Our Red Cross Volunteer Story: Clown Judy and Clown Gary

Our Red Cross Volunteer Story: Clown Judy and Clown Gary

Written by: Rose Ellen O’Connor, volunteer

Judy Gleklen Kopff stood outside the Fisher House at Walter Reed Army Medical Center on Christmas Eve 2004 and cried. She and her husband, Gary, were scheduled to entertain wounded warriors and their children in the Fisher House dining room. She’d been volunteering as a clown since 1996, but this was her first experience entertaining the wounded, and she was scared. She didn’t know how she’d deal with double and triple amputees.

She rang the doorbell, and as soon as she and Gary entered, a three-year-old boy jumped off his father’s lap and ran to her, crying, “Daddy! Daddy! It’s a clown!” He latched onto her leg and wouldn’t let go.

“I dried my tears as unobtrusively as possible and started making balloon animals for children who were creating an ever-expanding line leading to my husband and me,” Judy recalls. “At that moment, their parents were not patients missing arms or legs or eyes. They were parents enjoying the smiles and squeals of laughter of their children on Christmas Eve. We call ourselves Giggle Therapists.”

“Clown Judy,” now 71, and “Clown Gary,” now 72, learned in December 2004 about the Red Cross program at Walter Reed, underwent training and have been Red Cross volunteers ever since. They entertained at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, DC until it closed in 2011 and then switched to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, MD.

Judy spent her Federal government career as a civilian working at the Pentagon in the Office of the Secretary of Defense.  After taking an early retirement at the age of 49 in 1996, she went back to work for the Secretary in 2003 to work on issues related to Iraq and Afghanistan.  Her final position as a chief of staff in an office dealing with battlefield contractors ended in 2008. Her intense, high profile jobs didn’t dampen her love of lightheartedness. It was at an office Christmas party in 2004 that she made her connection to Fisher House. Standing next to Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld’s wife, Judy mentioned that she volunteered as a clown but didn’t have any place to entertain on Christmas. Mrs. Rumsfeld gave Judy the name of the person in charge at Walter Reed’s Fisher House.

These days Judy and Gary find themselves comfortable in any setting with wounded warriors and their families. For example, they’ve entertained at the Military Advanced Training Center (MATC), where the severely wounded go for intense physical and occupational therapy. At their first visit, they cautiously approached the head nurse and asked if they could enter MATC and interact with wounded warriors. The clowns received a thumbs up and entered accompanied by the head nurse’s service dog, who seemed to be saying, “These clowns are OK to be with you.”

The head nurse explained that this was the toughest physical therapy for young warriors now fitted with new arms and/or new legs and working hard for many hours at a time.  Clown Judy and Clown Gary were invited to distract the patients as they entered in full clown regalia, while carefully watched by MATC staff and the head service dog.

About four years ago, they were again at MATC and saw two patients – both double amputees -- lying on their stomachs on cots next to one another and working with physical therapists. Clown Gary thought one was asleep, so he started to show the other one a card trick. The patient they thought had been asleep turned and said, “Hey, I know that trick.” Gary then handed him the deck of magic cards and was relieved and pleased to have the young USMC corporal take over the magic demonstration for his band of brothers.

“We just watched,” Judy says. “We all were having fun, and the head nurse’s goal was met because our antics distracted the severely wounded patients for a few minutes from yet another long day learning how to walk on new prosthetic legs or how to prepare to hold their young children with new prosthetic arms.”

Gary walks the Walter Reed corridors “locked and loaded” with his multicolored squirt gun, which cannot fool the wounded warriors who know all too well the appearance of real guns.  He invites mayhem as he offers the use of his squirt gun to some patients.  As a highly decorated USMC General was walking amidst injured Marines who were perhaps one-third his age, Clown Gary mischievously whispered, “Anyone want to squirt the General?” One young double amputee seized the opportunity. 

“As the squirt gun did its worst, both men, as well as nearby staff and other patients, all broke into loud laughter,” Judy recalls.

Gary says, “When I get such laughter, it makes me feel that my mission is being accomplished. We don’t get paid in coin. We get paid in laughs.”

Sometimes the laughter and smiles are mixed with tears. One summer Judy and Gary were at a barbeque for wounded warriors and their families. Gary was pumping up a balloon to shape into a dog for a young man in a wheelchair; he wanted the balloon dog for his young son. It was a hot day, and the balloon accidentally popped. The sound instantly took the young combat veteran back to his memory of being severely wounded by an IED in Afghanistan. The patient started to cry, as did Clown Gary. Impulsively, both men hugged each other.

“Don’t worry,” the patient said to Gary. “We need to keep going so I not only have a toy balloon for my son, but I can also move a step closer to learning how NOT to react to loud noises now that I’m stateside.”

Judy and Gary understand smiling through tears. In the mid-1980s, they tried to conceive five times through in vitro fertilization. Judy also underwent four major surgeries to open her fallopian tubes, and then they turned to a surrogate mother. She turned out to be a fraud.

“At that point, I decided no more. We’re not going to try any more to have a baby. My experience of not being able to have children was one of the most difficult, most painful experiences of my life,” Judy says.

Once the decision to stop trying to have children was made, Judy stepped up her volunteering, whereas Gary turned to serving on the Board of Outward Bound, where he first learned to mountain climb in his home state of Colorado.  His climbing took him to all seven continents as he climbed some of their highest mountains, including the Vinson Massif in the Antarctic in 1991 and Everest in 1992.

In 1996, Judy discovered clowning. She’s made balloon creations and performed silly magic tricks for orphans and polio patients in Vietnam, local pediatric cancer patients, DC firefighters and police, elementary school children, and teenaged Maasai warriors in Kenya. She’s also entertained nursing home residents, foster families, kids in homeless shelters, Johns Hopkins Medical School students, the Chairman and Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and at the Million Mom March. Gary has accompanied her since his first venture to Walter Reed on Christmas Eve 2004.

“The joy in my heart when I see smiles on the faces of the people I entertain confirms that all my efforts are worthwhile,” Judy wrote for her upcoming Cornell University 50^th reunion book.

It’s not always joyful. Sometimes patients just want to talk, and Judy and Gary listen. “Some of their stories are overwhelming, and I sit and listen and cry,” Judy says.

Every so often their clowning can have big consequences. In December, Judy volunteered as a clown at an Easter Seals dinner reception, and a woman came up to her and told her that she had met her husband almost three years ago because of Judy. Clown Judy had made a balloon flower for the woman’s husband-to-be at the 2015 DOD Warrior Games in Quantico, VA (competitions for wounded, ill, and injured service members and veterans). He had used the flower to introduce himself to the woman, and now they’re married and have a baby.

“That made me cry,” Judy said, “but they were happy tears.”

It takes Judy three hours to transform herself into a clown. First, it takes her 45 minutes to an hour to make a three-foot tall hat out of balloons. Then she paints a big heart on each cheek, outlining in black eyeliner and coloring in with red lipstick. She attaches purple, gold, pink and black false eyelashes for the upper lashes and draws 10 long, black eyelashes out of eyeliner underneath each eye. She puts on her costume of polka dot bloomers, a red petticoat, a blouse emblazoned with clown decals, a puffy skirt with USMC stripes on the sides and a satin vest embroidered with “CLOWN JUDY” on the back.  Finally, she places a red foam ball on her nose and puts on a red wig.

Judy grew up a twin, the fourth of five children to Leo and Honey Gleklen. She was born a triplet, but one sister died when she was just a few months old. The family lived in Providence, RI, and Judy describes them as “silly, happy and openly affectionate, where kisses and laughter were the highlights of our daily lives.” The five children were always encouraged to help less fortunate people and to make them smile, she says, planting the seed for her becoming a clown many years later. They were encouraged to do volunteer work, and she started at age 6, performing ballet recitals and singing with her twin sister at nursing homes. She was also a Red Cross Candy Striper in high school and did a variety of volunteer work as an undergraduate at Cornell University.  Judy’s mom was always active in non-profit organizations, and she and her siblings continue that tradition.

Gary retired several years ago from his work as a financial strategy consultant and expert witness in lawsuits helping unravel the mess made by some of the largest banks in the US and Europe.  He grew up in Denver with an older sister. His mom was a devoted Red Cross volunteer, called a Gray Lady. His parents, Joseph and Claire Kopff, stressed academics, and Gary went east to Yale College.  After graduation, he studied at Cornell’s Graduate School of Management, where he met Judy.  They married in Providence in 1969, after Judy finished graduate studies in art history in New York City.

Today, Judy and Gary find fulfillment in the volunteer work they do.

“It makes me feel good when I bring smiles to the faces of children and ‘children-at-heart,’ as I call the adults,” Judy says. “Most adults like to smile and like to feel good. And If I can make them and their families feel good for a few minutes so that they can forget their pain, then that’s a good thing.”

My Red Cross Disaster Volunteer Story: Bill Sien

Written by: Rose Ellen O’Connor, volunteer

It was a blustery February day and it had been a busy one for Bill Sien, 77. He was one of 25 volunteers, coordinating with the fire chief and his crew, to fan out to 185 homes in Manassas, VA, offering fire safety tips and smoke alarms free of charge to residences. At the end of the day, they had installed 156 alarms in 46 homes as part of the Red Cross’ house fire prevention program called Sound the Alarm.

One of those homes, in particular, stood out for Bill.

He had been inside for about a half-an-hour installing smoke alarms on both floors and two bedrooms. As he was preparing to leave, the women living in the home broke into a big smile and said, “I know you.” It clicked for Bill. It had been a far less pleasant experience the last time they’d met. A few months earlier, she and her family – a boyfriend and a small child – had lost their home, also in Manassas, in a fire.

Bill, a DAT (Disaster Action Team) lead responder had arrived on the scene to find chaos. The residents were immigrants from Nepal and had no other family to turn to for help. The anxiety and confusion were typical of a house fire scene.

“They’re very distraught,” Bill says. “They’re confused. They don’t know what to do. I mean, this is the worst day of their life and they’re so happy to have someone help them walk it through. We give them a list of things they need to do.”

“They need to get all of their essential items out of the house – items like a charger for their phone, wallet, drivers license, anything that they can’t live without, prescription drugs and things like that.”

The family was able to get out essentials but little else. Bill arranged for lodging for them and gave them blankets and a Red Cross pamphlet that goes through all the things that need to be done to recover from a fire, step by step. He also gave them “comfort bags” filled with toiletries, including a toothbrush and comb. The woman was so grateful that she gave him a big hug when he left.

Flash forward to the February day when she was in her new home with four new fire alarms.

“I told her this is so much better than that last experience and you could see the joy in her face. I said you know you’re doing something preventative here so you can avoid what you went through the last time.”

When Bill isn’t volunteering for the Red Cross, he’s running his own business. He coordinates wireless mikes on game days for the NFL, the Washington Nationals and the University of Maryland. He lives with his wife, Teresa, in Haymarket, VA, and likes to spend time with his two children and five grandchildren, including a set of twins, all who live in the area.

Join the National Capital Region at upcoming Sound the Alarm events! 

My Red Cross Blood Donor Story: George DeFilippi

Written by: Rose Ellen O’Connor, volunteer

When his older son, Geoffrey, was a toddler, a nurse at the doctor’s office commented on how long he bled after a finger prick. George DeFilippi and his wife Patricia didn’t think much of it. Then his second son James came along in 1978 and they were given a diagnosis. It was not good. Both sons had hemophilia, a bleeding disorder in which the blood does not clot normally and bleeding can be uncontrolled and spontaneous.

“We were scared,” George says.

George, a retired Air Force Colonel, was then stationed at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, just outside Dayton, OH. When word got out of his sons’ hemophilia, the community rallied around his family.

“A bunch of our friends, unbeknownst to us, had a blood drive for us. There were 90 people that donated blood. A variety of them were scared about getting stuck with a needle, but they donated nonetheless,” George recalls. “We were just shocked and immensely grateful. We couldn’t believe the outpouring. That people would do such a thing for us was just a marvelous feeling.”

That was George’s first experience with the Red Cross. He was so moved he wanted to give back and began donating blood. Since 1978, he has given blood or platelets a little over 240 times. He started out giving blood, which can be donated every 56 days. He wanted to do more so he switched to platelets, which can be given 24 times a year or about every two weeks. George, 70, has slowed down a bit and now gives between 15 and 20 times a year. The process takes about two and a half hours.

As it turned out, George says, his sons had mild cases of hemophilia and only needed transfusions when they had injuries, probably a couple of times a month. As youngsters, they played a variety of sports and rollerbladed. They were very good at rollerblading but occasionally would fall, scrape a knee and need to be infused. George and his wife learned to do the infusions at home so they could usually avoid the hospital, but not always. Geoffrey, for example, had a bad sprain in the knee and was hospitalized for a couple of days.

As a youngster, James was a daredevil. He would get gashes in his head that would have to be treated.

“We found him a couple of times stacking chairs on top of chairs to try to get to cookies that were on top of the refrigerator when he was three or four,” George says. “He always was kind of a risk taker, doing those kinds of things where he would stretch the limits of his balance.”

Both sons are now in their 40’s and are healthy and very athletic. Geoffrey mountain climbs and James competes in triathlons.

George lives with his wife Patricia in Falls Church, VA. Along with his sons, he has two daughters, Jocelyn and Gwendolyn. After he retired from the Air Force, he worked in government relations for Cobham, a defense contractor, and then as a Navy civil servant.

Learn more about donating blood at RedCrossBlood.org. 

A Flag from History

Written by: Joe J

I recently donated a flag displaying the Red Cross to the American Red Cross in the National Capital Region at their headquarters in Fairfax, VA. I’m a retired senior medical physician’s assistant now living in Virginia following retirement after having served 31 years with the Canadian Forces Medical Services. My American-born wife, Maya, and I came across the flag while preparing to downsize our home. This particular flag was a backup flag for a military medical facility in Daruvar, Croatia, during the breakup of Yugoslavia in the early 1990's. It was given to me by some of my soldiers on redeployment to Canada. The Red Cross symbol is used by the military of many nations to identify medical personnel and facilities protected under the rules of the Geneva Conventions. 

Canada was one of several countries participating in a United Nations Peace Keeping Force (UNPROFOR). Canada’s participation was known as Operation Harmony.

I went to Daruvar in 1992 to augment the staff, as the senior noncommissioned officer, of a Battalion Medical Station already deployed to Daruvar. Most of the troops at that time were in Sarajevo and the city was under constant sniper fire and frequent shelling and mortar fire. Part of my job was to establish a semi-permanent medical clinic in Daruvar in preparation for the medical resources redeploying from Sarajevo. Although quieter than Sarajevo, Daruvar was in the conflict zone where the occasional gunshot or explosion was heard. The medical station was established in part of an orphanage/school where many children were homeless and without family as a result of fighting in Croatia.  

Many of the troops, including the medical personnel, returning from Sarajevo had witnessed the gruesomeness of war as played out during the Siege of Sarajevo, particularly along one of the main roads that became known as “Sniper Alley” because of the indiscriminate sniping, from hills surrounding the city, at civilians going about their chores and trying to survive in their war-torn city.  

In one particular instance, the medical personnel and other soldiers participated in the rescue and initial treatment of up to 10 children, aged seven to 10, killed or severely injured as a result of a mortar round landing in their midst. The children frequently visited the building where the Canadian contingent was established. The troops on the lower level would often pass them food, usually candy, and the children would scurry off to a particular area to enjoy their treats. Unfortunately, and perhaps deliberately, a mortar round fell among them.   

Needless to say, some of the medical staff and other soldiers were psychologically traumatized by what they witnessed and experienced. It often manifested itself in bouts of depression, nightmares, not eating or difficulty carrying out daily tasks.  In one instance, I found a soldier sitting alone on a stone wall of a of a destroyed house. I watched him for a while, as the soldier smoked cigarette after cigarette. I went over to him, sat beside him for a while before asking him, “How are you doing?” The soldier immediately burst into tears and after much sobbing related what he saw and his participation in the rescue of the children. He was one of the soldiers who that day had given the children candy. Post-deployment psychological counseling was provided to all who had such experiences.

I was very appreciative of the professionalism and bravery of the medical personnel that staffed the Battalion Medical Station during my time in Daruvar, and I will always be grateful that I was a part of that team. To be given the flag was an honor and to have it accepted by the Red Cross means that perhaps once again it will be used to symbolize a place of aid and comfort and sanctuary.  

My IN THE BAG Red Cross Story: Alyce Phinney

Written by: Rose Ellen O’Connor, volunteer

On a spring morning two years ago, Alyce Phinney was waiting for the school bus at an Alexandria bus stop when she heard a neighbor’s house had caught fire. After loading her two boys on the bus, she drove to the neighbor’s house to see if she could help and ended up taking the family’s little girl to school. It seemed firetrucks were everywhere at the scene and the family looked distraught. They carried what they could gather from the house in garbage bags.

Alyce was proud, but not surprised, to see the Red Cross there. Every eight minutes the organization responds to a house fire. Red Crossers arranged lodging for the family, calmly told family members what they needed to do, and offered blankets and toiletry bags. Alyce was on her way that morning to a kick-off meeting for the upcoming fall IN THE BAG event, which auctions designer handbags to raise money for the Red Cross. She told committee members how moved she was to see the Red Cross instilling calm where there was palpable panic.

“Because at the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about,” Alyce says. “We want to be proud of our event, we want to auction great looking handbags, but the most important thing is to be reminded why we do this work.”

IN THE BAG was started eight years ago by Red Cross volunteer Brenda Blisk. The committee solicits new or gently used designer handbags, among them Gucci, Kate Spade and Michael Kors. Last November the event auctioned 147 handbags, ranging in price from $200 to $1,350. The auction raised $133,000 in less than three hours.

Alyce, 44, is uniquely qualified to solicit handbags for the event. She has worked for 10 years in the handbag department at Neiman Marcus and has a close relationship with many of the women who buy purses from her. A longtime client, Dr. Marta Wilson, brought her to the event as a guest five years ago, thinking Alyce would have a great network for soliciting bags. She was right. Almost half of the bags sold at last year’s auction – 70 of 147 – came from Alyce’s contacts.

“I’m like a constant cheerleader. I send an email out to my clients. I talk about this event all the time at work,” Alyce says. “You know it’s hard to go to a client and say, ‘Hey, do you have eleven hundred and fifty dollars to contribute to the Red Cross?’ But it’s easy to say, ‘Do you have something in your closet that you’re not enjoying anymore? Do you want to donate it to help save a life?”

Alyce says clients are thankful for the chance to contribute.

“I’m grateful to them for giving,” Alyce says, “but on the flipside, as they are giving me the handbag, they always thank me for being involved in this so they can make this kind of contribution.”

She says she was “blown away” by the professionalism and attention to detail when she first came to the event five years ago. She was introduced to Brenda Blisk and asked if she could help. “I said if you’ll have me, I’ll make the commitment right here and now that I will serve on the committee for next year.”

She now co-chairs a subcommittee of 30 women who oversee handbags for the auction. Each of the women contributes a bag for the event. They also get contributions from companies and sometimes they get help from unexpected places. Two years ago, a woman from New York City found the charity on the internet. They never met her but she contributed a black vintage Hermes bag that sold for $3,000.

Most contributions, however, come through networking. One of Alyce’s clients, Carol Chill, had recently lost her husband and was sorting through her belongings. She found five bags she wanted to donate, including a 15-year-old Gucci brown tote that still had the tickets on it. It went for $1,150. It was on sale for $600 when Carol bought it, but its age made it vintage and thus more valuable.

“It had been sitting in her closet all those years, nobody enjoying it,” Alyce says. “She was tickled.”

Alyce and fellow committee members are now preparing for this year’s auction on November 16. Bags have to be solicited and then cleaned, sorted and tagged for the event. She’s made it a family affair. Her son Tobey, 10, helped clean and tag the bags last year, and her seven-year-old son, Lucas, helped clean. And they’ll be back this year, she says. “It’s a great way to do volunteer work with your children.”

For more information on this year’s auction, visit www.inthebagrc.com.

Blood Services Volunteer of the Month: Virgie Sullivan

Virgie Sullivan volunteers at the Dr. Charles R. Drew Donor Center in Washington, DC as a Blood Donor Ambassador. In addition to donating blood herself, Virgie can be relied upon to volunteer almost every Friday and has done so since 2005! 

Born in Wilson, NC, Virgie moved to the DC area for work in 1974. She has one daughter, seven grandchildren and four great-grandchildren! 

Virgie initially volunteered at blood drives at her place of employment starting in the 1990's. When she retired after 30 years of government service, she started helping out at the donor center and has been a fixture there ever since

In addition to her work with the Red Cross, Virgie volunteers very often for her church, where she helps with the food bank, cooks for special events, mentors young women, assists seniors and sings in the choir. Her free time consists of exercise, looking out for neighborhood children and taking trips to visit family in NC. Virgie is busy all the time! 

Meeting our blood donors and talking with them is what Virgie enjoys most about volunteering at blood drives. She finds it commendable that some of the donors wait for quite awhile and still have a pleasant attitude about donating blood. She enjoys talking to and thanking donors, and has gotten to know many donors by name.

Please join us in congratulating Virgie Sullivan – Volunteer of the Month for April 2018!