“Thank You, Brothers at Wabash”
My husband, George, and I want to thank all the men who contributed articles about depression and suicide to WM Spring/Summer 2017 [Walking Beside Each Other].
We lost our son, Geoff Faerber ’98, six years ago.
Since Geoff’s death I have worked to learn all I can about depression as a true illness, and I am an advocate for true medical diagnostic tools for illnesses of the brain.
At the current time these illnesses are diagnosed by talking to the person. As with any other illness, there needs to be real medical tools—be it a brain scan or a blood test—to diagnose these illnesses.
At the time of Geoff’s illness, I did not recognize depression as a true illness. I believed it was an attitude that could be adjusted by a change of environment, physical activity, or attitude.
I have come to learn I was very, very wrong.
Thank you for the open and honest articles, including this quote from Steve Charles: “There is wisdom, not shame, in asking for help.”
“Breaking Out of the Cage” by Tim Padgett ’84 has some excellent statements that are so very true and good descriptions of the seven symptoms.
“A Sense of Urgency” by Dr. Chris Bojrab ’89 has wonderful quotes: “Depression is a brain disease…Depression is not just a neuro-chemical, a neurological-psychological disorder: This is a large-brain structure disorder…”
“Walking Beside Each Other” by Christina Egbert is a courageous discussion by men “left behind” and does a beautiful job of expressing all our feelings.
The stigma of illnesses of the brain will go away when we can all come to grips that, like cancer in any part of the body, the brain is an organ that gets sick and has real changes. It is a medical issue—“Depression is an inflammatory process.”
Thank you, brothers at Wabash, for helping educate us all.
I tell people our son died of an illness. It is called depression. I wish I knew then what I know now.
As Dr. Bojrab said, “Get help, and help your brothers get help.”
PAMELA FAERBER
Empowering Families Facing Depression Zionsville, IN
“Trying Something New”
I loved Steve Hoffman’s article about Jon Matsey ’97 (Hoff’s Corner: “One Play”) in WM Spring/Summer 2017.
I made both my boys read it because I think it speaks to several important values: Never give up; you always need to practice/put in the effort to reach your goals; and great things can happen from trying something new.
These are things we work with the boys on, but it was good for them to see the impact it had on both coach and player.
CRAIG MILLER ’97
Frankfort, IL
Keeping Active
We get many alumni magazines. WM is the best of the bunch.
I opened the latest to see a terrific photo of my fraternity brother and national champion Dave Montieth ’67 clearing a high jump bar at age 72. Dave was always talented—50 years after his graduation the school record is only about 1.5 inches higher than his best.
Dave inspired me to share how I keep active.
In 2008 I was in an accident during a bicycle race. My neck was broken in two places. After four hours of surgery and a year of intensive rehab I decided to try to race again. Because five of my cervical vertebrae are fused, I must ride a recumbent bike.
Since then I have competed more than 50 times in running, triathlon, and bike races. Most of the time I win my age group.
Thanks, and keep giving us great reasons to read WM.
JOHN A. BURRELL '69
Highland Park, IL
The Day After Kent State
I am always thrilled to receive WM. It is always of high quality and the stories about Wabash people are fascinating.
As someone who has been successfully treated for depression for a long time, I am overwhelmed but not surprised by the Wabash College response to the issue.
I left Wabash on May 5, 1970—the day after the Kent State student murders. I did not return. As a result, I didn't graduate, but have been proud to be a member of the class of 1970.
The most influential Wabash person for me was Dean Norman Moore H’63. His guidance and encouragement even as I “failed” helped me move on successfully. I drove to Boston on May 5, 1970, and was able to build a great life.
There is no question that all the gifts from Wabash—e.g, the Gentlemen's Rule—have been instrumental in my full life.
My best to you and all the staff that brings these great stories to the alumni.
BOB LESLIE ’70
White Plains, NY
“I Will Never Stop Singing”
The Spring/Summer issue [Walking Beside Each Other] is magnificent.
As I read through From the Editor (especially lyrics to the song, “How Can I Keep From Singing”) and saw [Professor Emeritus] Marc Hudson’s words scattered throughout the issue, something kept gnawing at me. I finally figured it out. Marc’s son, Ian Hudson, once wrote a poem with this final line:
I may stop speaking at any time
But I will never stop singing
Haunting and beautiful at the same time— like anything good, I suppose.
ERIK DAFFORN ’91
Carmel, IN
“Hits the Nail on the Head”
I just received WM Spring/Summer 2017 [Walking Beside Each Other]. While reading Tim Padgett's and Professor Patrick Burton's stories [“Breaking Out of the Cage” and “You Are Not Alone”], I literally sobbed.
I know the feelings they've experienced. I wasn't diagnosed with clinical depression until my late twenties. Previously unbeknownst to me, my grandfather and my mother both struggle with the disorder.
My first therapist was ineffectual to say the least—he used to fall asleep during my sessions! I’ve been on myriad different medications since, but I have only really found solace in my faith.
In 2004 I went through a nasty divorce, mostly because I couldn’t get a handle on my depression. Finally, in 2010, I, too had reached a breaking point. I was attending church regularly but still acting like a kid—partying every night, including marijuana and alcohol, which added to the depression. I watched my friends at church and envied them because they seemed to have such a joyous relationship with Jesus.
“Why couldn't I have that?” I asked.
What I professed to believe and the way I was living just didn't match and that broke my heart. Professor Stephen Webb’s quote hits the nail on the head as far as I was feeling: “Perhaps this can serve as a theological definition of depression: When your need for God is as great as your feeling of God's absence...the more you cry out for help, the more distant God can appear to be.” I figured what's the point in living if I can't be happy and God isn't listening to me?
A friend finally reached out to me when I was staring down the barrel of a .454 Casull, ready to pull the trigger. We chatted over the computer throughout the night until I felt that I was out of the woods. However, the next day, all the horrible guilt came crashing back in. I left work wholly intent on going home and finishing the job.
As I was on my way my mother called to see how I was doing. Mothers have a way of knowing when things aren't right with their kids! She, of course, admonished me to get in therapy, I objected by telling her I lived in
Fairbanks, AK, and there was no way I'd find a good therapist there. She told me to call one of my pastors at church. Lo and behold, I got another call...it was my pastor. Suddenly realizing that perhaps God wanted me to live, I took the call. My pastor, Jeff, was just calling to see if I could usher for the upcoming Sunday service. I asked to meet with him and went there straightaway.
After listening to me pour my heart out, he invited one of the associate pastors to come and pray with him for me. Never in my life have I felt what I felt that moment. As they prayed, I physically felt the burden lift. After many, many tears I left and as I walked to my car I totally committed my life to God.
I started journaling daily and found an incredible love for the Bible that I'd never known. I continue those habits today, seven years later. I’ve read more books on theology than I can count and am currently considering going back to school, at the ripe old age of 44, to study theology. Perhaps God’s plan is to use me to help others that are in the same situation I was back then. Oh, and I also found a therapist in Fairbanks that turned out to be the best therapist I’ve had to date!
I liken my depression to a hole. Suddenly you find yourself in this pit looking up and wondering, “How did I get here?” And then you realize all the work that needs to be done just to get out, at which point you feel like giving up. It is an insidious disorder. It sneaks up on you without you realizing it is even there.
For those of you just discovering that you have clinical depression I offer two pieces of advice. One: Do not let your guard down. Be vigilant. Two: If you need help, seek it.
If you need someone to talk to feel free to look me up—I am more than willing to share my war stories with depression and commiserate with you in yours. It is only by reaching out to others, especially those who have experienced it, that we can manage this disorder.
STEPHEN PURCELL ’95
Henderson, CO