Cindy Hval

Imagine English isn’t your first language. Words and jokes fly past you in a blur and you’re only able to understand a portion of them. Then imagine you can’t even hear the words being spoken. That’s what Kristina Laptiv has dealt with for much of her life.

In gradeschool, Nadija Fiechtner began experiencing debilitating migraines. The pain was so intense all she could do was lie still in a darkened room. Eventually, she withdrew from school altogether and tried to keep up via home schooling, but even then constant headaches interfered with learning. “I didn’t have any credits from sixth, seventh or eighth grades,” she said.

She’s attained the rank of major and wears her uniform with pride, but Emma Phillips isn’t in the military – she’s in marching band. As one of two drum majors for Mead’s marching band, Phillips carries a lot of responsibilities on her shoulders. Band director Rob Lewis said, “A drum major is the leader on the podium that keeps the band glued together, but 90 percent of their job exists in times where people don’t ever see it.”

Joey Kershinar’s road to graduation has been a bit rougher than most, but the journey has left him with a profound appreciation for big things like faith and family, as well as little things like the ability to smile. “When I was 4, I was diagnosed with a brain tumor about the size of my fist,” he said.

To prep football fans Dakota Hipes is a familiar name. The Mt. Spokane running back accrued rushing yards, scored touchdowns and was regularly featured in the newspaper’s sports pages. What fans may not know is the resiliency, heart and determination Hipes demonstrated on the football field was forged in the fires of a tumultuous home life.

Chelsea Tremblay’s world changed forever during her junior year of high school. Her father went to the doctor to have a bump on his stomach examined. “He thought it might be a hernia,” she recalled.

Louis Kirschbaum had his eye on his future wife long before she acknowledged his existence. “She was best friends with my sister, Helen,” he said.

The world lost another hero when George “Bud” Garvin passed away on April 15. But like so many who served in World War ll, Garvin shunned the label. “I’m no hero,” he’d say.

Growing up with four brothers meant tea parties were few and far between for Meghan Long. So being surrounded by little girls dressed as princesses at the Spokane Lilac Festival Association Royal Tea Party last month was especially delightful. The Ferris senior was crowned Lilac Queen on Jan. 25.

Brow furrowed I flipped the map sideways, then upside down. “I think we turn left at Canada,” I announced. “Or maybe right.” Since we were on our way to Disneyland and were just outside of Bend, Oregon, my husband was not amused. “Gimme the map,” he said.

Clean running water, a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste – a daily ritual most of us take for granted. Not Spokane dentist T.J. Scarborough. For the past several years, Scarborough and a dentist friend from college have traveled to the Dominican Republican to offer free dental care to those in need. It turns out most everyone in the Dominican Republic is in need – especially children and plantation workers.

A rainbow of brightly hued eggs peeked from the drab gray carton. It wouldn’t have been Easter weekend without colored eggs, jellybeans and new shirts for the boys to wear to church. At 15 and 20, Sam and Zack gamely did their part to keep our Easter tradition alive, though coloring eggs no longer rates very high on their “fun things to do” lists.

The Lake City will be blanketed in blues this weekend during the sixth annual Coeur d’Alene Blues Festival. Drawing blues fans and musicians from across the country, the event offers music from the middle of Lake Coeur d’Alene to the rooftop of the Coeur d’Alene Resort.

Max doesn’t look much like a hero. The 8-year-old border collie/blue heeler mix curled up under Robyn Moug’s desk at U.S. HealthWorks in north Spokane, closed his brown eyes and prepared to nap. But Max is a search and rescue dog, certified in both cadaver and live search, and he and Moug were a valuable, if not heroic, part of rescue efforts during last year’s mudslide near Oso, Washington.

Three years ago, Spokane residents Joel and Jackie Wells launched a product designed to change elementary education in Malawi, a tiny landlocked country in southeast Africa. The product was PAL – Portable Academic LapDesk – a 26-by-15  3/4-inch, lightweight, waterproof desk. Brightly colored graphics on both sides of the reversible desk feature the alphabet, a ruler, a multiplication table, shapes, colors and a world map among other teaching tools.

Conference calls are a necessary evil when you live in the Northwest and write for clients on the East Coast. There’s simply no other way to plan upcoming projects in an efficient and timely manner. And I blame time for the embarrassing experience I endured last week during a scheduled call.

Hungry kids streamed through the doors at Shiloh Hills Elementary School on Friday morning. In addition to a healthy breakfast of pancakes and scrambled eggs, another treat awaited – the students were greeted by athletes from Gonzaga University. Friday was the final day of National Breakfast Week and athletes from GU’s rowing, soccer, volleyball, tennis and track and field teams were there as breakfast ambassadors.

Like a puzzle missing several pieces, Jeannie Barber, 64, always knew her family was incomplete. Last month she discovered many of those missing pieces right here in the Inland Northwest.

In 1941, the Army Air Force sent John Benadom to Kinman Business University to learn to type. He planned to muddle through the class so he could go on to be trained as a teletype operator. What he didn’t know was that on the first night of class, he would meet the love of his life. The instructor had the new group of students take a basic typing test. John scored minus 10 words per minute because he had so many errors. However, one young lady scored a whopping 70 wpm. John turned around in his seat to see who had such fast fingers. Later he recalled, “She was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.”

Wincing, I gingerly rested my sore arm on the table as I ate the Chinese takeout my thoughtful husband had brought home for dinner. He knew I’d be in no state to cook anything when I returned from the mall. “What happened?” he asked, as I rubbed by left arm.

You can’t exactly call them high-school sweethearts, since they only had a handful of dates during their senior year at Central Valley High School – but those dates left an impression that lingered through the decades. Terri Reavis has never forgotten the first time she saw Mick Jackson. It was 1974 and she walked past a trophy case protected by a steel rail. “The Rail” was where the “cool jocks” congregated and checked out the girls, Reavis said.