Glimpsing the Spark

At 9:15 one weekday morning, I pulled up to a voluminous metal building at our little county airport and let myself in through a metal door. Inside, several people looked up from their seats at a long table, clearly startled. A woman got up quickly and came toward me with a protective air. But she recognized me, and her face relaxed into a smile.

I had come to visit the Monarch Beach Club, a program that cares for Outer Banks men and women with intellectual or developmental disabilities like cerebral palsy or autism. Club members are too old to go to school. They’re the people society cruelly hides away, the ones often greeted by stares or, alternately, turned backs. Without the Beach Club, they would have been isolated at home, most likely being cared for by their parents.

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AuthorJan DeBlieu
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Give a $100 a Day to Strangers?

Recently I posted a new blog on the Huffington Post about a Portland doctor who decided to give $100 to a stranger, every day for a month. Jill Ginsberg hoped her experiment in street philanthropy would help her rid herself of a persistent fear that she would somehow fall into poverty. In the process she learned a great deal about "neediness" and her own assumptions about the poor.

It's a great story, and you can read it here. 

Jill Ginsberg gives $100 to a stranger on a Portland bus. Bruce Ely photograph, The Oregonian.

Jill Ginsberg gives $100 to a stranger on a Portland bus. Bruce Ely photograph, The Oregonian.

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Two Short Stories of Service

What would you do if you saw a barefoot homeless woman on a bitterly cold  winter night? 

My friend Estera lives in Seattle and takes the bus to work. A few days ago I received this email message from her:

“I have to tell you this while it’s fresh in my mind.  My bus goes by a women’s work-release group home.  As usual on this early-morning bus, several young women get on there and make their way to the back. They’re just behind me, talking about homeless people, I think, particularly about one woman downtown whose shoes are so small for her that she has to cut open the toes to make her feet fit in. They’re brainstorming who might have a pair of shoes that would fit so they can give them to her. Then one woman tells this story:

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What to Say When Someone Dies

I've been doing some blogging recently for the Huffington Post. My last blog entry discusses several odd experiences that Jeff and I had after we lost Reid. People would approach us, clearly wishing to give us solace--and then do or say something completely inappropriate. 

We didn't let the bereavement gaffs bother us too much. More than anything, I felt bad for the people who made them. So I decided to write something on the topic. You can find my column here:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jan-deblieu/what-to-say-when-someone-_b_5774422.html

You can find my other blog entires in the Huff Post simply by typing Jan DeBlieu into the Search bar.

Friends helped plant a garden at the crash site where Reid was killed--one of the kindest and most effective gestures anyone made.

Friends helped plant a garden at the crash site where Reid was killed--one of the kindest and most effective gestures anyone made.


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