The following story was published on June 29, 2010 in the Lansing State Journal. I found Craig via a tip from one of our part-time editorial assistants. When I reached out to him, however, I got no response. Apparently he had been trying to reach me through a wrong e-mail address. But finally, one day recently one of his caregivers called me, asking if I was still interested. Of course I was.

Story and photos by Ryan Loew
Lansing State Journal — Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Having just finished more than 40 minutes on a cardio machine at a Sparrow Hospital outpatient rehabilitation center, Craig Oster slouched in his wheelchair. He was tired but ready to move on to the next part of his workout.

Caregiver Mike Akin lifted Oster and sat him in a bench press machine nearby.

“Come on Craig, push …” Akin said. “Come on iron man!”

For the past 16 years, Lou Gehrig’s disease has attacked Oster’s strength, his balance, his speech and his breathing, but he can do this. He can bench press 90 pounds for a set of nine reps.

He also can defy the odds, living a decade longer than is expected of someone with his progressive, neurodegenerative disease – amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS.

And now, the 46-year-old Haslett man wants to tell the world about his journey. He recently submitted a video story about his battle with ALS to a competition to win his own TV show on the Oprah Winfrey Network.

“I want to help people understand the immense power of finding meaning and purpose,” Oster said. “When you do, you can endure anything, and you can do what is required to heal.”

Originally from Plymouth, Oster came to the Lansing area in 1988 to study psychology at Michigan State University, earning his master’s degree in 1991 and his Ph.D. in clinical psychology a few years later.

While studying at MSU, however, Oster began to lose strength and balance, and on Aug. 16, 1994, he was diagnosed with ALS.

Determined to finish, he earned his Ph.D. in clinical psychology in 1996. Oster opened a practice on Pennsylvania Avenue in Lansing, and even as his body continued to deteriorate, he saw patients for 11 years.

ALS affects the nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord that prompt motor function in the body. When the motor neurons die, the brain loses its ability to stimulate muscle movement, according to The ALS Association, a California-based nonprofit group.

ALS has robbed Oster of his ability to walk on his own. Instead, he relies mostly on a wheelchair. His muscles of speech have been affected, making speaking slow and difficult to understand. Breathing can be choppy as well.

He also sees an osteopathic manipulation specialist and an Amish healer, among other holistic healers.

Oster said his faith in God and the “wisdom from world religions” also have played a big role in his coping.

His journey hasn’t been without its lows, however.

In late October 2008, his breathing became severely labored, and he started hospice care at his apartment.

“I was still focused on my vision of healing, but I began to have more doubts than ever,” Oster said. “I went deeper and deeper into my soul, and I prayed deeply to find the strength to heal.”

He found it.

In late May 2009, his breathing improved, and hospice caregivers packed up and left.

Oster said it’s been his ability to find “meaning and purpose” in life that’s allowed him to battle ALS this long.

He’s hoping that by the end of the year he’ll be able to do some psychological consultations via webcam.

“What I think is so important about Craig is his disease does not define him,” Scott said. “He transcended his disease. You see Craig for who he is, not a person with ALS, which is profound.”

What follows is a piece I wrote as a cover story for the Lansing State Journal’s weekly entertainment tab, NOISE, and a video I co-produced about the experience. As you can tell by my face in the photo, it’s not one I’ll likely repeat.

As I stepped over the edge of a balcony 21 stories above Lansing, I hesitated to release my grip of the railing.

Honestly, leaving the edge and beginning what I’m told constituted an “extreme rappel” down Boji Tower was the least terrifying part.

The reality check really kicked in after, say, a mere five feet down the rope.

At that point, I was on my own and hanging – albeit in the safest way possible – off Lansing’s tallest building.

And to think I volunteered for this assignment. Last Friday I had the opportunity to rappel down Boji Tower as part of a first-of-its-kind event at the building.

If you were in downtown Lansing Saturday, you may have noticed dozens of people doing the same.

Nearly 100 participants in the “Over the Edge” event raised a minimum of $500 each for a chance to rappel down Boji Tower. It was part of the Be a Tourist in Your Own Town festivities, and the $60,000 in funds raised will go to the Team Lansing Foundation, said Tracy Padot, a spokeswoman for the event.

I was one of a handful of media-types who rappelled a day earlier as a preview of the event.

So if you’re considering participating in the future (organizers say it’s “very possible” this could be held again in Lansing), here’s what you can expect.

It’s fun, but intense.

Having never rappelled before, I was unaware of how physically draining it can be.

To move down the building, you grip an industrial descender in one hand, squeezing to move. Let go, and there you sit in your industrial harness. Either way, it can be a bit of an ab workout, and my energy level seemed to drop with every floor I descended.

And let’s not forget the fear factor.

Looking down was not an option, and looking up was dizzying. So I stuck to staring at the wall in front me, occasionally glancing over my shoulders to get an idea how far up I still was.

I was still very, very far up.

Sure, all of those. And I’m glad I did it, I said.

But the real question – why did I do it? – came via e-mail from a friendly source at a local utility.

“Ryan, you are either very brave or completely bonkers,” the message read. “I pray it’s the former.”

I, however, am sure it’s the latter.

It’s about time I edited this down. Here’s a look at my favorite shots from the past couple years.

Flat track roller derby is a rough and tumble sport where women race on speed skates, hip checking and body blocking players into the bleachers along the way. They wear plenty of protective gear – helmets, wrist guards, knee and elbow pads – and not much else. (Fishnet stockings are common.) Check out the gear these girls wear on the track.

This is another installment in LSJ.com’s Geared Up series, where we profile people by the gear they wear and use. Here is another Geared Up project about preps football. For this roller derby piece, I produced the photo and video content, while my colleague Cody Hinze produced the Flash interactive.

A video story profiling Rob Stephenson, Michigan’s 2009 Teacher of the Year and a candidate for national teacher of the year.

It’s been a busy couple weeks. I recently produced this in-depth package about how low literacy impacts the Greater Lansing area and the state of Michigan. This project came about after our publisher wrote a column voicing support for a local literacy coalition. Wanting news coverage on the issue, he turned to my editor, who turned to me, and we went to work.

The end result was a Sunday print story examining the number of low-literate adults in the U.S., Michigan and Lansing. I also shot and produced a handful of video stories profiling the Capital Area Literacy Coalition, a Lansing nonprofit that offers free education services for area adults and children. On top of all that, I shot the photos for the print edition.

The entire news package on LSJ.com can be found here, and for good measure I posted all the video stories below.

Here’s the print story:

Literacy: A hidden problem

Low literacy affects 14 percent of Americans

By Ryan Loew
Lansing State Journal — Sunday, March 21, 2010

LANSING – When Richard Handziak was hurt on the job in 1998, he was forced to share his secret.

Doctors couldn’t understand why he was resistant to filing for worker’s compensation. But after meeting with a counselor, Handziak revealed he was reading at a third-grade level.

“I didn’t want these people to know I couldn’t fill the paperwork out,” said Handziak, now a 50-year-old semi-truck driver.

Handziak was able to get help through Lansing’s Capital Area Literacy Coalition, a nonprofit organization that offers a number of free educational services for adults and children. Within a year, he was reading at high school level.

Handziak’s story is more common than most people would imagine, experts say. Low literacy is a hidden problem, and for a state reeling from issues such as the nation’s highest unemployment rate, it can be a big problem as well.

The most recent comprehensive national assessment of adult literacy was conducted in 2003. That survey, the National Assessment of Adult Literacy, showed that 14 percent of Americans over age 16 – roughly 31 million people – were categorized as having below basic prose literacy skills.

That means that in most cases, they possessed no more than a simple ability to read and locate a piece of information in common text such as a short story in a newspaper.

The National Center for Education Statistics, which conducted the national assessment, also estimates that close to 20,000 people older than age 16 – roughly 6 percent of the tri-county area adult population – didn’t have basic prose literacy skills in 2003. An estimated 8 percent of adults that year lacked those skills statewide.

While Michigan may fare better than the national average, it’s still an issue to remain vigilant about, said Tracy Carman, spokeswoman for the Syracuse, N.Y.-based nonprofit group ProLiteracy.

“Low literacy levels can be tied to almost every social issue,” she said.

“Improving adult literacy skills in a state will help adults increase their competitiveness in the job market, which can ultimately reduce state-supported health care costs and even incarceration and recidivism rates.”

Low literacy is closely linked to the number of people without high school diplomas, said Dianne Duthie, Division Director for Lifelong Learning, a division of the state’s Bureau of Workforce Transformation. That naturally creates a problem for the state’s economy.

Roughly 24,000 people ages 25 and older in the combined Lansing-East Lansing area have not graduated high school or gotten their GED, according to US Census Bureau data.

Without a diploma or GED, Duthie said, it’s nearly impossible to get a job, even those considered the most entry-level, Duthie said. And in a state with 14.3 percent unemployment in January, low literacy only punctuates the problem.

“The lower the literacy rate, the higher the unemployment,” she said.

Demand for literacy remediation services statewide is high and waiting lists are common at organizations like the Capital Area Literacy Coalition, said Lois Bader, CALC’s executive director.

She said the coalition served roughly 850 adults in one or more of its programs in 2009. That’s up from approximately 800 adults served in 2008 and roughly 700 in 2008.

Bader expects the demand to continue rising, especially for GED tutoring, one of CALC’s largest programs. There are currently about 100 people on a waiting list for GED help.

But since the group operates on a handful of mostly part-time employees and a small army of volunteers, the demand can also be challenging, Bader said.

To meet the demand, she said, the coalition needs more volunteers to get trained as tutors. The group also needs donations to expand programming and paid staff ranks.

“The need is absolutely tremendous,” Bader said. “It’s heartbreaking to see so many people come in who finally share their stories about how they’ve been hiding the difficulties that they have, hiding from their employers, sometimes hiding from their spouse or from their children, and yet these are people who are intelligent.”

Literacy is more than just reading, Bader said. It’s about developing culture, securing employment and protecting health. It’s about achieving self sufficiency.

And for Handziak, there’s more to learn.

He said becoming more computer literate is his next step.

“I gotta learn how to answer my e-mail and pay my bills online and stuff like that,” Handziak said. “I gotta learn how to e-mail my kids.”

MSU has eight Final Fours in its history, six in the past 12 years, which is the best in the nation and previously matched only by North Carolina, UCLA and Duke. Go inside the “house that Izzo built.”

This is my attempt to have some fun with something we journalists experience time and time again: the media tour. This one in particular is of the General Motors assembly plant in Delta Township, Mich. The subject? The Chevy Traverse, which is now being assembled at the plant. Instead of hiding the fact that this was an event primarily created for the media (what some might call a “dog and pony show”), my aim here was to produce a light, fun take on what was essentially a roving news conference.

Former MSU All-American Ryan Miller will be in the Olympic spotlight in Vancouver as the No. 1 goalie for Team USA. Miller, who grew up in East Lansing and still spends his offseasons here, is one of 10 in his family to play at MSU and one of five to make it to the National Hockey League. It’s no surprise he’s now an Olympian.

On Jan. 15, Ernest Williams assaulted his fiancee. He was arrested and pleaded guilty to misdemeanor domestic violence. He now attends an intervention program with other offenders to talk about domestic abuse, identify how they use power and control and learn how to have positive relationships. I met Ernest while I was reporting on the LSJ’s Burning Bed project, and he agreed to let me to do a more comprehensive story on him, warts and all. ]]> http://www.ryanloewisajournalist.com/index/?feed=rss2&p=98 0