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1847

Otterbein University

Inaugural Issue

2012

Behind the sandwich boards

Schneider’s chaotic kitchen Hangover remedies that actually work Otterbein ballplayer pitches in


from the editor Greetings:

Here we are: It’s J-term at Otterbein. It’s cold and I have to clear the frost off my ’97 Grand Marquis before I make the pre-9 a.m. trip to campus every day. We’re a ragtag group of students, some journalism majors, some not. We’ve got a mix of all the classes from the seniors all the way down to the freshmen. As different as we all are, we’ve worked hard and stretched our abilities and learned a thing or two. It’s our differences and our own little expertises that have started ideas and discussions that seemed to have no structure, but all the purpose in the world. I love news organizations, writing, reporting, those ad people that take away design space and even those pesky copy editors that want to change my words that I put way too much value in no matter how grammatically incorrect I am or how many majestic words I’ve made up (why isn’t Chuck Norris a verb?). I started when I was in high school and my love for this trade has grown during my last four years on campus. For most of my years I was a writer and section editor, so this is a totally different world being editor-in-chief. It’s been an awesome experience being “the guy” in the newsroom. This is my first editor-in-chief experience and it’s everything I thought it would be. It’s hectic; you’ve got to remember not only what you have to do, but what a room of people have to do. It’s worrisome, wondering what exactly is coming in and having enough time to read it. On top of all of this, this is the first ever issue of 1847 and it’s an altogether different experience creating a brand and starting from scratch rather than picking up where someone else left off, like the Tan & Cardinal. While the choices that we made were ours alone to make, we couldn’t have made such a great product in such a short amount of time without the help of our advisers, Sherry Paprocki and Hillary Warren, who have had a depth of journalistic and magazine knowledge to help guide our decisions. I’d also like to acknowledge Richard Gilbert and his feature writing classes. He’s been a big supporter of getting a magazine like ours at Otterbein, and he helped me develop my own writing two years ago in that class. The content created from that class has been very good, and we’re even featuring a couple of those articles in this issue of 1847. I’m proud of this magazine and I invite everyone to read it and show it around because I feel that we’ve put together one fantastic magazine in a relatively short amount of time. We’ve got some great stories in here that I’m sure you all will find interesting or entertaining. So go ahead, get started and enjoy the issue.

Steven Collins Editor-in-Chief

1847 staff Editor-in-Chief Steven Collins

Managing Editor Leah Driscoll Senior Editor/Senior Writer Mike Cirelli Writers Jon Holbrook Kyle Lewis Robert Reece Robert Szabo Associate Editors Alisa Hartman Morgan Hendrickson Creative Director Kristen Sapp Designers Thomas Kimmel Stephanie Parker Photographer Kathleen Quigley Marketing Director Josh Adkins Advertising Director Erica Costilla Web Editor Lindsey Hobbs Web Assistant Editor/Social Media Manager Danielle Lanning Advisers Sherry Paprocki Hillary Warren

Policies The views expressed in this magazine do not necessarily reflect the views of the faculty and administration of Otterbein University. Opinions expressed in signed columns are those of the writer and not of the magazine staff. Positions in unsigned editorials represent a consensus of the editorial staff. 1847 is a student publication. One hundred percent of the production, editing and design is done by the students. The first copy of 1847 is free to the public. Each additional copy is $3, and payment can be made at the office at 33 Collegeview Road, Westerville, OH 43081. Offenders will be prosecuted.

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Cover photo by Stephanie Parker


contents

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Alumnus makes A night with the pastry makers primetime appearances

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Sunday morning antidotes

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Singing and smiling from the sidewalk

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From the field to the community

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Work out without the gym Don’t have time to make it to the gym? Want a new way to exercise? Here are some tips on changing it up.

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Are these people really into me? Editor’s experience in the wild and less-thanwonderful world of online dating.

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From pink hippos to Nerf guns: Living without the Internet is easier than you think Editor-in-chief spent an entire seven days without Internet and managed to only go crazy on paper.

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Best sports photos of 2011 Get the stories behind Creative Director Kristen Sapp’s favorite sports shots of the year.

photos by mike cirelli, kathleen quigley and kristen sapp. sam jager photo provided by dan steinberg.

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around campus

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Otterbein the

THROUGH

seasons (Far left) The snow-covered grass and bare trees stand proudly in the regal Towers lawn.

photo by kathleen quigley

(Top left) A rainy fall day forces students to head inside the Clements Recreation Center to work out or play pick-up games with friends. (Middle left) As summer peers around the corner, windows begin to pop open and let in fresh air. (Below) The freshly bloomed trees and blue spring sky accompany the quiet library.

photo by kristen sapp

photo by stephanie parker

—Morgan Hendrickson

photo by kristen sapp

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Fitness fanatic and student demonstrates how easy it is to exercise without leaving your dorm. ROB SZABO staff writer

Ever taken a walk to the rec center and found it packed with little room for more? Especially when the New Year’s resolution crew is invading for the first two months of every year, only to discontinue shortly after. Working out at the rec can also become an anxious moment for some, lowering self-esteem when others with more experience are throwing up high numbers or participating in an all-out Navy SEALs training regimen. Have you ever stopped to think about your other options? You don’t necessarily need a complete gym in order to get into the best shape of your life; you can achieve it right in your dorm room. By following a few rules, you can be on your way to your dream physique. A workout that includes everyday items is included here. Now, this workout alone will not get you a fight club-worthy body. A lot of commitment and sacrifice comes with achieving a body like that.

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photo by kathleen quigley

Work out without the gym

While it might look strange to your friends, doing curls with gallon jugs filled with water or sand is highly effective.

Warm up You’d be surprised by the importance of this. Muscles can become tightened and need to be loosened up before any kind of exercise regimen. The last thing you want is to have to take a ride to St. Ann’s because your dorm room workout was too intense. My suggestion is to fill your backpack up to a weight that is comfortable for you, yet still a challenge, and walk around the dorm for 15 minutes. While doing so, loosen up your arms with a nice, easy stretch. If you’re so inclined, go ahead and do a few minutes of jumping jacks. That will get your heart rate going and some calories burning. Workout Usually in these types of articles you’ll find there’s a specific day for everything. For example, chest and triceps one day followed by back and biceps another day. It’s doubtful anyone living on campus has got a full-sized weight bench and a Smith machine lying around in front of the television. With the dorm workout, that won’t be necessary. Do the following exercises whenever you have time. In the morning, between classes, at night before bed. It’s totally up to you.

Pushups Yes, those dreadful things your high school gym teacher made you do before every class. A common calisthenics exercise, yet highly effective. Pushups exercise the pectoral muscles, triceps and anterior deltoids, with ancillary benefits to the rest of the deltoids, serratus anterior, coracobrachialis and the midsection as a whole. That’s a whole lot of muscles you probably didn’t even know you had. Mix in a few variations and you already have a great start. Make sure to use your pectorals in particular. A good tool that many find helpful is to pretend your arms are numb and push up with your chest while flexing at the same time. You want your arms to do the least of the work.Try doing a few variations of it, something that looks like this: Three sets of 15 pushups Three sets of 15 inclined pushups (put your hands on your desk) Three sets of 15 declined pushups (put your feet on your chair) You may not be able to complete all the reps on the first try, especially all in a row. That’s fine — it should take you some time and even set a goal for your future workouts.


Plank You don’t need to find a pirate ship to do this workout. A great core exercise is the plank. Used in yoga classes, this exercise targets various parts of your upper body including arms, back, legs and internal abdomen muscles. All it takes

is a little open floor space in your dorm room. 1. Similar to a pushup position, start face down, but rather than supporting yourself with just your hands, rest on your elbows and hands. 2. Keep your neck and spine naturally straight and tighten your glutes and abdominal muscles. 3. Hold this position for 30-60 seconds and repeat as many times as you can. Wall sits These are great for working your butt and thighs. Stand with your feet hipwidth apart, about one to two feet away from the wall. Lean so that your back is in contact with the wall. Bend your knees, sliding down the wall until your thighs are almost parallel to the floor. Push your arms into the wall behind you to engage your triceps and shoulders, too. Try to work your way up to a minute and do that three times. All of these are just suggestions to get you started. It really is easy to work out just about anywhere. As you improve, start to make things a bit more difficult. Add some weight to your back while doing pushups, try to hold your plank longer and get lower on the wall sits. It’s all about the improvements. The most important topic in the fitness world is that of nutrition. A wise man named Jay Cutler, the former Mr.

Olympia, once told me that obtaining your fitness goal takes dedication, specifically in diet. It was stated that improved fitness is 80 percent in your diet and 20 percent in your workout. After five years of dedicating myself, I have found that that number is spot on. You can work out all you want with a perfect program in both cardio and weightlifting, but if you’re eating a McDonald’s double cheeseburger for your post-workout meal, you will have a long way to go before reaching anything of quality. A good diet includes whole grains, fruits, vegetables, a good amount of lean protein (such as chicken, eggs, turkey and fish) and a lot of water. Supplements are most definitely not required, but if you feel like it would help, I recommend picking what I like to call the big three: fish oils, a multivitamin and a quality tub of protein powder. Instead of wasting countless dollars on supplements promising results that are unobtainable, pick up quality versions of the big three and you won’t regret it. You are what you eat. Choose the right foods, follow a strict workout regimen, use the right supplements and before you know it you will see your body morph right in front of you. There aren’t too many things in this world that are more satisfying than sticking with a goal and conquering it. You can do it; the only one stopping you is yourself.

photo by kathleen quigley

Water bottle biceps curl What could be more hardcore than pumping a few water bottles while your friends cheer you on? Well, that probably isn’t the case, but it will sure make them jealous once they see the results you’re getting. If you’re feeling like the Hulk, go ahead and use a milk jug filled with sand or water. By simply activating the muscle, you are making it work. Even a little resistance aids in muscle growth and gets rid of lactic acid buildup throughout the day. It’s also a great thing to do before going out on the town. Nobody has to even know, and you can go out with a great feeling from not only the endorphins being released, but because you have a massive pump. Keep your elbows to the side and flex your biceps as you slowly raise and lower the weight. It’s the same situation as the pushups: You want to be using only your biceps. The most important rule is to make sure you’re feeling the bicep work. Go ahead and give this a try: Five sets of 25 (slow and persistent; the goal is to maximize the pump)

Planking, the recent trend to lie horizontally in random places, is actually a good workout for your entire body, including your arms, legs, back and abdomen. 1847

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One of the biggest things in life is to enjoy what you’re doing with people you enjoy being around every day.

” photo provided by dan steinberg

Sam Jaeger

Alumnus makes primetime appearances Sam Jaeger was once a typical Otterbein theater student, and now he has a starring gig on the hit NBC show “Parenthood.” ALISA HARTMAN associate editor

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A typical day of being on set for NBC’s comedy-drama “Parenthood” starts between 6 or 7 a.m. for Sam Jaeger. He gets his material a week in advance to look at. Once the makeup artists are all done with his hair and face, he takes the stage while looking over his lines a few times, making sure he gets it right. The director yells “action!” while Jaeger and the other actors get into their characters, trying not to “act a scene to death.” Jaeger, 35, is a ’99 graduate of Otterbein. He remembers his years

before starring in “Parenthood,” first as an undergraduate in Otterbein’s Theatre Department and then the challenges he has faced since then while building a successful career. Jaeger talked about his relationship with director Ron Howard and his professional experiences by phone from his home in Montebello, Calif. It was not only Otterbein’s theater program that drew him in, but also the other activities taking place around the small campus. He looked past the acting


what makes him so likeable onscreen. “I need to tell my story the best as I possibly can, while trying to get to the heart of what we learn the best — explaining human condition,” Jaeger said. Jaeger has been inspired by actor Gene Hackman for years. He describes Hackman as “focused and grounded” in the work he portrays. Jaeger was able to do some work with him on “Behind Enemy Lines” and said it was an amazing experience to be able to work with him. Jaeger relies heavily on the support of his family to continue what he loves doing. Offscreen, he enjoys going to the park with his 21-month-old son and spending time with his daughter (a junior in high school) and his wife. With other free time he Although “Take Me Home” is about a long road trip tries finding as many across the United States, more than a third of the other opportunities for movie was filmed in and around Columbus. acting and directing outside the show as he can. In 10 years, all the way to California. The movie was Jaeger hopes to still be able to make shot in 13 different states and has many a living for himself and his family by different types of scenery, such as deserts acting. and mountains. He wrote and directed a film, With Jaeger’s Otterbein years fading “Take Me Home,” last year that will be into the past, he continues to learn premiering in March. He and his wife are from others around him. For example, the two lead roles in the film. Jaeger plays Ron Howard — seen on “Happy Days” a character by the name of Thom, a taxi and today a well-known producer and driver with nothing, who agrees to take director. “I would have lived a happy life a woman named Claire from New York if I could do what he did,” Jaeger said.

takemehomemovie.com

aspect and noticed Otterbein’s athletics and other extracurricular groups to be involved in. Jaeger met his best friends and his wife, Amber, at Otterbein. From not knowing one another at all in a class of 45 to becoming married, Sam and Amber found each other. They were both in the theater program, unimpressed by one another before becoming best friends by the time they graduated. Later they got married and started a family of their own. The people he met along the way kept him “focused, humble and driven,” he said. He gained great techniques and learned how to tackle a performance to the best of his ability. Jaeger’s first major role on the big screen took place in New York City, where he guest starred in an episode of “Law & Order.” He was still a senior at Otterbein, setting the bar for the talent he would bring to his acting career. Nervous yet excited, Jaeger succeeded in his first professional acting opportunity. He has shown up in many different films and hit TV shows over the years. In 2006 he was in films such as “Catch and Release,” “S.C.R.E.W.D.,” “Lucky Number Slevin” and “Friday Night Lights.” “Parenthood” production started in 2009 and then later went on TV in 2010. Jaeger’s character on the show, Joel Graham, is a stay-at-home father who seems to be a hit with other stay-at-home mothers at his fictional daughter’s school. It puts tension in his and his wife’s marriage on the show. “One of the biggest things in life is to enjoy what you’re doing with people you enjoy being around every day,” Jaeger said. It’s clear how much he enjoys being on this show with his co-star Erika Christensen and how thankful he is to have such a supporting crew with him. How in-touch Jaeger is with his emotions and feelings while acting is

Working with Otterbein students, your business and others to create award-winning print and digital products to promote your brand. Visit us today: www.rsrockmedia.com


A night with the pastry makers Schneider’s owners Jeff and Debbie explain their lifelong passion. LAURA GREENSLADE “Come in. I saw you through the window, but I’ll let you in this way. How was your meal the other night?” Jeff Hamlin asks. Although I am completely baffled by what he means by this, the polite reply “Fine thank you!” emerges from my mouth. I have no idea what meal or what restaurant he is talking about. Dazed and confused, I follow him to his office to put down my bags. Pulling my notebook from my purse, I push aside the question and concentrate on learning about Schneider’s Bakery. “Do you drink coffee? No, you probably drink tea,” Jeff says with a wry chuckle as he leads me through the small chalk-colored customer area into the main workroom of Schneider’s Bakery. It becomes more apparent as time goes on that he finds his own sense of humor hilarious. A mixture of outrageous, slightly politically incorrect observations and a couple childlike punch lines create his unique wit that spurs the momentum of slow nights. As he turns away, the scent of the shop becomes overwhelmingly apparent. It is intoxicating. A gentle, syrupy-sweet perfume fills the space, touching every wall and moving with him around the empty metal stand he places a tray of raw pastries on. The room smells edible as Jeff turns away again to attend to the next item. He is constantly moving, always in motion. Of tallish height, with short salt-and-pepper hair, Jeff ’s oval face and bright eyes are always focused on work. Around him, everything in the room is in overdrive: Clunky machinery mixes batter and dough, the floor vibrating under their strenuous churning; five or six bodies move swiftly around each other in the confined space, never colliding, never once in each other’s way. There seems to be a rhythm to everything. Four more trays join the stand, a collection of delicious-looking sugary treats on metal platters waiting to be

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photo by kathleen quigley

contributing writer

Schneider’s owner Jeff Hamlin said 200-300 Otterbein students come into the bakery each night. baked to perfection. There is metal everywhere: Bowls, knives and kitchen apparatuses litter every surface, and the rotisserie oven sits proudly, covering a large portion of the right-hand wall. Two large sinks sit in the back right corner of the large rectangular room opposite the infamous doughnut fryer. Jeff moves across to them now and turns on the taps, and hot water blasts into the sink. Leaving the taps running, he turns and pauses for a moment at a wooden workbench as steam plumes up into the room, increasing the already soaring temperature another few degrees. On the previous Monday, Jeff had perched on the wooden bench and reminisced. Wearing a red baseball cap and an Ohio State football jersey, his demeanor was, as always, just as casual

as his outfit. As he reflected back to an earlier time in his life, he seemed to fall into a daze, remembering his time spent within the walls of this room. “My wife Debbie and I bought the business in 1986,” he said. “Before 1986 I worked here as a kid. I started working here in 1974, so I’ve been here 37 years. It’s the only job I’ve ever had.” The only job he’s ever had. A concept that seems so foreign in this society. As a successful businessman, Jeff has achieved the impossible: He has somehow managed to create a life out of very little life experience. “I’m a home boy. I’ve lived in Westerville almost my whole life,” he said. “So my wife and I own the business, my daughter works in the business — she’s a teacher in Westerville, so when she’s on break she works. And my son,


On a cold mid-November Wednesday at 8:30 p.m., an hour after the evening shift began, the noise in the room surges as the other four staff members continue with their work —

“ ”

I’ve been here 37 years. It’s the only job I’ve ever had. Jeff Hamlin

mixing, kneading and cutting. Jeff passes by his wife Debbie carrying a hot tray of fresh pastries. “Can you understand her, Debbie?” he asks, referring to my British accent. I’m an exchange student studying at Otterbein for the semester. He smiles as he and Nate set the hot pastries on the stand to cool. With her eyes closed behind her metal half-moon glasses, Debbie takes a moment to repeat her mantra under her breath as if to convince herself: “I love my job. I love my job. I love my job.” Only an hour into tonight’s shift and it’s clear she is feeling tested. Opening her eyes, she focuses as she continues with her explanation. “What I’m doing here is preparing everything for the final steps.

Fillings, icings, minor decorations — all that needs prepping while the mix is cooking.” Her hands move with practiced ease, pouring sugary-looking powder and fine flavors into a large Tupperware bowl and whisking them together. Never once does she lose concentration, but moves simply as if these actions are genetically programmed into her. A woman low in height with a round face and small, pert nose, Debbie’s lifestyle as a baker has left deep lines etched into her face by the years of nocturnal work, like a map of her life. Her mousy brown cropped hair is untamed and slightly robust,

photo by kathleen quigley

who now lives in Texas, he used to work here till he graduated college. So it’s all family fun.” Schneider’s bakery was established in 1953 or ’54 from what Jeff and Debbie can remember. Mr. Schneider was the founder and owned the business with his wife, who is still alive and now in her 90s. Once based across the street in the basement of a grocery store, the shop moved to its current location in 1957. So in Jeff ’s eyes, the bakery was established in ’57 because that’s when he can say for sure. What makes Schneider’s so unique is its situation in Westerville, an area that against all odds has managed to avoid corporate invasion. State Street is still made up of mostly family-owned or independent business, unlike the chainfilled roads of many small cities in Ohio.

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photos by kathleen quigley


But somehow it is fine. Despite a staff mainly consisting of those who “don’t get it,” the business is doing well because both Debbie and Jeff are great believers in systems. Everyone knows their place and their work. “Everything on those metal trays is mine. Don’t touch it ’cause I’ll have to hurt ya.” She turns as if to aim this comment at Tim’s back and laughs a high-pitched laugh that trails off and always ends in a sigh.

Jeff Hamlin went to study bakery at Kansas State University in 1978. After working at the bakery from the age of 15, he graduated from high school and decided that it was the only career path he wanted to take. As soon as he had finished with his degree, Jeff returned to Westerville to be permanently reunited with his high school sweetheart, Debbie. They lived together for a few years before marrying and buying the shop three years later. “We lived in sin. That’s OK nowadays ... back then it was a little, er … ” He laughs. “My mom didn’t care much for it.” His life became entwined with the city of Westerville as he and Debbie raised two children. Their daughter, now expecting her first child, lives just a few short blocks behind the bakery. “Yeah, I’m gonna be a grandpa in four months.” Jeff smiles sheepishly. The first of the family’s next generation.

I’m a home boy. I’ve lived in Westerville my whole life.

Jeff Hamlin

Back at the wooden workbench, Jeff stands over a meter and a half of dough stretched out in front of him. It stands out like a strange animal carcass. The texture is wrinkled and furrowed like elephant skin. As he begins to knead the dough, throwing his whole body weight into it, it moves like elastic under his hands. He doesn’t seem to tire of the activity as he works on steadily. He seems perfectly content, in a way that only a true passion can keep a person happy.

photos by kathleen quigley

much like her personality. She manages to come across at first impression as both terrifyingly blunt and strangely endearing. As she continues working, she walks around the stand with a limp. “I broke my foot late spring,” she says, rolling her eyes. “My daughter came in to help out while I was off. She said to me, ‘I don’t know how you stand it, I ain’t going to miss it.’” Looking around at the agitated men at work, she smiles a cynical smile, making it glaringly obvious as to why she feels the same. Slightly lopsided on her feet, she moves through the open door and into the back room. The cool, fresh air feels like hitting a wall after the stuffy heat of the oven room. It is clear this is Debbie’s haven. “We just got a new workspace in here,” she explains, throwing her worker’s hand down on the clean white workbench. It’s a small, L-shaped surface that to the untrained eye would not look like enough room to prepare a meal for a family of four, let alone prepare hundreds of cookies. But Debbie’s is not an untrained eye. Her skillfully trained mind sees the space and goes about setting up a conveyor belt of order. One side is clear and prepped for decorating, with shelves to hold sprinkle cups, bowls of frosting neatly pushed to one side and a large mix of icing; on the other she places a tray of fresh vanilla cookies. Working methodically, she begins throwing cookies from the tray into a mixed bowl of yellow icing. Each delicious treat hits the mix with a satisfying plop. She then lays them back down on a freshly lined tray. She seems so serene in this environment, working alone and systematically. It’s obvious she relishes her own space. “Is it difficult working in this environment?” I ask. “Yes. Some of those guys are just weird,” she replies just as another worker, Tim, walks by. Seemingly oblivious, she continues, “Nate gets it. The others don’t, and 75 percent of the year that’s fine, they can work at their own pace, but the rest of the time they can’t. It’s hard and that’s why Jeff sometimes gets stressed in there with them.” Tim moves past again, either ignorantly unaware that his incapabilities are being discussed a mere two feet from him or simply satisfied with pretending he can’t hear.

Laura Greenslade, a British exchange student from Roehampton University, studied at Otterbein during the fall semester of 2011.

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From pink hippos to Nerf guns:

Living without the Internet is easier than you 1847 editor leaves the Internet behind for a week. In life, sometimes you just become overstimulated and need to take a break from what you’re constantly doing and recharge the batteries or change the light bulbs. That’s exactly what I did when, on the spur of the moment, I chose to spend an entire week away from the Internet. That’s right, no Internet. What does that mean, exactly? No Facebook, no checking email, no going on Twitter, no reading about last night’s sports scores, no seeing headlines of the latest celebrity news and, hardest of all for someone who uploads nearly daily content, no YouTube. In the days following my experience away from the Internet, I got quite the range of responses from people when I told them. Things ranged from “How did you survive?” to “What did you do with your time?” to “That must have been great.” The truth of the matter is, I did miss the Internet. Not because I’m addicted to posting or uploading or tweeting but because of the general lack of access to knowledge I faced. I was watching TV one night with my family and a commercial came on that featured Shirley Temple and I thought to myself, “I wonder how old she is, or if she died.” With the Internet, this information

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that I just hadn’t gotten around to doing. is a short trip to Wikipedia to type in I managed to start and finish a 600her name and get the information, but without the Web, it’s a trip to the library page book titled “Those Guys Have All the Fun” about what goes on behind and a conversation with a librarian the scenes at ESPN’s headquarters in who pulls out some recent article about Bristol, Conn. I also spent some time Shirley Temple. I missed the access of going out with my friends and celebrated information the most. Christmas It was with my family comforting to instead of not know what rushing off was going on in to spend my the lives of all Amazon gift the people that card money or I’m friends with researching the on Facebook best prices on and Twitter lightsabers. who constantly I even got a update their little scientific statuses. The with my extra good thing time off, trying about this was to test the that I met up theory that with my “real you can’t really life” friends a bend a bullet, couple times only I used my during the Nerf guns. Sure week. enough, it’s a Since I fact that bullets wasn’t on the don’t bend and Web at all “Wanted” is during the day, pure fiction. I had a lot of I even did extra spare Without Internet, one must venture to a little creative time to do a library to do even trivial research. writing and some things photo by kathleen quigley

STEVEN COLLINS editor-in-chief


Six ways we abuse social media ALISA HARTMAN and MORGAN HENDRICKSON

think

associate editors

photo by kathleen quigley

Hiding Behind the Screen

wrote a short story about a pink hippo who is friends with a blue seagull. Since there wasn’t any Internet, I went back and spent some time playing some of my older games from the days of my PlayStation 1 and 2. I had forgotten how good some classic games were and how much less aggravating they were than the current crop of online multiplayer-based games like “Call of Duty” and “Battlefield.” After my week was over and I’d had my fun, it was time to come back. I believe it is impossible to attend classes at Otterbein, especially ones in the journalism department, without the use of the Internet. It was certainly chaotic, coming back to nearly 300 nonspam messages on my various email accounts, Facebook, Twitter and YouTube. But it was worth it. I came back to Otterbein refreshed and ready to start J-term and work on this magazine. I had so many good ideas and one pretty awesome story to tell. I suggest that you try this at some point because it was very refreshing to come back with things to think about and new ideas to bring to the table. Who knows, I might one day even try a week without any technology. Steven Collins is a senior journalism major and is the editor-in-chief of 1847.

We call these people the keyboard warriors, cowards or trolls. We are all familiar with those who gain confidence when they sit behind computer screens and keyboards, thinking that they’re untouchable while saying malicious insults in their own bubbles. We’re all a little dumber for having read those worthless words they would never say face to face. They think they’re doing a duty to the world when in reality they’re the laughingstock of the Internet.

Becoming “FBO” Why is it that relationships nowadays find grounding in the simple recognition of a Facebook update? What’s really comical is when a friend of yours comes up to you, asking, “Are you two Facebook official?” Or even better, when a good friend of yours legitimately has a fake girlfriend or boyfriend posted on the Web. Come on, if you’re really looking for a relationship online, that’s why there’s eHarmony.

Creating Facebook Pages for Babies and Pets What comes over people who create a Facebook page for their unborn baby or pet? These people tend to talk from the baby’s or pet’s perspective, but newsflash: It’s not cute. Dogs and babies do not have the capacity to understand what they’re a part of in the real world, let alone the online world.

Having Personal Conversations Have you ever seen those comments or tweets exchanged between only two people and been unable to follow what they’re saying? If you are having a personal conversation, we would suggest you use your phone or do it in person, not where everyone can see your uninteresting business. No one cares.

Creating False Identities Everyone is familiar with the typical MySpace/Facebook angle to make yourself look skinny or sexy. Or the typical kissy face? Come on, you look like a duck. Even better are the people putting pictures of themselves half-naked as their default. Yeah, we all know the term “sex sells,” but why are you standing in front of your bathroom mirror taking a picture with your shirt off ? No one cares what shower curtain you have. If you are not comfortable with the way you look in pictures, Photoshop is the next step in creating your fake identity. After this long process, you see this person and don’t recognize them from their Facebook page.

Acting Like Cavemen It’s quite humorous when you try to have a one-on-one conversation and someone is looking everywhere but your eyes. These cavemen are becoming so comfortable with their barriers that they don’t know how to be personable. And what in the world happened to talking on the phone? The best way to get to know someone when you are not in person used to be talking on the phone. Now you catch people writing novels through text. When you find yourself writing a trilogy, you should probably just make a call.

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Are these people really into me? A cynical but open-minded single girl recounts her firsthand experiences with online dating and the handful of people she met. LEAH DRISCOLL managing editor

“If you had to name your greatest motivation in life thus far, what would it be?” This was how I was supposed to lure in a mate. Whales had their songs, blue-footed boobies had their choreographed dances, skunks had their musk and I had this question. There were four potential answers: love, wealth, expression or knowledge. Huddled up in the round, green chair tucked beneath the cave of my lofted dorm bed at Otterbein, I asked nobody, “What the hell does this even really mean?” This was it — after the excruciating task of trying to create a profile, hundreds of questions awaited my careful consideration so I could lasso me a boy. And I was stalling on the first question. I ended up choosing “expression” because it was the vaguest of my choices, the one answer I could mold myself around while still remaining the best possible version of myself. So this was online dating, where I could become the incarnation of myself that I’d always dreamed of embodying, right until the moment I realized she’s only half the person I am. OkCupid’s tagline is “The best dating site on Earth,” which is a bit of a lofty claim and one that I find comically phrased, like the site is run by a team of frat boys. It turns out that it’s not, that Chris Coyne and his three co-founders are all monumental math nerds with degrees from Harvard or MIT — polymathic nerds, actually, since they all helped found and oversee the creation of every high schooler’s best friend, SparkNotes, as well. All 127 questions I’ve answered, from “Do you think drug use with your partner can be a romantic activity?” to “Do you believe in dinosaurs?,”

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So this was online dating, where I could become the incarnation of myself that I’d always dreamed of embodying, right until the moment I realized she’s only half the person I am.

have been applied to the site’s system of calculating match percentages, which is how OkCupid tells me that Brandon and I are a 92 percent match while Mark, who used “your” instead of “you’re,” only makes a 29 percent match with me. The equation considers my answer, the answers I’d like to see from potential partners and the level of importance — from “irrelevant” to “mandatory” — I place on the question. OkCupid is all about the science of matching, a fact emphasized by its logo of hearts bubbling out of an Erlenmeyer flask. Even when my search criteria are narrowed to what seem like constricted characteristics, I’m left with hundreds of choices. There are over 80 pages of 20-25-year-old males who are interested in females within 25 miles of Westerville and who are not only single, but have at least one photo on their profile and have been online in the past week. There are a lot of us clicking and browsing around, and maybe that’s supposed to bring us together, but most of the time the hollowness of my conversations left me feeling oddly alone. I spent one Sunday night lamely flirting with some guy named shadows8. My roommate and I were watching “Zoolander,” cackling and quoting

our way through what I will always consider Ben Stiller’s greatest cinematic achievement, because the day Blue Steel stops being a relevant pop culture reference is the day I turn in my resignation from existence. OkCupid has this feature where you can rate a user’s profile based on a five-star system. If you give someone a rating of four or five stars, the site is kind enough to send this person an email exclaiming “Someone chose you!” in its subject line. Receiving one of these emails is like being half-heartedly punched in the gut — a cross between ticklish and wanting to die because oh God, people are ranking me like prize chickens at the county fair. Shadows8 chose me. I told my roommate that I was “flirting with some hot dude,” which I found hilarious, mostly because I was convinced that guys with beach-ready abs like his didn’t talk to girls with hoodie-ready curves like mine. But he had a really nice smile, not something effortless that I would be quick to distrust, but a grin just on this side of toothiness, like he was genuinely laughing on the inside. His profile was utterly forgettable. That sounds harsh, but after encountering guy upon guy who was “just your average nerdy guy” and was, like, totally into hiking, and “hey, just message me if you think I seem interesting,” being forgettable was just par for the course. But he chose me, and that was enough. I initiated the snail-mail private messaging. He responded to my elaborate greeting with a simple “Hi :),” which meant I was going to be forced to work at creating some semblance of conversation. We talked about laundry. And student loans. “The worst thing about graduating is your student loans kick in!” he messaged. “Ugh, God, loans. I don’t even want to begin to think about that.” Lies. In a sudden fit of shame, I felt the need to hide the fact that I was a middle-class


what I was doing, which was simply lounging on my bed in a dark dorm room and watching a movie with my roomie, and I risked actually making a joke, good God, and I prayed that he got it. See, male model Derek Zoolander always runs around telling everyone how “really, really, ridiculously good-looking” he is, so I said, “It’s the stupidest movie ever made, but it’s so ridiculously good (looking).” To which he responded, “Lol, you dork. But that’s ok, it’s cute. :)” And later, “lol I’m still laughing that you put good (looking).” I laughed for days. Which was weird, because it wasn’t even really that funny. Not his response, anyway. But the fact that I was online, actually talking with some boy who’d seen my dumb face and yet still wanted to tease me in a way I’d seen happen to pretty, bright-smiling girls around me my whole life ... that was absolutely laughable to me, but it also made me feel uneasy in a way I didn’t understand. Our conversation died after he responded to my explanation of the popularity of 2004’s “Mean Girls” with a

simple, “Hmm.. okay. :)” and I couldn’t, for the life of me, think of a reply to further the conversation. He’s since deleted his account. I never learned his name. I didn’t get it then, but I got it later. The twinge in my stomach I’d felt when shadows8 made his flirtatious jibe was the same unpleasant twist I’d felt when Travis said I seemed fun and Zack referred to me as his “dear” and Jason said he’d love to browse $1 CDs at a bookstore with a cute, smart girl. I felt momentarily gratified, and then I felt false. No one talks to me like that to my face. And if boys talked to me like that online, didn’t that mean that the girl on my profile, the one who lied and accepted compliments with ease, wasn’t me at all? She was like me, a more outgoing me who shared all the same interests and passions and cynicisms, but she also clung to dying conversations and was unerringly polite because she needed to work at maintaining who she was. Self-embodiment shouldn’t be a chore — it just is. I didn’t set out to be false, but false was what I became. I have no way of knowing if it’s true, but I imagine that OkCupid’s server is crammed with log after log of empty, lackluster conversations, hollow compliments and stomach-churning flirtations that all puttered to a stop like a dying engine. Maybe we’re all trying too hard because we want to see our dreamselves, our realistic but idealistic avatars, being accepted and wanted. That’s kind of sad, like tiny hearts popping out of existence as they escape a little Erlenmeyer flask. photo by stephanie parker

privileged girl whose parents had been saving money in a college fund from the year I was born. I didn’t have to think about debt. “Yeah, loans, ouch. :)” I was bored and uninspired, but I wanted to keep going. He was nice, and supposedly finding a “Nice Boy” is what it’s all about, and there was also the possibility that we were both just painfully awkward. I kept snorting in an amused, undignified way as our messaging went on even though it wasn’t funny, still strangely giddy to see the white envelope in a flashy pink square near the top of the screen that indicated shadows8 had replied. I kept waiting for something better, something exciting. Meanwhile, Billy Zane was flanking Zoolander at a club while he confronted his oh-so-hot-right-now male model rival, Hansel. “Don’t you know I’m loco?” my roommate and I both quoted with Owen Wilson before I ducked my head in laughter. The only part of my plodding conversation with shadows8 that made me laugh like that was when I explained

OkCupid is an internationally used site, which would explain why over 26,000 users were once online at 4 a.m. EST (on a weeknight). Yet finding stimulating conversation is a crapshoot.

Leah Driscoll is a senior journalism major and is the managing editor of 1847.

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Otterbein biochemistry major gives some “pro tips” to help you handle your hangover. ROBERT SZABO staff writer

How many times have you woken up after a long night out with friends wondering what was going through your head just a few hours ago? You’re a miserable wreck, and a few too many have led you to have a massive hangover. Dreading the day ahead, it seems like you will be unable to do anything besides lie around waiting for this to pass. The somewhat painful experience has lead to a cult-like following of many different techniques to cure the common hangover. The truth is, however, that all techniques strive to achieve one thing: replenish what was lost the night before. PRO TIP #1 Rehydration This may seem obvious, but you would be surprised how many people choose not to replenish themselves. Simply having a glass of water with every standard drink will most likely prevent any sort of hangover or unwanted pains. Ever wake up wishing you had the world’s biggest glass of ice water sitting next to you? Yeah, you’re completely dehydrated at this moment. Try to remember (if possible) how many drinks you had that night. Have around 6-8 ounces for every standard drink you had. Waking up in the middle of the night a few times is sometimes worth it. Don’t drink too fast or else you may find yourself replenishing a few times that night. Your best bet is to purchase

photos by kristen sapp

Sunday morning antidotes

In Poland, drinking pickle juice is a common remedy. Sauerkraut is just like pickle juice, containing moisture within. It is also good for stirring a few laughs. Not too many people forget someone bringing a can of sauerkraut to a party, trust me.

a sports drink such as Gatorade and sip slowly. This will not only replenish lost fluids, but also electrolytes and vitamin B6. PRO TIP #2 A multivitamin It doesn’t matter if it’s a Flintstones chewable or a LifeSource natural everything and its mother included, as long as there is a number greater than 100 percent for vitamin B6 and preferably B12, you’re good to go. A simple swallow of one of these before hitting the sack with some sort of liquid will greatly diminish the effects of the hangover. PRO TIP #3 Food Consumption of foods such as eggs, which contain cysteine, and water may be enough to replenish lost moisture and at least rehydrate the body, making a hangover shorter. A traditional hangover remedy in India is coconut water, the natural electrolytes of which will assist in rehydration of the body. PRO TIP #4 Pickle juice and sauerkraut Now, I’m not saying to bust each of these out at the next frat party as everyone’s leaving, but if you have it around, I can almost guarantee that you won’t regret it. Pickle juice is a great hangover remedy because it not only has water but also sodium, which helps the body to retain and absorb water, which in turn helps the hydration which is necessary for you to get over your hangover. It’s like a sports drink that most people don’t think about.

PRO TIP #5 The hair of the dog that bit you Sometimes, the morning is just so bad that one might think to indulge in a little more. If you’re choosing to go that route, why not try a Bloody Mary. While your blood is dealing with the new alcohol, it is ignoring the old. In the meantime, tomato juice and celery are full of vitamins.

Ethanol, what you typically ingest during one of these nights, has a dehydrating effect by causing increased urine production, which causes headaches, dry mouth and lethargy in most. Thus, many essential vitamins and minerals are lost. Another contributing factor is the presence of products from the breakdown of ethanol by liver enzymes. Ethanol is converted to acetaldehyde by the enzyme alcohol dehydrogenase, and then from acetaldehyde to acetic acid by the enzyme acetaldehyde dehydrogenase. Acetaldehyde is between 10 and 30 times more toxic than alcohol itself. Following these methods and understanding how they can help you next time you’re out may help you feel better than expected the next morning. Now, this list isn’t your grand excuse to binge drink the night before a big business meeting or a college exam, and there is a view that the hangover provides a useful, natural and intrinsic disincentive to excessive drinking. The most successful method I have ever used is simply not to partake in the events that evening and go home thinking about the next day ahead.

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Singing and smiling from the sidewalk Local preaching couple battles everything from failing health to financial hardship to stay dedicated to their calling. The story of how David and Denise Tripp met is a very unusual one. It begins in 1979 in Hemming Park, a trim, tree-lined splash of green in the skyscraper-packed city of Jacksonville, Fla. Denise and her friend Kristi had just finished up their shifts at a roadside fruit vendor and were heading toward the nearby bus station. As they walked, they tried to stay within the shadows cast by the towering trees and bushes surrounding the park. It was a hot May afternoon, and they were eager to go home and rest. Denise brushed a droplet of sweat from her tan forehead framed with a halo of short brown hair. Suddenly, they heard shouting. “Sounds like there’s a Jesus freak out there,” Denise said. She wasn’t worried, though. She was a devout Christian and had no reason to be afraid of an especially noisy preacher. They neared the corner. Denise thought she heard running coming from the other side, but the large bushes blocked her view. The two girls rounded the bend, and out of nowhere a maniclooking man toppled into them and shouted at the top of his lungs, “WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT CAPITAL PUNISHMENT?” Denise blinked, too afraid to even remember what capital punishment was, let alone how she felt about it. The tall man’s stony gaze demanded a response. “Um … it’s a good thing,” Denise said, hoping that answer would assuage him. As soon as she uttered those words, the man fired back, “YOU’RE GOING TO HELL!” Then he sped off down the sidewalk, shouting, preaching and condemning as if Judgment Day were right around the corner. Three weeks later, the two crossed paths a second time. Denise was once again waiting at the bus stop at Hemming Park. This time, she was alone. She sat in front of a babbling fountain, watching the sun’s wavy reflection in the water. Suddenly, she got a weird feeling,

photo provided by david and denise tripp

MIKE CIRELLI senior editor/senior writer

David has been preaching since he was 18 years old, and Denise started preaching with him not long after the two wed in 1979. as if someone were watching her. She turned around and saw the same tall man staring at her. He stood up, walked over and sat down next to her. “I saw you in a dream,” the man said. The color of his dark brown hair matched Denise’s almost perfectly. Denise had no idea how to respond to that. She glanced around and noticed a big, fluffy yellow handkerchief sticking out of the man’s pants pocket. She silently pulled it out, dipped it in the cool fountain and wiped his sweaty forehead. He looked at her like she was crazy. “Somehow I feel we’re supposed to be together,” Denise said. “You mean in marriage?” he responded. “Yes,” she said. “Tell me your name. Tell me your number. I gotta go pray about this,” he ordered. At this moment, Denise’s bus pulled up. She quickly whispered the information to the man and climbed aboard.

Denise’s premonition was correct: A little over a month later, David and Denise Tripp were married. Thirty-two years went by. David’s health deteriorated. He’s had surgery twice and has trouble breathing when he sleeps. His hip is weak and mandates the use of a cane. When he walks, he hobbles. He can only preach outside for so long before he needs to sit down — cops don’t let him put a chair on the sidewalk, this is permissible only during a parade — and preaching in the cold is out of the question. He’s exhausted all the time, and it’s not just because of his declining health. For years he worked at two jobs in 12-hour shifts, one as a roaming security guard, the other as a bagboy at Kroger, but in December 2011 David was laid off from his security post. The letter the company mailed to David cited “lack of suitable work to offer you at this time” as the reason. Denise’s health isn’t

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My mind says you’re young. My body says you’re tired. My heart says don’t listen to either one of them. Listen to God. David Tripp

I introduce myself, and they’re both exceedingly nice. Unprovoked, David delves right into his past. “Been doing open-air preaching 42 years. Started out at 18 years old, 1971. I got with the Jesus people — Christian hippies. We were in some big, big events, especially Richard Nixon’s impeachment.” He pushes his glasses into place with his long fingers. “What I saw made me sick.” Denise took over after this. She explains how they met each other that day in Florida, 819 miles from where they now stand. “I told my mom we were getting married,” Denise recalls. “She drops her coffee cup and says, ‘No, you’re not.’ Six weeks later, we were married. And we’ve been married 32 years. The Lord just went BANG. Didn’t propose or nothing. My brothers and my mom just took David right in.” She shifts her gaze to David. “But he’s been there when my brothers got married, when our nieces and nephews have been born.” And then she says, with a very loving tone, “He’s been a part of everything.” The clock strikes noon, and the streets of Otterbein’s campus fill with

photo by mike cirelli

in such bad shape, but she too admits that throughout the years, the open-air preaching they do at colleges and high schools has become more difficult. Red and orange leaves spiral to the ground on the Otterbein campus. A bright blue sky hangs above the deserted Campus Center. It’s 11:15 a.m., 45 minutes before the campus erupts into activity, with students making their daily exodus from dorm to class, or vice versa. But for now, it’s quiet enough to hear a faint breeze whisper past your ears. David, tall, gray-haired and a tad on the heavier side, is wearing a bright blue shirt that quotes, in thick capital letters, a verse from Revelation: “FEAR GOD AND GIVE GLORY TO HIM.” He wears a watch and carries a book of hymns. Denise, her ever-present smile plastered on her face, has a sandwich board strapped on her shoulders. “YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO TO HELL” hovers above a poorly animated flame, and then, “… says the Lord Jesus!” Her short black hair is tucked behind her ears, and a pair of squinty eyes peer out from behind her thin-rimmed glasses.

David and Denise have traveled to 230 universities in 15 states, the farthest being Colorado. They also started preaching at nearby high schools in the past year.

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students. David and Denise start the day’s work. She stands, sandwich board astride, and smiles her signature smile. He cracks open the old, brown hymnal book and, without a trace of inhibition, starts belting out centuries-old church chorales in the middle of the sidewalk. Students stare; most keep walking. A couple students strike silly poses around the preachers while another student takes photos. Denise keeps right on smiling, David keeps right on singing. David bursts out in song again, this time at an old folks’ home. He and Denise have come here once a week for the past six years to minister to the elderly. The only times they don’t go are when the weather holds them up, they’re sick or they just don’t have the gas for their car. Denise is looking stately as usual, with a bright blue dress, a necklace of pearls, black flats and pantyhose. David is dressed in his typical black and gray apparel. His singing fills the little room we’re in, most likely a cafeteria. Four residents sit at the long tables adorned with vases of flowers. A counter with a coffee machine sits in the back. On the wall, a notice reads, “THE YEAR IS 2011. THE MONTH IS NOVEMBER. TODAY IS WEDNESDAY. THE DATE IS 9TH. THE WEATHER TODAY IS RAINY.” Other than David’s voice, only the occasional footsteps in the hall can be heard. David’s singing is heartfelt, but clearly not professionally trained in the slightest. His vibrato is lousy, his pitch is way off, his performance is overbearing and uncomfortable. “Now I’ll pep it up a little bit,” he says before trying, unsuccessfully, to go up an octave. The old folks, six total, watch quietly and attentively. One of the women idly adjusts the placemat under one of the flower vases. He finishes. No applause, just blank gazes, some directed to the window. Rain streaks down the glass. “I’m old, but I’m young ’cause my mind says you’re young,” David says. “My body says you’re tired. My heart says don’t listen to either one of them. Listen to God.” Denise stands up. “You want me to get you some, David?” “Yes, if you will, coffee.” (Continued on page 23)


The street preachers share a small apartment on the east side of Columbus. When they aren’t busy preaching or when David’s not working, the two like to watch a title from their large collection of movies, read their Bibles together and post on Facebook.

photo by mike cirelli


David and Denise don’t see their families very often. David’s son from his first marriage, Anthony, tries to take them out about once a month, but long hours at work give him little time to do anything but sleep. David’s brother, Melvin, lives with his partner in another state. David doesn’t hate his brother for being gay; neither he nor Denise have any hatred for anyone, including all gay people, though he does think homosexuality is sinful. “Hate the sin, not the sinner,” became David’s mantra. Neither David or Denise agree with Lady Gaga’s recent theology on the subject. (They were not born that way, David said, but they became that way through their environment and experiences.) You’ll never catch either of them wearing a “GOD HATES FAGS” sandwich board a la the Westboro Baptist Church, however. Both David and Denise have stated, forcibly, that they think the WBC’s methods are wrong and they’re making all open-air preachers look bad. They hate the fact that Otterbein students have compared them to the WBC simply because they wear sandwich boards.

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photo by mike cirelli

After Denise finishes up, we leave the nursing home. Puddles in the parking lot ripple with raindrops. The sky is white and gray and cloudy. David limps to his car with his cane, coughing as he goes. He loses his breath in the short trip to the car. He says he started using the cane four months ago. His doctor told him he’s going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life unless he gets hip replacement surgery in his right leg. “It’s just bone grinding bone now,” he says. “That’s why I don’t stand three-four hours on campus anymore.” David refuses to admit himself to a nursing home because he doesn’t want to leave Denise alone. He tells her she wouldn’t be able to pay the bills on her own. They gently place their Bibles in the trunk of their dark green sedan. Three bumper stickers adorn the back of their car: One an American flag, the second a 2008 McCain endorsement, half of which is ripped off, and the third advertising Calvary Chapel, their nondenominational church.

Three Otterbein students strike poses next to David as he preaches on the sidewalk in front of the Campus Center. He said that while college students can become pretty rowdy while he and Denise preach, high school students are usually even more aggressive.

David and Denise lost their first child during pregnancy and decided to give up on having children together after several other miscarriages. One day, about a year after the first miscarriage, David came home with an 8-week-old kitten. “Joshua,” Denise says with tidy pronunciation and affection. “It was perfectly marked. It had four white feet. If you put Josh in the sunlight, you could go ahead and see stripes on him.” Denise sits barefoot on the couch in her and David’s Columbus apartment. David sits next to her wearing a blue shirt with the word JESUS stamped across the front, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “He was a great companion,” Denise says. “Very much so … very much so.” Denise rapturously expounds on the cat the way parents talk about their kids, with bursts of pride and compassion lighting up each syllable she speaks. She tells me of Joshua’s on-again-offagain relationship with a cat who lived nearby, a “beautiful white female” with “glittery blue eyes.” She details his exact

dimensions (21 pounds, 21 inches long, 15 inches tall), the way he seemed to be genuinely concerned when David and Denise were sick and his apparent ability to only grant Christians entrance into the apartment. But it is David’s responses that are more interesting. He remains uncharacteristically silent save the occasional sigh or whispered remark of affirmation. Every few minutes he quietly says, “He was a different kind of cat” — the same comment every time, never elaborating on the statement, but sounding more and more despondent each time he says it. The cat lived an unusually long life at 18 years. They never took in another pet because Denise became allergic to the hair. “One of these days I’m going to get a cat again,” David says weakly. Denise laughs affectionately and says, “He still thinks about that cat and he’ll start crying.” Mike Cirelli is a junior journalism major and is the senior editor/senior writer for 1847.


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From the field to the community

Otterbein baseball player Dom Porretta volunteers his time, talent and friendship.

photo by ed syguda

JON HOLBROOK staff writer

“Dom!” The drab, winter afternoon is pierced with the excited voices of some of Dom Porretta’s biggest fans as they jump out of their seats and run over to give him hugs. All of the seven college-aged students in the room have huge smiles on their faces as Porretta walks in. Porretta happens to be a baseball player, but that’s not why he’s so popular. His heart for the disabled and the friendships he has developed with them have given him a celebrity-like status in this room Porretta is a 20-year-old journalism major in his junior year at Otterbein University. He also plays on the baseball team, works with a 19-year-old autistic student and volunteers at the Alternative Center, a place for disabled people to continue their education. His father is a professor of adaptive physical education at Ohio State, meaning Porretta has been going to all the wheelchair basketball games and Special Olympics from a young age.

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On his second trip of the week to the fall, Ryan’s mother contacted Porretta and second-story room of Heritage Church asked if he would like to become Ryan’s in Westerville, Porretta has brought along care provider. two of his baseball teammates to join him “Being a care provider for Ryan in volunteering. They will spend the next basically entailed just being a friend, being hour or so hanging out with post-high a buddy,” Porretta said. “We go do typical school men and women who are disabled. guy things. We go to sports games, we go Though it could be labeled “volunteer shoot hoops, work out. We’re friends so it work,” the work seems to come naturally wouldn’t be like it’s any skin off my back.” to these three young men. High fiving, The county Ryan lived in started paying laughing and even wrestling each other, Porretta for the time he spent with Ryan, they seem to be best friends with all taking him to social events and other seven students who are at the Alternative things that Ryan enjoys. Porretta has Center today. But how did all of this had the job, and more importantly, the start? friendship, for the past three years. In a home economics class his senior “Though I had been around (disabled year of high school, Porretta met an people), I had never truly gotten that underclassman autistic student named interactive relationship and friendship Ryan who needed a partner for the class. that I developed with Ryan,” Porretta Porretta willingly joined up with the boy said. “Through Ryan is how I got involved without being You walk through the door and their face asked and lights up. You’re making a difference in their started to develop a life just being there. friendship with him. The next

Dom Porretta


photo provided by dom porretta

Porretta (right) pitches for the Miracle League that Ryan (left) plays in. Here, Ryan clutches his trophy on championship day.

photo by kristen sapp

with Miracle League Baseball and the Alternative Center.” Connie Warner started the Alternative Center and runs it with her fellow instructor Carol Peifer. They provide an educational environment for any of the disabled who choose to get involved. In Warner’s own words, the Alternative Center is “a place for people with disabilities to come and be accepted for who and what they are.” The Alternative Center is important because it provides invaluable opportunities for people with disabilities who have already graduated high school and are no longer in any type of educational or social environment. “Graduation for them means being at home,” Warner said. The students at the Alternative Center work on all kinds of educational subjects to become well rounded. They read stories and complete word searches to improve literacy or work on math problems to keep their arithmetic skills sharp. When Porretta visits, he sits down and gives oneon-one help to them for whatever they are currently working on. Being on the baseball team and actively volunteering, Porretta thought it would be a good idea to try and get the whole Otterbein baseball team involved with the Alternative Center. The guys caught onto the idea and have all become volunteers. No previous training or experience is required of them, only the willingness to make a few new friends. “These guys absolutely love it. They’re always asking, ‘When are the Otterbein guys coming?’” Warner said. “Dom and the guys have just been wonderful.” Porretta said, “The guys come back saying, ‘That was the best experience I’ve ever had. When are we doing it again?’ You go each week to help those people, and it comes back rewarding you more than you could ever imagine.” For Porretta, the benefits of volunteering are obvious. “You walk through the door and their face lights up. They get a big smile, come over and give you a big hug and jump right into a conversation. You’re making a difference in their life one way or another, even just being there,” he said. All of the faces are still bright with smiles as it comes time for the Alternative Center to adjourn for the day. It is apparent the presence of Porretta and the guys have made a big impact on the students today, if only to widen the smiles on their faces.

At the Alternative Center, Porretta (second from right) engages in a friendly game of Outburst.

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These people look smart, right?

It’s because they read the

&

tan cardinal

WOBN is Otterbein’s student-run radio station. It has the latest in alternative rock, along with Otterbein sports and some great shows! But don’t take our word for it, listen in every day at 97.5 FM on the dial, or wobn.net!


Best

sports photos of 2011

Creative Director Kristen Sapp looks back on her favorite sports shots.

I tried to capture the emotions involved in the game, as well as some non-action artistic shots. It forced me to pay closer attention to what was going on around me and what was happening when there wasn’t a play in action.

My goal going into every soccer game was to photograph someone heading the ball. Seemed easy, but for me it was the most challenging part of soccer to capture on camera. I was able to get a photo of it not once, but twice in 2011.

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Volleyball players love cheering after every point. Some people don’t understand it, but it made for some great photo opportunities and captured the team’s unity. I now know the reason behind this is because volleyball is very much a mental game and it keeps their spirits up, and in turn, they play better.

This is my favorite non-action shot I took during 2011. It was taken before the start of the homecoming game, and out of the hundreds of photos I took that day, this is the photo that really showed what that day was all about.

I had to stand by the dugout of the visiting team, Muskingum University, in order to take this shot. It was sort of weird standing on the other side of the field. A few Muskingum fans thought I was taking pictures for their team instead.

Shooting basketball was difficult because the lighting in the Rike Center was not ideal for taking photographs. There was also so much action involved in the sport that it was difficult to get good shots that weren’t blurry or the ball wasn’t at their feet. This shot not only froze the action, but it captured the emotion on the player’s face.

In April 2011, I took lacrosse photos for the first time. I knew nothing about the sport, which made me nervous about photographing it. I had nothing to be worried about, though. I was able to capture this photo, which is my favorite action shot I have taken.

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1847 Magazine 2012  

You're looking at the first ever edition of Otterbein's only student media run magazine 1847. Students spent their J-Term creating the magaz...

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