Monthly Archives: July 2016

Remembering the guardian of Topton’s history

I had heard the name Virginia “Ginny” Ebersole numerous times after the 2000 creation of Diakon that brought The Lutheran Home at Topton into my work-life, typically as the guardian of The Lutheran Home’s history as an orphanage.

Because I had a similar role in safeguarding the records of the children’s home operated by Tressler Lutheran Services—my former organization before the Diakon merger—I felt a sort of kinship with Ginny, even though the similarities ended there.

Ginny, after all, had actually grown up in the children’s home and then returned in retirement to the place of her childhood, living in one of independent-living cottages at The Lutheran Home, now a senior living community.

Although I had the privilege to work with Ginny the past two years, I wish I had learned to know her personally sooner because her commitment to protecting and preserving the history of the home was both outstanding and amazing. When someone wanted to know the history of a child who had been served by the home, everyone immediately turned to Ginny for that information.

But no longer. Virginia B. (Baer) Ebersole passed away last Sunday, July 24, at the age of 88.

Ginny lovingly told stories of her time at the home, to which she moved in 1933 when her mother passed away; her father’s work schedule made it difficult for him to take care of his family.

“We spent most days learning and studying, taking part in various activities including plays, and doing chores,” Ginny said during an interview for a 2014 Dialog article about her. “But the most important things we learned were respect, responsibility and how to work.”

When she turned 18, she left the home, typical for children coming of age. She married, raised a family and worked well into her 60s. When she and her late husband retired, the decision to return to Topton was an easy one.

Before long, Ginny became the unofficial archivist for Topton’s records.

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“Ginny worked diligently to preserve the artifacts and rich history of the services provided by the orphanage at The Lutheran Home at Topton,” says Mark Pile, Diakon president/CEO. “She did this excellent volunteer work out of her love for and her personal roots at the orphanage and for the many friendships she maintained with those who lived at Topton, as well as the family and friends who have been part of that history. She will be deeply missed.”

My direct work with Ginny came the last two years as both of us served as members of the committee developing the planned restoration of Old Main, to house a permanency center related to Diakon Adoption & Foster Care—in many ways the direct descendant of the children’s home—and offices for Diakon Ministry Support.

She was very excited about this planned rebirth of the iconic building that in many ways defines The Lutheran Home at Topton campus.

Another communications staff member and I met with Ginny early on in this process to determine the extent of the archives she managed. One issue at the time was that, a year or two before, the original book that contains the names of the children served at Topton had gone missing. While there were copies of those records, Ginny was upset over the loss of this artifact.

During our tour of one section of the archives that day, I asked Ginny to describe the book. As she finished her description, I happened to look over to one shelf and something quite similar to her description caught my eye. I asked, “What is that?”

Her eyes widened and began to gleam. It was the book.

Obviously, whoever had taken the book had returned it to that spot unannounced. While we really had no significant role in finding the book, I have to say it was very gratifying to know that our trip had resulted in returning it to Ginny’s safekeeping.

Our hearts were gladdened just by the look on Ginny’s face.

I wish Ginny had lived to see the Old Main project completed, to see the building refurbished and renovated and serving its original purpose anew. But perhaps it is enough that she knew the project was under way.

And as we work to preserve the history of The Lutheran Home at Topton in this project, I know many of us will think frequently of Ginny.

I know as well that her spirit will be right there with us.

By William Swanger
Senior Vice President
Corporate Communications & Public Relations

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An honor, a privilege

Some believe that knowing your life’s journey is coming to an end can be a blessing of sorts. You have an opportunity to say goodbyes and perhaps even let go on your own terms—but knowing certainly does not always make the process easier.

At Manatawny Manor, we recently helped a chronically ill resident and her family members face such a struggle. Our chaplain, the Rev. Roxi Kringle, has a special way of discussing end-of-life issues. She engages in a heartfelt conversation with individuals and their loved ones, asking about wishes and goals. Is there something the person would like to do, a place to visit, favorite foods?

“Jane”—her name has been changed because of health-care rules—had been a resident of Manatawny Manor for several years but, some months back, we could see that she was declining rapidly. We also noticed that she and her family were having a tough time facing this decline and so we made plans for them to speak with our chaplain.

In that conversation, Roxi learned of Jane’s passion for horses and her desire to be around them one last time. Jane’s daughters very much wanted to make that happen for their mother, in spite of the challenges involved in taking her on such an outing.

But by some miracle—maybe Janes’s guardian angel was pulling a few strings—everything began to fall into place for her wish to become true.

I have a friend who volunteers at Ryerss Farm for Aged Equines in Pottstown, a place for “retired” horses—mostly race horses and those used by police—to live out their days. And so on a Sunday afternoon I accompanied Jane and her husband in Manatawny’s transport van to the horse farm, where we met extended-family members. Although it was late winter, the day was sunny and somewhat mild.

Jane was able to pet, hug and feed the horses.

Two days later, she passed away. Her family held a memorial service at our senior living community and, in her honor, chose to sponsor a horse at Ryerss Farm for a year.

It was an honor and a privilege to have helped Jane and her family, not only by providing daily care to her but also by helping to give her a special day so near the end of her life’s journey.

Kelli Brown, RN
Director of Nursing
Manatawny Manor

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Climbing a phone-tree … to view the past

When you work in communications, your daily tasks can be pretty varied, from developing an entire strategic plan to … well … redoing a phone tree.

What’s a phone tree?

It’s the sequence of options people hear when they call a main number for an organization … you know, “to speak to this program, press 1,” and so on. I don’t do any of the technical phone stuff; rather, I review the sequence of the tree, edit the accompanying text and arrange for the professional recording you hear.

Diakon had not revised its tree for a while and when I began the update process, I found I had quite a few changes to make, sometimes because programs had been transitioned to other providers, sometimes because they had moved geographically or administratively or, in an instance or two, because they had closed.

In some ways, tackling a phone-tree update is a history review.

The process reminds me of the challenges sometimes involved in such transitions. In fact, a friend whose group membership dwindled by the month refused to consider making changes that would have potentially broadened membership. Rather than dilute the group’s primary purpose, he said, he’d rather—like a good captain—go down with the ship. I guess that’s okay, but that approach certainly does not sustain the group’s original purpose. Sort of a lose-lose proposition.

These statements do not make light of the difficulties of some changes. A program closure can certainly mean loss of employment for a number of people.

Yet I’m proud of the fact most of the history reflected in the recent Diakon phone-tree update—because of a refocusing and sharpening of Diakon’s core ministries—represented the transitioning of programs to other organizations providing similar services. In these cases, a win-win proposition.

We may not always have had phone-trees, but our near-150-year history is filled with developments that would have resulted in changes to those trees. Perhaps the most-significant were the closures of our two children’s homes, processes that represented moves to community-based services for children and youths.

Now, a half-century after those closures, we’re set to begin the rebirth of one of those homes’ key buildings, Old Main on the campus of The Lutheran Home at Topton, through a major construction project set to begin late this year. (LINK TO NEWS ARTICLE).

When the work is completed, and a Center for Permanency created on Old Main’s second floor, the building will have come full circle, once again housing services for at-risk children and youths. In addition, Diakon will have emphasized wise stewardship of resources by relocating some Ministry Support offices from leased space to Old Main.

And it will be time for one more phone-tree update.

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Mission possible

My alarm went off at 5 a.m. and I hit snooze. It was still dark outside and I wondered how on earth I would get these teenage girls up and out the door by 5:45 a.m. I flipped on the light after warning them with a 3-2-1 count and then I ran to get in line for the bathroom we shared with about 20 other females in the area to which we’d been assigned in a church.

Thankfully, I had to remind them only once to get up. They knew they had to get to breakfast in time to eat and pack their lunches before heading out to our job sites. The earlier we left, the sooner we could finish before temperatures became unbearable.

This was our morning routine during a youth mission trip to McColl, South Carolina, where about 20 adults and 60 teenagers volunteered to repair broken homes and, while doing so, also fix some broken hearts.

This trip, taken in late June, was my first mission trip with my two younger daughters, who are 16 and 14. I had received approval to use Diakon’s Love of Thy Neighbor fund to assist with the trip; the fund provided extra paid vacation days, as well as some grant money to use toward travel expenses.

After reading stories from co-workers who did mission work and learning how much they helped others beyond what we do during our typical work days, I wanted to do the same thing.

I am not what you would call a “skilled worker” when it comes to any kind of home repair. I thought maybe I could stay behind to prepare meals or oversee teens doing some painting.

Nope.

I was assigned to put a metal roof on a double-wide trailer for an older woman named Mary. My team did not actually include my daughters, but consisted of a jewelry-store owner, a biochemist and several other teenagers. I didn’t know any of them before that week and none of us had ever done roofing.

We basically learned about roofing and one another as the week went on. And to make the situation even more challenging, Mary had a plumbing problem so her water had been shut off. We borrowed water from a neighbor’s hose as we needed it.

As the week progressed and temperatures rose, we became roofers. We shared lunches, tools, stories and sunscreen. Lots of sunscreen. We joked that we would start our own roofing company when we got back to Pennsylvania called Close Enough Roofing because as the day wore on, the measuring tape became a little more subjective.

We never got to meet our homeowner because even though we arrived between 6 and 6:30 each morning, she was already at work. She left her back door unlocked for us to go inside—where she had her window air conditioning units turned on full power for us. It felt like heaven when we stepped inside to take a break.

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On our last day we had to request help from another group that had finished a different roofing project close by. Our roof was 80% covered in metal at that point and the heat index had risen to 104 by the afternoon. Moreover, we had reached a point on the roof where the final section required more-extensive repair than simply screwing on metal panels to the fascia boards we had installed. We needed someone with a little more roofing experience.

About 2 p.m., the other group showed up—and its leader happened also to be a professional roofer. It was like seeing the cavalry ride in! The group dropped off additional volunteers to stay with us and because leaders knew we had already put in a full day on a hot metal roof, they yelled up to our group, asking who wanted to leave.

Nobody left. The mission was too important.

We had become too invested in our team and that roof to abandon each other for the showers, dinner and air mattresses awaiting us at the air-conditioned church. We would work until dark if we needed to but we weren’t leaving until the roof was finished. Thankfully, about 10 hours after we had arrived, we pulled out of Mary’s driveway, having completed the project in time to be back for dinner.

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We never did get to meet Mary, but I did get to meet her sister during our last night there. She was a member of the church that hosted us and she had added Mary’s name to the list of those in need of some much-needed home repair.

She hugged me and cried, telling me we were an answer to her prayers. I thought to myself, God is quite creative. He picked me, a jewelry-store owner, a biochemist and some compassionate teenagers from Pennsylvania to answer the prayers of a dear older woman in South Carolina. And because of that strange, but perfectly orchestrated encounter, my life has been changed, too!

Many of the people our group helped that week could not understand why we would take a week to travel 10 hours to help their community. I couldn’t help but wonder why wouldn’t we do it?

We certainly gained as much as we gave that week: Fresh perspectives, friendships and a better understanding of God’s faithfulness.

I can’t wait to return next year.

By Melissa Kindall
Social Media and Special Communications Project Manager
Corporate Communications & Public Relations

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