijay, a member of S.A.F.E. (Stay Active Friends of Ellijay), a group that gathers to hike and kayak in North Georgia.

“I immediately recognized they needed help and stepped in,” said Hite. “I suggested we alter the hammock and use it as a sling under Prince’s belly to see if he could bear any weight, but he couldn’t. We put him back in the hammock and I took over carrying the back end of the stick, so Mary could walk by Prince.”

The walk was challenging. Bryan and Hite focused on synchronizing their steps so the dog wouldn’t swing in the hammock, and Bryan prepared Hite for the rocks and roots ahead. They would alternate shoulders, but they tried to keep moving, because it was too hard to stop.

After travelling about 40 minutes, a gentleman with a dog approached and offered to help.

“His dog was so well-trained,” said Hite. “He went straight to Prince, nose to nose, and calmed him. He walked by his side the rest of the way.”

As the group trudged on, rotating positions every so often, more people joined the effort to help Prince. Soon a group of 13 strangers surrounded Prince and the Santanas.

“It was so emotional to see more and more people come up and ask if they could help,” said Hite. “No one was asked to; they were just drawn toward the situation. These were people who spoke different languages, had different cultures, strangers of all ages from different walks of life who pitched in to help other strangers and their dog. It was beautiful.”

There were areas where the inclines were so steep, it was impossible to climb and carry the dog, so the group formed a chain and passed Prince down the line of people. They used the same tactic at multiple water crossings. They had to maneuver over big rocks, duck under tree limbs, and manage terrain that was slippery due to erosion.

A tear rolled down Bryan’s face as he observed everyone’s efforts.

“I was so moved,” said Bryan. “It’s amazing how people came together to help. We were united, not just physically, but emotionally, all for Prince.”

At one point, Bryan’s calf muscle cramped, and he collapsed. Hite gave Bryan mustard, pickle juice, and arnica, all emergency aides she keeps in her backpack for cramps.

After more than three hours, around 7:30 p.m., the rescue crew crossed the finish line. They were wet, muddy, dog-tired, and elated.

“We would’ve never gotten Prince out by sunset if not for all those people,” said Bryan, his gratitude palpable.

Before everyone went their separate ways, they gathered around Prince for a group photo. The Santanas expressed sincere thanks and took their beloved dog home to rest.

Going forward, Bryan said he plans to stock his backpack with even more supplies for emergency situations.

“I wish there was a way I could repay all the people who helped us,” said Bryan. “If nothing else, I’ll be ready to pay it forward.”

As for Prince, he is well. The Santanas followed up with their vet who instructed them to give electrolytes and prescribed arthritis medication. Prince has retired from hiking but is happy and spoiled with loads of love and attention, Bryan said.

“He’s lived up to his name. He’s a true prince.”