2007 Honorees
Many are familiar with the opening stanza of Reinhold Niebuhr’s “Serenity Prayer”:
God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.
Individuals and groups have adopted this verse to inspire courage, perseverance, and peace in desperate moments. From birth, Beverly Davis-Migliaccio has faced enduring physical challenges that impact her very existence. Still, Beverly cannot be defined by her disabilities; rather, she must be recognized for her calm, compassionate, and conscientious response to family, friends, work, and leisure. Unsurprisingly, Niebuhr’s words accompany and encourage Beverly even in her darkest hours.
Beverly was born with lymphangioma, a disease of the lymphatic system which impacts infants or the elderly, creating multiple non-cancerous tumors. Usually, the disease affects one extremity – an arm or leg – so amputation may be used to halt further occurrence. Beverly’s parents became aware of the extent of their daughter’s illness and prognosis within days of her birth: probably she would die within two years. Young and ill equipped to face such a depressing future, her parents placed Beverly in foster care when she was just three months old; she lived with foster families until her adoption at 17. Beverly credits two vigilant foster families for instilling and deepening the work ethic and values she upholds to this day.
School Days
When Beverly was four, her family enrolled her in a private preschool. Already, the disease had spread, creating sores and tumors on her right side, and, following standard procedure for lymphangioma, surgeons amputated Beverly’s right arm. Parents of classmates had seen the tumors, however, and fearing the disease contagious, demanded Beverly’s dismissal. Despite a physician’s verification about the nature of the illness, Beverly was prevented from continuing attendance at this preschool.
Beverly entered grade school and describes these days as “typical” even though it soon became apparent that she suffers from a rare and incurable strain of lymphangioma in which tumors spread throughout a victim’s entire body. By age 10, tumors had formed on Beverly’s spine, necessitating surgery and her subsequent confinement to a wheelchair. Because she continued to attend her home school in South Carolina, and because of youngsters’ willingness to adapt, Beverly recalls her wheeled transportation as “no different than using her legs.” In sixth grade, all students were required to play a musical instrument. While most of her peers chose to study one of the varied district-supplied horns, Beverly’s instrument of choice was piano. Though unable to offer lessons at school, the district was obliged to provide alternative instruction. As a result, Beverly took three years of lessons from a woman who had suffered paralysis in a car accident. Since she had successfully adapted her technique to continue performing, this instructor was ideally suited to enable Beverly to achieve her musical dream.
In high school, Beverly continued to prove her ability to “accept the things [she] could not change” and to “change the things [she] could.” Enrolled in a required high school typing class, she researched hand placement and keystroke techniques for amputees. Basically self-taught, Beverly uses a computer as an integral component of her profession today.
Learning and maturing, Beverly faced continuing and emerging problems with lymphangioma as a high school student. When she was 16, she traveled to Charleston for painful and essentially cosmetic surgery on her toe. Under the circumstances, she became an unwilling patient, but did agree to a body scan, which she viewed as more relevant to her well-being. With this scan, specialists could see that tumors had spread to her spine; as a result, the weight of her head created undue pressure on her back. To correct this problem, Beverly was fitted with a head and back brace which she wears each day.
Despite living in foster homes, Beverly remained in touch with her birth family into her teen years. Finally, at 13, her biological parents relinquished custody, opening the possibility for Beverly’s adoption. Four years later, the Migliaccios, a couple who welcomed and adopted disabled children into their family as siblings to their seven biological children, visited South Carolina. Traveling from the Erie area, they were hoping to adopt a young boy in Beverly’s hometown. After hearing about Beverly and meeting her, Beverly also joined the Migliaccio family: today she is one of 35 siblings, nurtured with the love and devotion of the Migliaccios.
As Beverly grew, she was influenced by the inherited and observed values of her biological, foster, and adoptive parents. Beverly possesses strong verbal skills. A love of reading, in fact, motivated her high school interest in journalism and her college major, in communications. Beverly views herself as fortunate since her foster and adoptive parents required her to complete chores, encouraged her to read when “bored,” and expected her to develop a plan for college. Applying to and attending college, however, underscored the limits disabilities imposed at that time.
As she neared high school graduation, Beverly was accepted at local colleges including Gannon, Mercyhurst, Villa Maria, and Edinboro. While she had selected Mercyurst, she was informed by OVR that Edinboro, with its wheelchair accessibility was more suitable. Thus, Beverly enrolled at Edinboro where she did, indeed, find simple access to buildings and classrooms. Still, Beverly longed for the required internships and challenges of the Mercyhurst curriculum and campus. Determined to fulfill her dream, Beverly succeeded in obtaining funding to start attending Mercyhurst as a sophomore.
Since her family lived in Corry, Beverly began Mercyhurst by attending classes at the Corry branch. There, since no entrance ramp had yet been constructed, kind classmates and professors lifted her wheelchair over the building’s entry steps. Later, when most of her classes required attendance at the main campus, Beverly commuted from Corry. To reach classrooms independently at the Erie campus, she needed to search out and follow circuitous routes. When she needed to use an elevator, she had to wait until another passenger held the door open for her entry. Even though Mercyhurst has since updated accessibility for students with disabilities, Beverly feels that facing the challenges she met strengthened and prepared her for the real world where the needs of the disabled aren’t always addressed, even today.
For 13 years, Beverly has been employed as a case manager for Community Resources for Independence. In this capacity, she assists people in Erie county to meet life needs: housing, health, transportation, education, and employment. As an advocate, Beverly finds profound satisfaction in working one on one, empowering citizens to discover and embrace life’s opportunities. She’s assisted in developing Lending an Ear, a program which subsidizes hearing aid purchases, making these devices more readily available for consumers. On the record, Beverly counts over 160 clients on her caseload. Additionally, she plans fundraisers and coordinates the annual CRI Consumer Picnic: obtaining donations for food and auction, sending invitations, and organizing the dinner and games. Beverly also attends LIFT meetings and serves on the board of United We Stand, a local theater troupe.
While completely engaged in bettering the lives of local citizens, Beverly still encounters challenging times as lymphangioma continues its course. In January, fraught with pain, Beverly was rushed by ambulance to Pittsburgh where she spent a month undergoing antibiotic therapy. Upon discharge, no clear diagnosis had been reached, so Beverly resumed work and obligations, but clearly, she was not herself.
On May 25th, with a bad cold, Beverly uncharacteristically left work early. At the emergency room, her temperature registered 105º; she was initially diagnosed with pneumonia. After looking further into her history, however, physicians discovered that Beverly had been suffering from a hidden infection since January, a condition masked by the antibiotic therapy she’d undergone. After extensive testing, doctors identified Beverly’s hip as the infection site; originally they believed that extensive surgery would be required to remove, wash, and replace her hip. Instead, physicians and Beverly opted for six to twelve weeks of IV antibiotic treatment, which Beverly completed independently through an IV line; following this course of therapy, she will use oral antibiotics to stave off further complications.
As she grew up, Beverly was raised Methodist but also attended a neighborhood Catholic church. A former member of St.Thomas parish in Corry, she now attends Blessed Sacrament in Erie. Thankful for God’s presence in her life, Beverly attends mass weekly, confirming and celebrating her beliefs. Without her faith, Beverly says, she would be “nowhere.”
Personally, Beverly epitomizes the “Serenity Prayer,” for she is serene, despite ongoing physical challenge and pain. Professionally, Beverly promotes equality, insisting that citizens with disabilities must be provided appropriate educational, career, living, and leisure opportunities. Living what she advocates, Beverly witnesses courage and commitment. With faith, Beverly Davis-Migliaccio faces each day “accepting the things [she] cannot change and changing the things she can.”
Joshua Dolecki
Addiction. What motivates individuals to forsake all else, to chase that ghost, to realize that perfect high? Joshua can identify many reasons for his history of addiction, but now he celebrates the journey of faith that brought his redemption and renewed his life.
Joshua and his younger brothers, Jacob and Patrick, grew up in an affluent Oil City neighborhood. Even as a boy, Josh’s expectations and values differed from those of his parents. In sixth grade, Josh began smoking. At 12, he smoked “roaches” with a friend before school – marijuana his buddy had stolen from parents Josh admired more than his own. Today, unfortunately, home to these “cool” role models includes rehab facilities and jail.
Early, Josh began to regard money as a cure-all for his problems; however, by middle school, this remedy intensified the turmoil in his life, providing a ready access to drugs. A classmate called to the nurse to receive Ritalin would save the tablet under his tongue, knowing that Josh coveted this medication…and would pay generously. At 14, Josh experimented with LSD and crystal meth. The latter, which can slow one’s physical growth, may have impaired Josh physically – since at 15 he was shorter than most of his peers and weighed only 105 pounds – and emotionally, contributing to his feelings of inferiority. Josh, also diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, admits manipulating others in an attempt to boost his self-esteem. Still, he played golf and hung out with successful students and athletes, but characterized himself an “outsider” who lacked the “good stuff” and didn’t fit in, especially in new situations. Josh, who seldom felt happy unless high or intoxicated, next turned to opiates: he was drug dependent by 15.
At home, conflicts with his parents increased to a point of chaos when Josh was placed in a juvenile facility two years later, charged with domestic abuse after throwing a bath scale at his mother. Throughout this period, Josh felt separated from a vengeful God; furthermore, he convinced himself that his Lord, his parents, and many others all judged him mercilessly.
During his senior year, Josh stopped using drugs for a short time. His grades, which had surprisingly remained satisfactory, improved. Gradually, as he resorted to being a “weekend warrior,” his grades dropped, reflecting increased drug use. Josh also received medication for his panic disorder, another contributor to his growing abuse problem. Even though guidance counselors and a few teachers recognized Josh’s problems and offered help, his dependency worsened.
Still, in January 2001, Josh was able to enroll as a freshman at Slippery Rock University; however, he attended college for only three months before selling his books to purchase drugs. Josh also began hanging out with cancer patients because they always had access to pain medication; he relied on drugs to escape the physical sickness and depression of his dependency. Day by day and month by month, his addiction and coping methods heightened his need for more powerful drugs.
Place a glass before Stephanie Tate to gauge her optimism. Would she describe the vessel half full or half empty? Born prematurely and immediately diagnosed with cerebral palsy, Stephanie has never known life without disability. She cannot stand without assistance, requires attendant care to bathe and dress, and cannot drive; still, Stephanie is quick to add that she last underwent surgery at 13 and doesn’t anticipate any further complications from her disability. From childhood, Stephanie has proven herself a model of independence and hope.
Reflecting on the Past
A family girl, Stephanie enjoys a close relationship with her parents and sisters Stacey and Samantha. She cherishes nephew Anthony, the family’s first grandchild. Samantha’s year old son, like other children, sees and loves Stephanie, his aunt – not his “aunt in the wheelchair.” She and her family are anxiously counting the days until the birth of Anthony’s sibling in November.
Because of her love of children, Stephanie has served as a volunteer for Shriner’s Hospital and the Make-a-Wish Foundation. With both organizations, she bonds with children battling lifelong disabilities and life-threatening diseases. Stephanie treasures an exclamation from a young patient at Shriner’s: “I love to see you! You’re the only one who comes in a wheelchair. You make me so happy!” Stephanie’s presence at these facilities has also inspired patients’ parents, for in her, possibility becomes reality; rather than concentrating on problems they can’t fix, these parents begin to encourage their sons and daughters to reach for their dreams and to believe in themselves…like Stephanie.
Remembering her own childhood in St. Mary’s, Stephanie recalls being “normal” until middle school when, for a time, her disability triggered some nasty taunts. Once in high school, though, Stephanie made many friendships through interests in creative writing and poetry, and her commitment to SADD. After high school, Stephanie majored in communications at Edinboro University, located more than two hours from her hometown. Though her only family contact nearby was Stacey, a student at Mercyhurst College, Stephanie knew that with determination and the accessible campus, she would succeed. Characteristically, Stephanie took on a few challenges she could have avoided. For instance, she hit the snowy slopes when Edinboro offered skiing as part of an adaptive sports program. While Stephanie is glad for the experience, she did not like the cold nor the nerve-wracking balancing needed to maneuver a solitary ski beneath her modified sled. In the classroom, though, Stephanie flourished; after attaining her B.S. in 2002, she entered the workforce briefly and then returned to Edinboro, completing her M.A. in 2005.
Real World; Real Problems
That July, Stephanie began her professional career as a service coordinator and skills trainer at Erie’s Three Rivers Center for Independent Living. To assure fair and equitable services and to enhance life experiences, she taught basic skills to individuals who lived in nursing homes by promoting clients’ success in balancing a checkbook, meeting with social workers, and arranging for LIFT transportation. Because of her own education and experience, Stephanie provided an authentic example and served as a role model for those she mentored.
While working in Erie, Stephanie also advocated for people with disabilities by giving lectures at Slippery Rock University, educating students majoring in social work about real life issues affecting the disabled. While she expects appropriate accommodations for her clients and other citizens with disabilities, Stephanie also demands equal treatment. In fact, she wrote a letter to the Erie Times News, sharing experiences at the courthouse when, upon entering, others were searched while she was just passed through. Stephanie found no comfort in such actions, and, in her letter, pointed out how such neglect could enable someone with a hidden weapon to gain entry, jeopardizing public safety.
Last summer, Stephanie interviewed for a position with Bendur Consulting Services in Pittsburgh, and one day later, she was hired! Associated with UPMC Health Plan, Stephanie helps individuals locate physicians and understand their insurance benefit plans and bills. Moving from Erie to Pittsburgh, Stephanie’s personal experiences broadened her familiarity with problems that people with disabilities might encounter. For instance, Stephanie, whose income level exceeds federal guidelines for wheelchair accessible housing, found it difficult to locate an apartment. While many landlords described rentals “wheelchair accessible,” such claims related only to entrances. Beyond accessible entries, the apartments weren’t equipped with accommodations needed by individuals with mobility impairment. After living in a hotel and searching for two weeks, Stephanie was excited to locate a workable apartment; however, she had to wait, for to become truly wheelchair accessible, her new home needed further renovations. Once settled in, Stephanie also needed to make transportation arrangements for herself. These experiences illustrate the ongoing struggles faced by individuals with disabilities, in spite of ADA. Once again, however, the experience enhanced Stephanie’s ability to understand and to remedy her own problems.
Royal Adventures
In her leisure, Stephanie proves herself adventurous. Nominated for Erie Bachelorette, a benefit for the American Lung Association, Stephanie participated for fun…and won the title! Enjoying music, dancing, and the outdoors, a Caribbean cruise last spring was a perfect getaway. To enjoy her voyage, Stephanie planned ahead, verifying times and adjusting her itinerary as needed. Unable to disembark the ship at a few islands since her wheelchair could not be lifted into smaller boats, Stephanie enjoyed “her” yacht and enjoyed a facial in “her” spa. Also, this year, Stephanie added adaptive sailing to her sports debuts; she looks ahead to water-skiing and rock-climbing as future challenges.
Stephanie has experienced the blues, but when they cloud her day, she uses a reality check to detect the sunshine. Perhaps, recollected conversations with her mom prompt her determination. As a teen and frustrated with her limitations, Stephanie recalls declaring “I can’t do it anymore” as well as her mother’s response: “Yes you can…because you have to.” Stephanie, in fact, views herself blessed in that cerebral palsy impairs only her physical abilities. She thinks that all things in life can be explained; faith-filled, she accepts her disability as a sign from God, believing that she was “made this way” for a purpose. Without question, Stephanie Tate displays courage and faith, demonstrating the wisdom and joy of viewing a glass – and life itself – at least half-full!
In 1955 Liz Trigilio graduated from St. Vincent’s School of Nursing, and having experienced various assignments during senior rotation, was happy to begin working in the emergency room. Eventually, because of her efficiency, skill, and discipline, Liz became the ER’s head nurse. Her career, she reflects, was both exciting and rewarding.
Early Years…Happiness and Grief
Liz married in 1958 and became pregnant in 1960. At eight months, she recognized troubling signs: no movement from her baby, spotting, and finally, 48 hours of labor. Mary Jo was born with hyaline membrane disease, so her undeveloped lungs limited oxygen intake. Unfortunately, at that time, no viable treatment was available, and Mary Jo died within three days.
During the next six years, Liz and husband John welcomed two sons – John and Joseph. John Jr. resolved to become a priest by the time he made his first communion; in middle school, he gathered family around the coffee table – arranged as altar – to offer Mass…including sermon. John was so sure of his vocation, in fact, that he entered St. Mark’s Seminary in 9th grade. Joseph was born 2 years later. Though close in age, he was entirely different from John. Joe loved the outdoors and preferred fishing and hunting to books.
Five years later, the Trigilio family was completed with the births of Michael in 1966, and Mark, a year later. Michael, at nine months, wasn’t meeting his physical milestones; further, Liz noticed that his calf muscles appeared enlarged. Eventually, his development lagged behind Mark’s. After some frightening visits to the ER, and blood work, a neurologist diagnosed Michael with Duchenne’s muscular dystrophy, a progressive and terminal illness. Still, Michael attended Blessed Sacrament, and Academy High School – confined then to a wheelchair – and Edinboro University.
Liz, continuing to nurse part-time, prepared tantalizing meals of homemade pasta for family and friends, welcomed guests galore, tended to Michael, and demonstrated her religious conviction. Husband John, a Sunday Catholic at the time of their marriage, grew to know and love the faith Liz epitomized. Liz also modeled her life on lessons from her sister Rita’s mother-in-law – “Look for the good in people” – and from the sisters at St. Vincent’s, who inspired her to “do good.” John and Liz never ended a day without kneeling together in prayer. Then and now, Liz regards herself unworthy of the blessings she’s received, even though her life has been filled with tragedy.
Michael’s muscular dystrophy progressed to the point that after three years of college at Edinboro University, he became bed-ridden, requiring complete care; he could move only with assistance. For five years, Liz and John spent alternate nights with Michael, staying up, attending to his needs, and turning him every two hours to prevent bedsores. During this period, Liz began hand quilting to keep her awake, attentive to Michael’s call, and to offer a time for prayer and reflection. While she created 14 intricate and beautiful coverlets, which she could easily have sold, Liz gave away all but one of her heirloom pieces.
As Michael’s disease worsened, he lost nearly 60 pounds, but never complained. Faith-filled like Liz, Michael prayed the rosary and trusted that “God listens.” In 1992, following a lung infection, Michael contracted pneumonia and died within hours. He was 26; physicians attribute Michael’s longevity, despite MD, to the extraordinary care he had received from his family.
Liz continued to work part-time, but John Sr. retired. Liz served family and community, sending dinners to priests and older neighbors, and regularly visiting the Carmelite monastery. Again, crisis loomed when John Sr. was diagnosed with leukemia in 1995, necessitating chemotherapy and eventually, multiple blood transfusions each week.
In 1997, successive crises truly tested Liz, but empowered by her beliefs, she faced and endured each trial with grace and serenity. At that time, Mark was diagnosed with leukemia, received chemotherapy, and was required to schedule regular check-ups. Months later, Joseph, then 33, was preparing to leave for a post July 4th party. Though not demonstrative, he kissed Liz good-bye, and, sensitive to the deaths of Mary Jo and Michael, and particularly impacted by seeing Mark hospitalized, he asked: “Is something going to happen to me?” Liz calmed Joe’s worries, but his premonition would be fulfilled when his car was struck broadside by a speeding vehicle just minutes after leaving home. Joe was thrown through the sunroof, crushed, and killed instantly. The 17-year-old driver, drunk and high, had been speeding through the city at 75 miles per hour, sideswiping parked vehicles and eluding capture.
When finally caught, the young man was arrested, jailed, and charged with vehicular homicide. At his trial, the Trigilios showed such compassion that their forgiving response was featured in the Erie Times News. The young driver spent a very short time in confinement – possibly because of the Trigilios’ expression of mercy – however, should he break his probation, he is to be imprisoned for a minimum of seven years and the Trigilio family will be notified immediately.
Disheartened by Joe’s death, John Sr. seemed to lose hope; he died within six months. He had undergone intensive treatment, receiving regular 12-hour sessions of IV therapy, and experiencing excruciating pain. When he told Liz he didn’t want to die in the hospital, she took him home where, once again, she served as nurse and loving caretaker. John died peacefully on the Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes, surrounded by Liz, Mark, and Father John.
Ordained in 1988, Father John has served a number of parishes in the Harrisburg area and is currently pastor of Our Lady of Good Counsel and St. Bernadette’s churches. Additionally, he has co-authored four books and regularly travels to Alabama to shoot Web of Faith, an award-winning program aired on EWTN.
Mark, meanwhile, has undergone therapy for leukemia twice but has been in remission since 2004; still, he must be re-evaluated semi-annually. Although his prognosis is good, with the family’s knowledge of this illness, a sense of concern is natural.
Clearly, Liz has known tragedy, yet she has known tranquility, born and nurtured through her profound faith. Today, she serves as medical officer, nurse, chauffeur, cook, and sacristan for Erie’s Carmelite monastery; travels with Fr. John; and enjoys counted cross-stitch. Younger than her six brothers and sisters, Liz has nursed her siblings through illnesses and mourned the deaths of three. Despite a host of personal heartaches, Liz has devoted herself to patients, family, and community, exemplifying and honoring the ideals of Christian service. Like Florence Nightingale in profession, and like Christ in spirit, Liz Trigilio faces each joy, challenge, setback, and defeat with tranquility, not only modeling, but also inspiring both faith and courage.
Upon entering Lori Zampogna’s office at Millcreek Education Center, a visitor knows immediately that this human resource officer is one busy lady. File cabinets and shelves filled with books, folders, and office supplies line the walls. Her desk, stacked with personnel files, evidences hours spent in mid-summer interviews with teacher candidates. Phone calls persist. Beyond the professional trappings, however, Lori’s office provides glimpses into life beyond this workplace.
A print of the Erie Achievement Center framed in signatures and good wishes recalls memories created and friendships enjoyed in a former position. Photos of family and longtime friends recognize and celebrate enduring relationships and cherished times. Tonka, her twelve-year-old lab, appears aptly vigilant, loyal in photo as in life. When Lori pulls out yet another snapshot – of the brilliant red Yamaha Vstar motorcycle she purchased in July – one might be surprised to discover a hobby she’s prized since high school. A visitor to this office, however, might miss a seemingly unimportant wallet-sized card amongst Lori’s valued photos, demanding calendars, and due dates. “A survivor is a victim with an attitude,” declares the card, acknowledging Lori’s past, personifying her present, and promising her future.
A native of Oil City, Lori attended and graduated from Mercyhurst College, majoring in Human Resource Management. Shortly after graduation, she began her professional career in Erie and also married. Lori remained very close with her family, often enjoying visits with her mom, Gloria, a visiting nurse; her dad, Tony, now retired; and brother Michael, a resident of South Carolina. Family and long-time friends often compare Lori to her mother, noting their mutual compassion and enduring smiles.
Lori first encountered tragedy in 1995 when her mother, en route to visit a patient, was struck by a semi on an icy road, and died. Losing Gloria in such a senseless and unexpected way had a profound effect on Lori, for Gloria was not only her mother, but also her role model and confidant. Sadly, this dreadful loss coincided with Lori’s birthday, creating an indelible and everlasting remembrance.
Time passed, and Lori continued to live and work in Erie. Four years later, she became aware of numbness in her left foot. At first, she blamed tight shoes, a strenuous workout, and even a pinched nerve. When, after adjusting shoes and routine, the problem persisted, Lori visited her physician. Medical exams revealed the presence of multiple sclerosis, requiring daily injections and modification of her schedule. At that time, Lori recalls that mixing vials of serum proved to be the most trying aspect of her regimen; still, she became accustomed to the injections, refusing to see herself as “sick.” Today, Lori regards injections of pre-mixed serums as much simpler; however, she continues to endure the effects of this disease, facing problems with balance and chronic numbness and tingling in her legs.
In 2005, six years later, still trying to cope with the loss of her mother and the ever-present pain of multiple sclerosis, Lori faced and survived yet another life change, divorce. Once again, friends, family, and Tonka’s calm presence sustained Lori’s survivor mentality and enabled her to move on. Then, just six months later, during an annual gynecological exam, her physician discovered endometriosis and ordered Lori to undergo a complete hysterectomy. During this major surgery at Hamot Medical Center, specialists discovered stage I cancer in Lori’s left ovary, necessitating six months of chemotherapy in Pittsburgh.
For each therapy session, Lori missed work Friday, but returned on Monday, weak, but proving herself a “survivor with an attitude.” On her office door, she posted a personal countdown for her six treatments, accepting, yet battling each session. Lori lost her hair 15 days after her first chemotherapy. She tried a wig, but wasn’t satisfied or comfortable with this one alternative. In fact, co-workers never knew when this busy lady would appear with long hair, short hair, or any number of coordinated bandanas or hats. On a whim, Lori even donned a bandana stenciled in dollar signs for a budget meeting! She teased her brother – who at times had more hair than she. Michael’s reply was that “hair is overrated.” Definitely, Lori expressed an attitude!
During each trip to Pittsburgh, Lori and her dad shared a ritual, creating a sense of normalcy and security. Regularly, at a gas stop in Edinboro, they fueled the car first, and then themselves, with the station’s best: cellophane and cardboard-boxed donuts. At her hairdresser’s, following her first chemotherapy treatment, Lori met another cancer patient. As the hairdresser shaved the final wisps of hair from Lori’s head – redeeming her rather botched attempts to shave herself – a customer approached; Tracy, newly diagnosed with cancer, was facing nine bouts of chemotherapy. Ironically, the women’s chemotherapy treatments would coincide, allowing their friendship to grow in their shared experiences, challenges, and hopes. Lori continues to find joy in her friendship with Tracy today.
In a time span of just 10 years, Lori had faced her mother’s death, her own divorce, had been diagnosed with two serious illnesses, and accepted the life changes wrought by each experience. Both during and after these challenges, Lori’s quiet faith and courage have enabled her to focus on others, sharing both knowledge and compassion. Professionally, Lori informs and assists new and continuing employees in the Millcreek School District. When she learns of someone in the District facing cancer, Lori provides compassion and hope with a smile, kind word, coffee, or card. In the community, too, she reaches out, volunteering for the American Cancer Society and serving as a mentor for women newly diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Additionally, she walks the survivor lap in Erie’s annual Relay for Life fundraiser and has been a model in the survivors’ fashion show.
Lori has learned, paradoxically, that she has developed more patience in some respects while sacrificing this trait in other areas. She has gained personal strength, yet recognizes, too, that she must be willing to accept others’ help. Clearly, Lori epitomizes her posted definition of survivorship, for even though she has faced personal loss and serious illness, Lori refuses to dwell on adversity; rather than being victimized, she has not only survived, but also grown. With faith, empathy, grace, and a sense of humor, Lori Zampogna radiates a winning attitude, testifying to the optimism, strength, and beauty of the human spirit.