StoryHook Archives - Page 6 of 7

Kay Orr

By Asha Timperley

When Kay Orr was elected as Nebraska’s governor in 1986, it was big news.

She was Nebraska’s first female governor and the first-ever Republican female to be elected to the position in the history of the United States.

Her four years as governor were historic, but also years marked with landmark decisions and ample criticism, ending in a closely contested election in which Governor Orr narrowly lost to her democratic opponent.

But we’re not going to make this story a history lesson, because Kay’s story is about more than her years as Governor Orr.

Long before Kay was governor, she was a daughter, sister, wife and mother.

Kay grew up in Burlington, Iowa, as the youngest of four children. Many of her family members were farmers and her father served on the local city council.

She remembers being taught to know and understand the principles of the founding fathers, to respect adults and guard her tongue. It was a time in America’s history in which these values were part of every family, not just hers, and patriotism ran deep.

“We played kick the can and hide and seek,” she said. “I don’t want it to sound idyllic, but life was just simpler.”

It wasn’t perfect, Kay said, but the time and way in which she was raised shaped her worldview.

“We talked more about the virtues of life as opposed to the values – values change, but virtues don’t,” she said.

For Kay, being a woman of virtue started in her home. She and her husband, Bill, prioritized raising their two children in a way that honored their beliefs and garnered the character that was bolstered by their faith in God.

As her children grew older, Kay saw political involvement as a way to contribute to her family, neighborhood and city. She addressed envelopes and knocked on doors, making sure citizens were well-informed before going to the polls.

Kay laughed at the fact that her son and daughter were proudly pounding campaign signs into yards not long after they learned to walk. It became a family affair.

Today, Kay’s son, John Orr, is the Washington County GOP Chair and her daughter, Suzanne Gage, is the Director of Communications for Nebraska’s attorney general.

But while Kay was knee-deep in the political sphere, she said it was never her lifelong dream to become governor. She set out to be a volunteer and a voice, but as the years passed her experience and knowledge in the field grew.

Kay served as Chief of Staff to Governor Charlie Thone and was appointed as the State Treasurer. She had a wealth of experience that guided her to run for governor, but Kay also had a firm grasp on her personal and political virtues.

She didn’t want to be a politician – to her, that word had too many negative connotations linked to wishy-washy views – she wanted to couple her experience and abilities and apply them to public policy.

Yes, Kay’s governorship was historic. She has an endless number of fascinating stories about her years in office, and pictures to go with nearly every memory.

Her basement walls are lined with photos and newspaper clippings, dedicated to her time in office – strolling through the White House Rose Garden with George H. W. Bush, laughing with Ronald Reagan, sitting at a table with Margaret Thatcher.

But looking at the collection of pictures you start to notice a pattern – her family. Kay’s husband, children, and grandchildren were an intentional part of her photos and memories.

“Being a wife, mother and grandma is the greatest role in this life – it’s the best,” Kay said.

If she had to pick between her family and a political career she said she’d pick her family, no contest. Kay was a wife, mother and grandmother first and a governor second.

Kay took her job as governor very seriously. She fought to defend her decisions and beliefs and wasn’t one to keep her opinions to herself, but she also knew her career was temporary and it had boundaries. She wasn’t willing to compromise her family life, and she set that precedent early on.

When her first grandson was born, Kay wanted to be an on-call babysitter and even put a cradle next to her and Bill’s bed at the governor’s mansion. When her children pursued their own political interests, she was willing and ready with support and advice.

At 77 years old, Kay is still as sharp and feisty as ever – she sticks to her guns and loves her family, she wants what’s best for America and calls it like she sees it.

People often ask her to reflect on her governorship and talk about any regrets, but that’s not Kay’s style. She’s proud of her administration and stands behind her decisions. She doesn’t live in the past or base her worth on the comments of others.

Instead, Kay referenced a framed quotation in her kitchen that sums up how she lives each day, it reads, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. – Proverbs 3:5-6″

Kay is a woman who has known and owned her story for much of her life. She’s confident in her beliefs and unwavering in her virtues, and to her, that’s what matters.

March 9, 2016

Love4

Jill Liliedahl

By Asha Timperley

Jill Liliedahl is a self-professed crazy dog lady. We’re talking the, she and her husband made a Facebook for their dog caliber of crazy dog lady.

Which is why it makes perfect sense that she’s the CEO of SitStay – an online marketplace for dog supplies.

But working at SitStay wasn’t part of Jill’s plan, mostly, because a lot of her story is about changing plans, trying new things and finding her place.

In college, Jill was a political science major who didn’t want to go into politics. She went down the social work track and then on to earn a graduate degree in sociology. She’s lived on the east coast, dove in to the nonprofit world and moved back to Lincoln. She took a job that exposed her to the startup scene and then ended up launching a premium popsicle business. Now, she’s at SitStay.

These are just the highlights, but you get the idea – Jill has had a lot of jobs.

It’s not because she’s flakey or indecisive, actually it’s the exact opposite – Jill is crazy smart. She has a high capacity for learning and trying new things, but this has also been a challenge for her. She’s interested in so many things, that picking one seemed incredibly difficult.

But more than her litany of jobs, what’s held Jill’s story together is her family and her community.

Jill grew up in Hastings, Nebraska, a town less than two hours west of Lincoln. As a kid, she watched her mom open her own fabric store. Jill thought the shop was just another cool place to hang out, but as she got older, she realized that not everyone gets to watch their mom start something.

Sure, it wasn’t some techy, hard-hitting business, but it was her mom’s way of meeting a need in their community and Jill was proud of that.

So, when Jill started her speciality popsicle business her mom and dad jumped right in. Their phrase was, “Let us know what you need!” and they meant it.

Sure, it may have been just popsicles, but that didn’t keep them from spending every summer Saturday at the Farmer’s Market with Jill. Her family became her go-to taste testers, sales team and chief marketing officers – they knew the startup world because they’d been there.

And while Jill loved what she did, and her family understood, she realized that running a business – whether it’s popsicles or dog supplies – can be isolating. Her schedule, interests and frustrations felt unique, and yet she wondered if there were more people out there with similar struggles. It was hard because Jill felt like she’d found her place, she was building a company and using her wide range of skills, but something was missing.

Jill shared this with her friend, Amber Pankonin, and in 2013 they started a group called Ladies Launch Lincoln as a way to connect with female entrepreneurs. They were shocked at the number of women (and men) who showed up to talk shop, get advice and share their latest ideas.

The group became Jill’s safe place. It was where she received tangible advice, but also where she saw her story more clearly.

She realized that a roundabout academic and job history was pretty common in the startup world, and it didn’t matter that she was a former poli-sci major or wasn’t necessarily putting her Master’s degree to work every day.

Perfect planning, while tidy and helpful, hasn’t propelled Jill. Instead, it’s been the love and support of her family and an amazing community.

Jill’s story can be confusing because of her long list of loosely connected jobs, but it’s also extremely simple. It’s about pursuing what she loves, being content in the unknown and pushing forward, knowing full well that sometimes no plan is the best plan.

February 24, 2016

Love5

Jason and Cindy Nabb

By Asha Timperley

There’s something about the Nabb’s house that just feels like home.

Maybe it’s the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the toddler teetering around with an orange in her hand, the two kiddos sitting at the dining room table working on their school work or the morning sunlight filtering into the living room where we sat and chatted.

By the end of our time together, I knew what made their home feel so welcoming – love. Now, before you jump to any conclusions or start asking about what philosophical kind of love I’m talking about, just read this story.

Jason and Cindy Nabb have been married for nearly 17 years. They have eight children ranging in age from 18 to almost 2 years old. But Jason and Cindy don’t have a typical love story, and certainly not a love story that they thought would lead them to where they are now.

“She was dating one of my friends when I met her,” said Jason, he and Cindy looked at each other and laughed.

That’s basically how their story went. They were two dysfunctional youngsters who had an extremely broken and dysfunctional relationship.

Their early love history had a weird pattern. Date, get engaged, break up, drink, date, break up, drink some more, don’t talk, get pregnant with somebody else, just friends, don’t talk.

Cindy said on the day they were supposed to get married (the first time) they met up and got coffee in Lincoln before she traveled to Minneapolis and Jason moved to Tulsa. They literally couldn’t have been going in more opposite directions.

But then Cindy gave birth to her baby, Olivia, and called Jason to tell him she had become a mommy. He got the message after he’d been at a Super Bowl party and thought to himself, ‘What am I doing?!’

The next year, on their would-have-been one-year anniversary, Jason asked Cindy to marry him in front of their entire church in Lincoln.

A year later, Jason started the paperwork to adopt Olivia.

As Jason and Cindy told their story, I watched as their daughter Ashley sat quietly and listened. It didn’t look like the first time she’d heard this story, because she kept smiling, looking as if she was glad she knew the way the roller coaster of a tale would end.

But getting married wasn’t the end of Jason and Cindy’s love story. If anything it was the beginning. They went on to have five more biological children – Simon, Isaac, Meredith, Ashley and Sam – and a few weeks ago they adopted two more children from foster care.

The Nabbs have a full house, and you don’t even want to know their monthly grocery budget. Cindy said a lot of people who don’t know them look at her like she’s crazy to have this many children, but the people who know them understand that it just makes sense because they know Jason and Cindy.

When they bought their current house, they knew they wanted it to be a place they shared with others. Sure, they had a big family, but they also had extra room.

They opened up their basement to a single mom and her daughter who stayed with them for a season. It was a sad, difficult and messy situation, but it didn’t scare them out of serving.

“We want our kids to know that there’s a sacrifice that comes with serving,” Jason said. “There are people who need help and they’re worth sacrificing for.”

This is when the Nabbs seriously started considering foster care.

“Especially coming from the backgrounds that we have…we feel so redeemed,” Cindy said. “Why wouldn’t we want to give that to someone else in return?”

After going through the process of getting licensed, the Nabbs received lots of calls for kids to be placed in their home. The call that led to a placement was for two sisters who were 3-months and 3-years-old.

And so it began. Therapy appointments, learning assessments, meeting with and encouraging the girls’ biological parents, talking through the situation with their children, praying.

It was a hard situation to enter into. It was hard on their marriage and their family. It was sad to see the stories of two, young girls and their parents struggling and oftentimes failing, but it also showed and taught them how to love more deeply.

“I think of commitment as a synonym for love more than anything else,” Cindy said. “You don’t change your commitment to your kids or your spouse because circumstances change.”

It’s about choosing to love, despite your weaknesses.

Their love and decision to love led them to the courthouse on January 19, 2016 to make Crystal Elizabeth and Luna Isabel part of their family.

Jason and Cindy said they didn’t set out to adopt – they also didn’t set out to have six biological children – but that’s the beauty of it all, right?

They would be the first to tell you that they haven’t loved well at all times, they’re not perfect, but love is a big part of their story.

The Nabb’s story is one that’s about more than the mushy, gushy love that quickly feels artificial.

Their story is about an imperfect love for each other, the overwhelming love of their community and the unfailing love of a God who multiplies their love for one another.

February 10, 2016

Love9

Dan Nelson

By Asha Timperley

We’ll cut to the chase and let you know that you’ve probably never met Dan Nelson or heard his story.

But, you may have tasted his kettle corn.

If you’ve ever had kettle corn at the Lincoln Farmers’ Market, there’s a good chance it was made by Dan.

He’s the guy in the tent meticulously watching and stirring the big, metal pot with bubbling sugar and freshly popped corn. His wife and sons often help him sell bags of the still warm kettle corn or give out the coveted sample cups to anxious market browsers.

But this is just Dan’s summer/weekend job. During the week, Dan is the owner and founder of Vahallan, a hand-painted wallpaper company.

“I can’t imagine doing anything else,” Dan said. “I’m a professional finger painter.”

The lead-up to Dan’s “finger painting” career was about as nontraditional as his job. He graduated from the University of Kearney with a degree in business administration, considered going back to work on his family’s ranch in Alliance, Neb., and then decided ranch life wasn’t for him.

He moved to Omaha and worked as the manager at Blockbuster Video before trying out the insurance world for a few years. Eventually Dan moved to Lincoln, took a few more college classes, got a job in the medical field and then worked as a manager at Applebee’s.

Then, his brother told him about some hand-painted wallpaper he’d seen and was making, so Dan thought he’d try to make it too. Dan worked 60 hours a week and painted paper for another 40 hours, finding time before and after his day job.

He tested his designs in his sister’s garage and hung the papers over the fence in the backyard to dry.

Yes, that’s really how it all started. No art degree, no risk assessment, no second thought, just jumping in full speed.

Dan said that’s pretty typical for him. He sees something he wants to try and he goes whole hog.

That’s how he got into the popcorn business too. He saw kettle corn at an event, bought a kit to try it out and then started selling at the farmers market. His methods often cue an eye roll from his wife, but she’s always been extremely supportive of his ideas, Dan said.

But just because Dan quickly got into the paper and popcorn business, doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Most of the time it’s borderline crazy, Dan said. Starting a company comes with a host of demands that require Dan’s full attention at all hours of the day. And while his natural creativity propels a large part of his business, the technical elements of managing people, developing a workflow and coming up with ideas to help his company grow are all daily challenges.

It’s stressful too. Creating and selling hand-painted wallpaper is a delicate process. It takes creativity, design know-how, patience and physical strength. The hand-painted look is intricate and freestyle, but it also needs to be uniform and consistent enough to fit seamlessly into homes, offices, hotels and restaurants.

And while Dan doesn’t have any direct competitors in Lincoln, he does have competitors, big ones.

At times, Dan feels like a little fish in a big pond, and other days he gets a call from BCBG, Saks Fifth Avenue, one of his international suppliers or a famous baseball player who wants Vahallan paper in their space.

It’s a constant up and down, and as he gets older, it’s harder for him to handle.

Dan isn’t a peppy guy with a flashy smile. He’s simple and to the point. In true Nebraska form, he says what he means and works until the job is done.

He has a seemingly endless stream of ideas for designs, many of which use natural elements like pine needles and twine to give his paper a unique look and feel. But Dan is more than a finger painter, what he’s creating is art.

His story is about laying his chips on the table, going all in, because he’s proud to stand behind two businesses that he’s grateful to call his own.

He’s a fighter and a risk taker, and Dan wouldn’t have it any other way.

February 3, 2016

Love4

Meg Hasselbalch

By Asha Timperley

“I don’t really have much of a story,” said Meg Hasselbalch as she stood in Paper Kite, her little boutique sandwiched between other locally-owned shops on Prescott Avenue.

I smiled a little at her comment, because in my head her story was already taking shape. Meg has a story, even if to her it feels like she’s been ‘winging it’ most of her life.

Meg said she always felt like she was faking it.

In college she jokingly referred to herself a “fake” art student, because she loved art, but never latched on to any one discipline like most other students.

When she discovered her love for boutique shops she got a job at a maternity boutique in San Francisco. People would often say to her, ‘Wait, you’re 22 and you don’t have any kids, but you work in a maternity store?’ Meg would respond with a quick, ‘Yep!’ and then go back to work.

That’s the thing about Meg, she’s present and focused on the task at hand. So despite the fact that working in a maternity shop wasn’t exactly what she pictured doing in her 20s, it was an important part of her story.

She loved working at the maternity boutique and her boss quickly became her mentor, inviting Meg to assist with buying, go to market and pick out items for the shop. The fake feeling was starting to wear off.

Four years later, Meg moved back home to Lincoln. She missed her family, her community and was ready to do something a little different.

She briefly worked in Omaha, designing extravagant window displays for Anthropologie and then came back to Lincoln when she heard about a shop on Prescott Avenue that was moving out of its space.

The name of the shop was Scout. Meg had kept her eye on this shop, thinking that someday it might be a place she could fill with her own ideas. She loved the little architectural touches, the cozy neighborhood where it was located…and the fact that Scout was her middle name.

It finally just fit.

Now, it wasn’t like all the pieces fell into place, but things did happen quickly. Meg ran the idea for her boutique by her friends, family and a financial advisor to see if it was just plain crazy or possible.

She threw together a business plan and talked with her former boss and mentor.

She pieced together various word combinations to land on just the right name and feel for her shop.

It was like a dream, she said, a really stressful but beautiful dream. Meg said her family pitched in right away, painting her space and helping her decorate in record time. She stocked her shelves with gift items and clothing catered to ‘baby, home and her,’ and featured as many local and regional makers as possible.

And on October 1, 2013, Meg opened Paper Kite.

It was a whirlwind, but it was her whirlwind and she was so proud to call Paper Kite her own.

Three months later, Meg and her husband found out they were pregnant with their first child.

Cue whirlwind number two.

“What are we going to do?!” was Meg’s first thought. But in true Meg-style, she kept moving forward.

Battling morning sickness while working six to seven days a week was a full time job that kept Meg plenty busy until her daughter, Mary Frances, entered the world nearly a year to the day after she opened Paper Kite.

It was insane, Meg said, but it worked. She continued working with her dozing daughter snuggled with her in the shop.

People started coming to Paper Kite to see Mary Frances almost as much as to shop, and Meg realized she was well into the second year of owning her own shop. Paper Kite was busy, people loved her shop and Meg loved her job.

It was the right fit.

Meg wandered around her shop telling me about her favorite items and rearranging stacks of notecards or smoothing a sweet little baby outfit just to feel the soft cotton.

Meg said it was important to her that everything went together, even though she was selling everything from candles and cards to corn cob rattles and patterned leggings – it all needed to look like Paper Kite.

Meg’s story is like herself, humble and gracious. It’s about finding her place, mixing her loves and her skills and moving forward when the unexpected turns out better than you expected.

Paper Kite is Meg’s art. It’s not overly complicated – it’s simple, it’s beautiful and it’s hers.

January 26, 2016

Love4

Jay Wilkinson

By Asha Timperley

For Jay Wilkinson, it’s pretty normal to get quoted in nonprofit circles, retweeted by marketing gurus and interviewed on local or national TV…all in one day.

Back in college he started four businesses. Yes, four. One of which went-big and prompted a move to New York City post-graduation.

In 1992, he sold the company that took him to the big city and came back to his home-state of Nebraska.

Upon his return, Jay bought a printing franchise that he eventually turned into Cornerstone Printing and Marketing, which has since become Firespring.

Those big steps, and the little ones in between, are all important milestones in Jay’s story. He’s a well-known entrepreneur, nonprofit activist, community builder and webinar facilitator in Lincoln, but he admittedly has spent a big chunk of his life trying to be someone he’s not – his father.

“He’s my vision of what it’s like to live a life rather than have life happen to you,” Jay said.

Now, it’s not wrong to want to be like your parent, but Jay put a lot of pressure on himself to not only be like his dad, but to be his dad. And much of Jay’s striving to be his father has shaped his own story.

Gilbert (Gil) Wilkinson is a scrappy hustler with a strong work-ethic, a present mindset and a wise spirit. Gil showed up and participated. He was at every practice and football game and he led Jay’s Boy Scout troop, guiding eight boys to achieve the rank of Eagle Scout.

Having a parent like this is amazing, Jay said, but it’s also extremely frustrating. Jay was constantly working to measure up to this incredible man, but nothing he did ever seemed like enough.

This pressure was 100 percent self-inflicted. Jay said his dad never compared their careers, work ethic or abilities. He’d probably hate that Jay has spent so much of his life feeling like he’d come up short. But it’s all part of Jay’s story.

As he grew older and more successful, Jay decided that saving his money and using it to build a massive homage to his father could be his way of paying back his dad for every example and bit of wisdom he’d sewn into Jay’s character.

But if you’re looking for a hospital wing or collegiate library named after Gilbert Wilkinson, you won’t find one. A few years ago, Jay realized that dedicating a building to his father wasn’t where he should be investing his energy.

Jay pulled a piece of off-white paper out of a folder and handed it to me. It’s a quote that he took from an impactful leadership training he attended as a 16-year-old.

“I’ve carried it with me ever since,” Jay said, going on to read the quote.

“ ‘I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good, therefore, that I can do or any kindness I can show, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.’ ”

Jay said he’s read this Stephan Grellet quote over and over again, but a few years ago the words ‘do it now’ jumped off the page.

Do it now.

Jay realized that in his constant striving to be his dad or pay him back, he’d been waiting to live out the quote that he’d theoretically structured his life around.

He realized he would never be his dad, and that was ok. He also realized he needed to stop waiting.

So that’s what Jay did.

He changed Firespring’s mission statement to reflect his decision do good in the present, not just the future.

In 2014 Firespring became the first and only certified B-Corp in the state, holding to a high-level of third-party accountability and transparency. It’s a label that requires a company to hold up to its promised giving, not bend to the whims of a good or bad fiscal year.

Jay said this is usually the part in his story where people tend to nod off. After all, everyone has heard about companies ‘giving back’ or incentivising their employees to volunteer and donate. Blah, blah, blah. Right?

But Jay is actually doing this. He’s living up to the bold letters and almost cheesy sayings that are painted on the walls at Firespring. He’s giving, empowering, motivating and teaching as an outpouring of his personal beliefs, not because of the way it looks.

A few years back, Jay probably would have said he was doing all this good for his dad, which would have been okay, but now, he’s doing it because he thinks it’s what matters.

It’s part of his story and his legacy.

Jay can’t be his dad, and that doesn’t bother him anymore.

January 20, 2016

Love7

Heidi Little

By Asha Timperley

We’ll be honest, it’s hard to know where to start with Heidi Little’s story.

We could start with the fact that she’s the child of an Air Force doctor, and served her own 11-year stint in the Air Force.

Or we could mention that fact that she had a long stretch of time when she was confused and somewhat disillusioned about what to do…so she delivered Domino’s pizza.

And then there’s the part where she got her nursing degree and worked the weekend shift as a critical care nurse for nine years.

But, the latest part of Heidi’s story is about her relationship with Everett Elementary School.

It was Friday afternoon and kids in coats spilled out of Everett Elementary School, celebrating the joy of another weekend. Heidi walked up the cement steps to the school holding boxes of goodies that fulfilled a few of the teachers’ wish lists.

For the past few years, Heidi has asked all the teachers to send her a short list of things they’d like for their classroom. Some write down items like headphones or a pencil machine, others want incentives like cereal and peanut butter. It’s a small thing, but to the teachers and kids, it’s a big deal.

She gets stopped in the hallways by teachers who are curious about what she has and who she’s delivering it to – playdough for the kindergarteners and sentence strips for the fifth graders. A number of people also stop and ask her about an event or project that she has in the works and her go-to response is some derivative of, “Yes! I’m excited about that!” or “No, I haven’t forgotten, but I’m working on it.”

Everyone at Everett knows Heidi.

But that wasn’t always the case. When her oldest son, Jesse, was ready to start school, Heidi and her husband sent him to a school across town instead of Everett, their neighboring school.

She was protective of Jesse and wanted to make sure he was at an academically strong school, a reputation Everett didn’t have. But by winter break, she was questioning her decision and it prompted a trip to Everett. Heidi wandered the halls and was given an impromptu tour. At the end, she knew Jesse needed to be at Everett.

As we walked around the school and Heidi doled out her gifts, she kept talking about what a good school Everett is and how she’s proud it’s where her kids go. She loves the caring teachers and attentive administrators who give everything to their students, oftentimes giving out of their own pockets, a pattern Heidi noticed.

Everett severely lacks parental involvement and the PTO-type funding that often pays for field trips and classroom ‘extras’ that other schools typically enjoy. Heidi found herself funneling any extra money or fundraising opportunity she had to Everett, and then thought, ‘Why not start a nonprofit?’ So in 2012 Heidi created the Everett Community Nonprofit Organization.

Heidi is one of Everett’s biggest champions, hosting superhero fun runs, gong shows, publishing a goofy calendar with her coworkers from Bryan Health and all sorts of events to get the community involved. She name drops the nonprofit to anyone she meets, joking that people duck when they see her because they know she’ll ask them for money.

All of the money raised has gone to send Everett students on field trips and buy items like new dictionaries, calculators and tissues – a long list of seemingly little things that make a school more than just a building with classrooms.

Last year, Roland Temme, owner of the neighboring business TMCO, wrote a $20,000 check to build Everett a walking track. It was a surprise neither Heidi or the school imagined, and it came at a time when Heidi was losing momentum.

It’s hard not to get discouraged when what you hoped or dreamed isn’t the reality, she said, but getting that big check from Mr. Temme and the continual support of her friends and family has kept Heidi focused on doing more for Everett.

These days, she’s dreaming of green grass and a shiny new playground for the school. Her youngest child is just a year away from going to middle school, but that doesn’t matter. Heidi said she’ll probably always be involved at Everett. It’s blocks from her house, it’s where her kids learned and it’s part of her story.

What we love about Heidi’s story is that it wasn’t planned. She didn’t set out to start a nonprofit. Heidi delivered pizza, worked weekends, took care of her kids and when she found out about Everett she did something.

Her story is about stepping up and stepping in to her community, because that matters.

January 13, 2016

Love3

Mike Smith

By Asha Timperley

Mike Smith is a big name in the skateboarding community, just look at his social media stats: 32k+ Facebook likes, 62k+ Twitter followers and 100k+ Instagram followers.

At 26 he started a Lincoln-based nonprofit, The BAY, and the internationally recognized movement Skate for Change.

Mike’s website touts him as a professional speaker, consultant and brand ambassador, having worked with brands like Puma, Red Bull, Ethika and Toyota.

At one point during our interview I told Mike it felt like I was talking to a celebrity. Not because he acted like it, not because he wanted to be one, but because Mike Smith has connections. He knows so and so at MTV and ABCFamily, and what’s his face in LA and New York.

I could tell that my celebrity comment made him feel a little weird, because Mike still sees himself as a skateboarding wannabe watching FUEL TV at his parents house in Imperial, Nebraska.

But Mike’s story isn’t about a small town kid making it big.

Mike’s story is about connections. He tells his story to thousands of high schoolers to connect with them, but also to bring awareness and passion to the movements that are close to his heart.

Lincoln’s The BAY is one of those places.

Mike started The BAY back in 2011 as a way to combine his passion for skateboarding with youth outreach. He took a run-down space in Gateway Mall, added some skate ramps and things were up and running.

A short while later, The BAY outgrew the space and moved to 22nd and Y streets, just northeast of UNL’s campus. Kids were eager for a place to skate or just hang out, and that’s what The BAY gave them, but this was never all that Mike envisioned.

The easy part was finding a place and a way to interact with kids, Mike said. The hard part was everything else.

Bills. Staff. Rules. Growth. Plus the fact that Mike was a 26-year-old who started a nonprofit in the middle of a recession.

Mike saw the ugly side of the nonprofit world. He was disappointed by passionate people who lost their fire after not seeing the progress they hoped for within a few months. And he made his own mistakes, lots of them. He couldn’t pay his employees or always keep the lights on at The BAY, but those hurdles didn’t hold up the process.

When Mike realized The BAY had $5 in its bank account, he went and lived homeless under a bridge in Lincoln for a month and then skateboarded across Nebraska to spread the word. He started speaking on a national scale to funnel funds back to The BAY. When his list of reliable employees got short he sought out specific people to propel his vision.

And so far, it’s worked.

“We fell in love with the bad stories,” he said. “We didn’t do this for the good stories. We did this for all the stories.”

Sustainable change isn’t about how you feel from one day to the next, he explained, it’s about consistency in the midst of complicated situations.

And making The BAY more than just a cool place to skate is complicated.

This year, The BAY served more than 100,000 meals, gave away socks and hygiene kits to the homeless and helped kids get out of juvenile detention centers. Skateboarding is a catalyst for some of the best stuff The BAY does, Mike said, and that’s the way he wants to keep it.

Mike has big dreams for The BAY. He wants it to include job training, legal aid, artist spaces and small business, and Mike wants Lincoln’s location to be the first of many across the country.

To make this happen, Mike has to spend the majority of his time away from The BAY. He travels and speaks for 80 percent of the year to raise awareness and make more connections to bring his dreams to life.

Mike said he often lays in bed at night and scrolls through social media, looking at pictures from The BAY or kids getting involved with their local Skate for Change chapters. Most of the time, he’s in awe of how something that started on the streets of Lincoln ballooned into something that thousands of people are getting behind.

Mike is adamant about the fact he could never have done this on his own. While his name can stand alone, what he does can’t.

Whether he’s speaking, representing a brand, dreaming about The BAY or promoting Skate for Change, his work has always been about building a community, not changing what already existed.

And he’s done that, but he’s not done yet.

December 30, 2015

Love7

Bryan Clark

By Asha Timperley

“Would you mind sticking around and preaching until we find a real pastor?”

Bryan Clark was in no way offended by this question. As a young associate pastor working at a struggling church in Broken Bow, Nebraska, being the head pastor was not on his radar.

For him the word ‘pastor’ conjured up the image of a legalistic preacher wearing outdated clothing and driving a station wagon with panel siding.

But that was 33 years ago.

Now, Bryan Clark is going on 23 years as the head pastor of Lincoln’s largest church, Lincoln Berean. With about 4,500 people in the building on a typical weekend, Lincoln Berean attendees make up approximately 1 in 50 people in Lincoln.

For many people, the title ‘mega church pastor’ conjures up images of a flashy, power-suit wearing preacher driving a Cadillac with blacked out windows.

But that’s not Bryan Clark.

He seems more like a pastor at a church of a few hundred, not a few thousand people. Down-to-earth and approachable, Bryan’s distinctively low tone of voice was the same in our one-on-one conversation as during his Sunday sermons.

Don’t be fooled by his calm demeanor, Bryan carries a heavy load. With a church the size of Berean, his time is in short supply amidst the vast number of needs and decisions that require his attention.

It’s a 24/7 job that he likened to farming. It doesn’t have parameters on when the work is done, he said, but if you don’t embrace the lifestyle you won’t make it.

So, Bryan has embraced his calling. After being asking to step into a pastoral role back in Broken Bow, he quickly saw that preaching was what God created him to do, and he stayed at that church for 10 years before transitioning to Lincoln Berean.

What seemed most notable was that Bryan doesn’t seem overwhelmed by the weight of his job. He’s not a martyr for his church. Instead, he has learned his emotional and physical limitations, and trusts the input from other pastors and counselors.

So, while being the head pastor at Lincoln Berean is a major part of Bryan Clark, it’s not what defines his life. Yes, the Bryan Clark and Lincoln Berean Church stories reflect the other, but they’re not the same.

Bryan’s story involves struggling to understand pain and suffering, resting in an all-knowing God and consistently serving in the place and position where God led him.

He’s a mega church pastor, but he’s also a father, husband and hobbyist. His office shelves are lined with cowboy sculptures and antique machines that he took apart and rebuilt. He’s an introvert and a cowboy wannabe who trains horses, dabbles in welding and blacksmithing, learned to play the cello at age 50 and enjoys fishing in the small pond behind his house.

What we appreciate about Bryan is that he owns his story. He’s not trying to be someone else or chase the latest church trend. He’s not trying to make Lincoln Berean anything but itself. The church isn’t perfect, and he’d be the first one to tell you that, but it’s a place and a people he’s proud to lead.

We chose to feature Bryan Clark because his name and reputation are well-known around Lincoln, but more so because his story isn’t contrived. He’s a self-proclaimed plodder – he moves slowly and methodically. There’s not some special formula to what he does, but he does have a method to the way he lives his life.

Bryan believes everyone was created on purpose, for a purpose. So for him, his story matters because it’s rooted to God, a God who has asked him to play a part in the story that He has written.

And to Bryan Clark, that matters.

December 23, 2015

Love28

Michael Forsberg

By Asha Timperley

It was one of those moments that seemed worthy of a photo – the swaying prairie grasses, fresh outdoor smells and the visible breath as we chatted on that brisk Nebraska morning.

It all just fit. The hum of a distant train and nearby birds rising and falling in their own little dance.

Familiar, quiet, restful…this was his element.

Michael Forsberg spoke gently but deliberately about his work. He described how he grew up loving and exploring the outdoors, haphazardly fell into photography, trained himself to write because he needed to and somehow ended up being one of the most well-known nature and conservation photographers in the country.

But when Michael talks about his story, he seems a little surprised at how it all unfolded. A job he shouldn’t have been offered, a career he never dreamed of and a family he works to treasure.

He’s surprised, because this wasn’t in his original plan, but it somehow became his plan. His story, camera or no camera, is about appreciating and sharing his home state of Nebraska.

“A lot of folks consider this flyover country, but that’s not true,” he started. “It doesn’t knock your socks off at first glance, but it’s every bit as remarkable…You really have to linger.”

It’s about lingering. That’s what he does best.

As a nature photographer there is a lot of patient waiting that’s involved in the process. The light, setting, creatures and even the elements are all part of making each photo say something.

Michael doesn’t take pictures, he makes them. It’s like a puzzle, everything has its place. He lingers over moments, waiting for the exact one he’s been anticipating for hours or days. Then, he captures it.

Michael’s job is to witness some of Nebraska’s rawest and most striking natural moments – migrating Sandhill cranes, stunning prairie sunsets and rolling ranch lands.

But what he’s seen as he’s grown older, and experienced more as a man, husband and father, is that his lingering isn’t just for the sake of lingering.

Sure, it’s the adventure-seeking job he dreamed of, but there’s more to it than simply capturing breathtaking moments.

Michael loves Nebraska and the Great Plains because he’s spent time taking them in, making them his own and soaking up their subtle glory. Now, he said, it’s about stepping out from behind the camera to share what he knows and sees.

So, he writes books and speaks to children and adults. He teaches classes and pursues new ways to explore and learn about his home state and its surrounding natural habitats.

It’s a terrifying new element of his work, he said. But again, when he focuses on sharing with people instead of pleasing, it taps into why he’s so immersed in this work.

It’s about sharing.

“We each have a story to tell and we’re writing that story our entire lives,” he said.

Michael loves the way he can capture powerful moments with his camera to help tell his story, but he also knows that he can’t capture every story or moment with a picture.

He rarely features people in his photos, because it’s not his focus, but that doesn’t mean people aren’t part of his work.

When thinking back to some of his favorite projects he’s surprised that no specific image comes to mind, it’s just faces, he said. He remembers the people who let him sit at their dinner table, explore their family-owned ranch and those who make up his personal story.

He’s thankful his parents encouraged him to play outdoors until it was dark. He’s thankful his family has understood and supported his work over the years. And he’s thankful for a community that sees his work as more than just pretty pictures.

It’s been about people in an understated but profound way.

People have honored him by sharing their stories, and Michael Forsberg’s work is his way of returning the favor.

December 16, 2015

Love2

Previous 1 … 4 5 6 7 Next