Mount Massive Lakes partners with Healing Waters Fly Fishing for our sixth annual outing with our wounded warriors. A big thank you to Jim and Anne Tims for organizing the event and for all the member volunteers and staff that helped with the fishing, food, friendship and photography. A great day was had by all!
Reeling and Healing
By MARK YOST Aug. 15, 2012 3:02 p.m. ET Spruce Creek, Pa. The stretch of Spruce Creek that runs about 20 miles south of State College, Pa., is often called the "River of Presidents." Dwight Eisenhower fished here; Jimmy Carter still does. So do many CEOs and ballplayers who can afford the five-figure initiation fees and four-figure annual dues at some of the exclusive fly-fishing clubs. But for a few days earlier this month, Spruce Creek became the "River of Heroes." That's when Homewaters, one of those private clubs, hosted Project Healing Waters, a unique program that brings disabled vets to some of the most magnificent fly-fishing spots in the country. Healing Waters is the brainchild of Ed Nicholson, who spent 30 years in the Navy as a Surface Warfare Officer before working a decade more as a defense contractor. In 2005, at the height of the carnage in Iraq, he was at Walter Reed and saw the soldiers and sailors hobbling around on crutches and struggling through rehab, and thought, "I should take a couple of these guys fishing with me." |
June 3rd, 2016
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Seven years later, Healing Waters is a 501(c)3 nonprofit that has 130 branches nationwide. Although it is not an official program of the Veterans Administration, Mr. Nicholson's staff, many of whom are former Healing Waters participants, runs the program through local VA centers. The program is open to any disabled vet, not just those from Iraq and Afghanistan. All expenses are paid. The vets don't even need a fly rod.
And while Healing Waters wasn't designed as a mental-health program and there are no counselors on the trips, the very nature of fly fishing—the serenity, the simple routine of fly casting—makes it all very therapeutic.
"When we started this, I thought it would just be great to take some of these guys fishing," Mr. Nicholson said. "But I can't tell you the number of times someone has come up to me and said: 'Thank you. This program saved my life.'"
That's because Healing Waters is about much more than a few days of fishing. Yes, there are a dozen or so national trips, which this year included treks to Maine, Alaska and Yellowstone. But most of the work is done locally, with monthly fly-tying and casting workshops taught by volunteers and local excursions.
"For many of these guys, fly fishing has become a tool of recovery, both mentally and physically," Mr. Nicholson said.
One example of the whole circle-of-life nature of Healing Waters is David Folkerts. Originally from Nebraska, he joined the Army National Guard to help pay for college. He was commissioned in 2004 as an Engineering Officer and went to Ranger School before being deployed to Iraq. He was there just a month before he suffered severe nerve damage in an IED explosion that paralyzed his left hand. During his stay at Walter Reed, "I went through depression, anger and, didn't know it then, but PTSD. I found Project Healing Waters and that was a big part of me getting through it."
His first trip was on the Connetquot River on Long Island with a group of cadets from West Point. It was there that he discovered what he calls "nature's therapy."
"Being around the other guys and gals was therapeutic for me," said Mr. Folkerts, 32, who today is Healing Waters' operations manager. "They all had similar stories, similar experiences. It was the camaraderie I had in the service but didn't find in civilian life."
Another former Healing Waters participant-turned-staffer is David Hall, a disabled Vietnam-era vet who came on a trip three years ago and is now the Healing Waters coordinator at the McGuire VA Medical Center in Richmond, Va. "This program is the best thing that ever happened to me," Mr. Hall said. On a recent Tuesday afternoon, he and about a dozen other disabled vets were standing waist-deep in the limestone-fed waters that make Spruce Creek ideal for trout breeding. While many showed physical scars, most didn't seem to have a care in the world as world-class guides gave them tips on casting and tying flies.
"It allows these guys to unplug from the daily grind of trying to recover," Mr. Nicholson said. "They don't come here to think about their problems and how they're going to overcome them. They come here not to think. It gives them margins in their life again."
Donny Beaver, the owner of Homewaters, which usually caters to Pittsburgh Steelers and successful alumni from nearby Penn State, very much looks at Healing Waters as a way for him to give back. "I didn't serve," he said. "In 1970 my draft number was 127 and they went up to 125." Mr. Beaver was the first outfitter to host a Healing Waters group seven years ago. He keeps a stack of thank-you notes on his desk from past participants to remind him that "those who didn't serve often take a lot for granted."
Healing Waters does its own fundraising, has corporate sponsors, and partners with groups like the Sierra Club and Trout Unlimited, but it also relies very much on the generosity of outfitters like Mr. Beaver. He not only provides free lodging and guides for the troops but hosts fundraisers. At the end of the outing here, Mr. Beaver presented the group with a check for $12,500, bringing his total fundraising to more than $100,000.
After a group photo, many of the vets walked up, tears in their eyes, to hug Mr. Beaver and say "thank you."
Mr. Nicholson, who is going to Scotland later this month to scout locations, said he gets as many thank yous from spouses as he does from vets. "Wives come up to me and say, 'Thank you for giving me my husband back.'"
Mr. Nicholson is now thinking about trips for family members. "They're often more traumatized than the vets themselves," he said. "I think a few days fishing could help them, too."
Mr. Yost is a writer in Chicago.
And while Healing Waters wasn't designed as a mental-health program and there are no counselors on the trips, the very nature of fly fishing—the serenity, the simple routine of fly casting—makes it all very therapeutic.
"When we started this, I thought it would just be great to take some of these guys fishing," Mr. Nicholson said. "But I can't tell you the number of times someone has come up to me and said: 'Thank you. This program saved my life.'"
That's because Healing Waters is about much more than a few days of fishing. Yes, there are a dozen or so national trips, which this year included treks to Maine, Alaska and Yellowstone. But most of the work is done locally, with monthly fly-tying and casting workshops taught by volunteers and local excursions.
"For many of these guys, fly fishing has become a tool of recovery, both mentally and physically," Mr. Nicholson said.
One example of the whole circle-of-life nature of Healing Waters is David Folkerts. Originally from Nebraska, he joined the Army National Guard to help pay for college. He was commissioned in 2004 as an Engineering Officer and went to Ranger School before being deployed to Iraq. He was there just a month before he suffered severe nerve damage in an IED explosion that paralyzed his left hand. During his stay at Walter Reed, "I went through depression, anger and, didn't know it then, but PTSD. I found Project Healing Waters and that was a big part of me getting through it."
His first trip was on the Connetquot River on Long Island with a group of cadets from West Point. It was there that he discovered what he calls "nature's therapy."
"Being around the other guys and gals was therapeutic for me," said Mr. Folkerts, 32, who today is Healing Waters' operations manager. "They all had similar stories, similar experiences. It was the camaraderie I had in the service but didn't find in civilian life."
Another former Healing Waters participant-turned-staffer is David Hall, a disabled Vietnam-era vet who came on a trip three years ago and is now the Healing Waters coordinator at the McGuire VA Medical Center in Richmond, Va. "This program is the best thing that ever happened to me," Mr. Hall said. On a recent Tuesday afternoon, he and about a dozen other disabled vets were standing waist-deep in the limestone-fed waters that make Spruce Creek ideal for trout breeding. While many showed physical scars, most didn't seem to have a care in the world as world-class guides gave them tips on casting and tying flies.
"It allows these guys to unplug from the daily grind of trying to recover," Mr. Nicholson said. "They don't come here to think about their problems and how they're going to overcome them. They come here not to think. It gives them margins in their life again."
Donny Beaver, the owner of Homewaters, which usually caters to Pittsburgh Steelers and successful alumni from nearby Penn State, very much looks at Healing Waters as a way for him to give back. "I didn't serve," he said. "In 1970 my draft number was 127 and they went up to 125." Mr. Beaver was the first outfitter to host a Healing Waters group seven years ago. He keeps a stack of thank-you notes on his desk from past participants to remind him that "those who didn't serve often take a lot for granted."
Healing Waters does its own fundraising, has corporate sponsors, and partners with groups like the Sierra Club and Trout Unlimited, but it also relies very much on the generosity of outfitters like Mr. Beaver. He not only provides free lodging and guides for the troops but hosts fundraisers. At the end of the outing here, Mr. Beaver presented the group with a check for $12,500, bringing his total fundraising to more than $100,000.
After a group photo, many of the vets walked up, tears in their eyes, to hug Mr. Beaver and say "thank you."
Mr. Nicholson, who is going to Scotland later this month to scout locations, said he gets as many thank yous from spouses as he does from vets. "Wives come up to me and say, 'Thank you for giving me my husband back.'"
Mr. Nicholson is now thinking about trips for family members. "They're often more traumatized than the vets themselves," he said. "I think a few days fishing could help them, too."
Mr. Yost is a writer in Chicago.
