Dr. Reuben Bareis: Senior Samaritan

By Cindy Card Buchholz

Dr. Reuben Bareis of Rapid City is proof that doctors never truly retire.

In August, Dr. Bareis discussed health care reform on South Dakota Public Radio. He writes occasional letters to newspaper editors about healthcare topics that concern him and has been on a crusade to educate the public about an advanced directive called Comfort One.

“A law was passed in 2004 and amended in 2005 that makes it possible for somebody to declare they don’t want to be resuscitated,” he said. After a person fills out the proper application through South Dakota Emergency Medical Services, he or she receives a bracelet to wear that declares their wish.

At 81 years old, Dr. Bareis wears the bracelet to alert emergency medical service providers, hospitals and other medical personnel about his cardiopulmonary resuscitation directives and protocols. “Almost five years have gone by and there are still lots of people who are not aware of it.” 

He’s also been involved with the Arthritis Association, and he’s regularly asked for free medical advice. Although he retired 10 years ago, neighbors of Dr. Bareis still seek his professional advice when they run into him in the dining hall or elevator at Westhills Village Retirement Community in Rapid City. He says that never gets old.

(Read the rest of this story in FACES Fall ‘09)

Bob Burke: Fathers, Kids and Kings

By Danie Koskan

There’s a saying around Bob Burke’s office that people fall into one of two categories.

“Either you’re a Beatles fan or you’re an Elvis fan,” said the 36-year-old admirer of the King. “You can’t be both.”

Bob attributes his musical taste to his father, who introduced him to the rock ‘n’ roll legend at a tender age.

“I had to listen to him over and over as a kid,” he said.

It may not have been love at first listen, but his father’s fondness for all things Elvis eventually became his own.

Music was a constant through Bob’s formative years, but so was his dad. His father’s unwavering presence was a gift Bob wishes all fathers could give their children.

“Dads want to be involved with their kids’ lives,” he said. “Sometimes they just don’t know how to do it.”

Bob shows them how.   

(Read the rest of this story in FACES Fall ‘09)

Inside the Primal Quest: Lisa Gustin, Gary Haven, Andrew Busse and Eric Hansen

By Danie Koskan

Read profiles of the Primal Quest team in FACES Fall ‘09)

Markie Scholz: All in a Day’s Play

By Kaija Swisher

The black gloves move swiftly, and Markie Scholz is no longer alone on stage.  She shares the spotlight with dragons, talking animals, trolls, and witches, to name just a few of the cast of characters that make up Dragons Are Too Seldom Puppet Theatre.  Entertaining audiences of all ages with stories of good thwarting evil, Markie Scholz reminds people that dragons might be too seldom, but magic is never rare within her puppetry.

Watching Markie create whole worlds with puppetry, her passion for her art is almost palpable.  “I think the key is to remember that you are creating a vehicle to provide entertainment, and unless you are providing entertainment, you are failing,” says Markie.  “I am not in the top million of the greatest puppeteers around, but I do puppetry well, and I am a storyteller, and I do that extremely well.  I combine the two in a way that I think not many people do. I try to combine puppetry as entertainment with storytelling as entertainment—and to make the two mesh so well that you don’t know where one starts and one stops.”

(Read the rest of this story in FACES Fall ‘09)

Variations on a Knowles Theme

By Judy Love

Jack Knowles stood on his podium at the Rushmore Plaza Civic Center last May, left arm raised above his head. Barely turning his head, he scanned the orchestra, making sure that all eyes were on him. With a sudden flourish, he forcefully swung his baton, and the orchestra came to life with the first explosive notes of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. It was the last offering of the final concert of the Black Hills Symphony Orchestra’s 74^th season. It was the last piece that Jack would direct in his long reign as its conductor. After leading the group for nearly half of its seasons, he stepped down and passed on his baton to his son, Bruce, then associate director.

Bruce was appointed conductor by the orchestra’s board of directors soon after Jack announced his retirement. That the orchestra would continue to be led by a Knowles was no surprise to Black Hills concertgoers. So many family members have held positions of influence in the group that some have dubbed it the “Knowles family orchestra.” Jack’s wife of 43 years, Deborah, is the principal clarinetist, and Bruce’s wife, Carol, is concertmaster.

(Read the rest of this story in FACES Fall ‘09)

Learning Curve: Dieting 101

By James Van Nuys

“Blessed are the thin, for they shall inherit the beach.”

 

It was becoming increasingly evident that I was not thin. The publishers of Black Hills FACES had tried to be nice about it, but they had informed me that the magazine wanted its staff to project an image of youth, health, and vitality. “We realize,” the memo said, “that there is not much you can do about the youth problem, but we feel it’s only fair to notify you that we have interviewed several art directors for whom physical fitness is, perhaps, more of a priority than it is in your case. We have made no decision as yet, and trust that this situation can be resolved in the best interest of all parties.”

I understood corporate-speak well enough to interpret this as: “Lose weight or lose your job,” and in this economy I wasn’t about to leave a lucrative position with one of the nation’s most successful publications without a fight. It was D-Day; the big “D” had to start immediately.  Not tomorrow–today.

(Read the rest of this story in FACES Fall ‘09)

Cover Story: Stu, Sara and Scott Henderson – Straight and True

Looking back, it was probably a pretty lame question to ask a trio of champion archers, but I had to start someplace. “So how fast does the arrow travel?” I asked Stu, Scott and Sara Henderson as they gathered bows, arrows and other paraphernalia out of their truck to prepare for our FACES photo shoot in the backyard of their Spearfish Canyon cabin.

It was a warm day, typical of mid-summer in the Northern Black Hills, sun shining one minute and light rain showers the next. I had decided to take advantage of a rainy interlude to get some preliminary questions out of the way.

“I can figure that out,” Stu said. “Can I borrow your pen and a piece of paper?”

I watched in amazement as the retired Navy fighter pilot plotted out a mathematical equation–complete with x’s, fractions and equal signs. The pen scratched across the paper for a few moments and he was done.
”Mine is 191 miles per hour, Scott’s is 204 and Sara’s is 164,” Stu said, with a satisfied nod.

Daughter Sara and son Scott exchanged knowing smiles but kept silent. With four teenagers of my own, I am well versed in the nonverbal communication of teens—the eye-rolling, the head shaking, the here-we-go-again expressions. Which is why I zeroed in on Scott’s and Sara’s expressions.  What was this?  Respect? Admiration?  High schoolers actually thinking their dad was cool?

This exchange provided my first glimpse of the bonds within the Henderson family.  There would be more to come, and collectively they would explain not only why these three would pick a sport they could enjoy as a family, but also why they made the tough decision a couple of years ago to leave the military life and their home in Oregon to move back to the Northern Hills where Stu grew up.  It’s a story of sacrifice and choices.  Mostly, it’s a story about what it means to be a family.

By Beth Palmer

(Read the rest of this story in FACES Fall ‘09)