Finding Comfortable

The Winter Sports Clinic took place this year in Snowmass, CO. It is a gathering of over 400 injured servicemen and women. The injuries range from amputated limbs, traumatic brain injuries, to blindness. They come to this clinic to learn to ski, snowboard and participate in other mountain activities. The idea being they can still achieve great things no matter the injury.

Michael (The DP) and I arrived Saturday ready to film this extraordinary event. I was nervous before before we got there because I had never been around that many injured people before. I was afraid I would stare or be uncomfortable or end up saying something inappropriate. I was basically afraid of what I didn't know. 

We went to registration to find Jerry Cortinas one of the people we were filming. In the registration hall I was struck by the number of wheelchairs waiting in line. If I was going to be nervous it was going to be here. We found Jerry and quickly threw ourselves into following him. As we watched him sign up for snowboarding I found myself chatting with other people. One young guy was newly injured from Iraq. I could see the defeat in his eyes. The organizer told me to look for him at the end of the week; she was sure he would have a different expression. I met a young female paratrooper that was learning to walk again after her shoot didn't open during a training exercise in North Carolina (yes, it is amazing she survived). She was all smiles and definitely lit up the room. I kept meeting people that had incredible stories of survival and recovery. I quickly realized they weren't uncomfortable so neither was I. Sure, sometimes I stared and other times I felt emotional, but most of the time I was in awe.  It is hard not to be whe you see a double amputee walking on his prosthetics holding a snowboard. Apparently that guy can really shred (that's me using the snowboard lingo I picked up :)

Then a surprise came along. After the first couple of days of filming, one of the event directors wallked over to me and asked, "Have you ever bucket skied?"

"No," I said. "I can't ski at all." She quickly informed me that I was about to learn. She explained to me that the bucket ski is what those who have leg injuries ski with. She explained that they would strap me into a bucket, send me off with an instructor, and I would have to learn to use my arms to ski. "We want you to feel what it is like to not use your legs," she said. Without thinking, I hastily replied, "I'm in!" She left and I cringed. You see I am afraid of heights. Which means I hate ski lifts and I had a feeling I would hate them even more while sitting in a bucket.

Turns out I was wrong....but more on that later.

Hi Everyone. My name is Amanda Spain and I am a producer on In Their Boots. I am currently out in the field filming the amazing people you will get to meet in our show. In the coming weeks I will tell you about life on the road, what I am learning and some of the crazy experiences I have had. I can tell you this; the people I have already met have changed my life. Each service member I meet or family member I talk to gives me a new way of looking at things. Hopefully  as you watch and learn more about these people and hear their stories you too will be inspired.

shots fired

Like many, I was off for Memorial Day. My wife was out of town, so I was looking for a productive and somewhat reverent way to spend the day. I did a couple searches online for ceremonies or anything I might be able to attend. Nothing. A couple anti-war initiatives, but that's not really my flavor. A Buddy of mine had asked if I'd want to come along to help sight in a rifle on a range up in the foothills outside the city. He's an Army reservist, so I figured he could use some help (just jokin'). Seriously though, what better way to honor those fallen than to polish your skills as a defender in their stead.

The range was a happening place. The air was boiling with sporadic gunfire and an acidic aroma of spent powder filled the air. As my ears filtered thru the chatter of countless weapons, they perked at the unmistakable cackle of an AK.

Like a switch is flipped, electricity spiders through my veins, I feel it brim in my finger tips as my fists clench. A split second late, my mind attempts to override the adrenaline shot. A voice in my head talks my tightened chest and clenched jaw into relaxing. Reluctantly, I close my eyes and let loose the air locked in my lungs. A wave of chills rolls over me. I think that haunting little Soviet jingle will forever awaken something in me. Silently I have to laugh at myself.

The sun was out and with a jacket the temps were great for shooting. We actually saw several veterans; clad in different attire that cued the trained eye into their service. Maybe getting some trigger time is a more common Memorial Day ritual than I knew. I must admit, there is something cathartic about getting back to the basics behind a trusted piece of hardware.

Trent and I got his 306 dialed in for an upcoming pig hunt and messed around with a little odd ball .25 cal. pistol he had. Leaned in the rifle racks behind the firing line I saw several AR-15's (the M16's civilian equivalent). I don't mean to sound corny, but their pistol grip seemed to call to me, like an overdue hand shake from an old friend. I refrained, but reflected on the comfort that the weight of my A-4 offered outside the wire and how its synthetic grips had felt in my sweaty palms. Gritty images began to flow past my minds eye.

Memorial Day '08, I saw no color guard and was spared the haunting melody of a lone bugle, but memories of the fallen and gratitude for past generations prevailed. Those whose final breaths were drawn amidst the burn of smoke and whose ears silenced to the sound of guns. May their souls finally rest in peace.

Who'd a thunk it.

There I was, a video production student at Ball State University trying to find a production internship out West for the summer, which might open doors in the documentary world. Through a series of connections I'm put in touch with a producer at BNF. In light of my past experiences and interest in production they bring me on as an intern/military consultant for a show in development. In Their Boots, they are calling it. I'm pumped about the premise of the show and the stories they are looking to tell. I agree to be a part of the team through the end of the year. My wife is originally from Cali and she's enthusiastic about being back out that way, so all systems are go. Until school let out they had me working over the phone and internet with various efforts. I was asked to submit a video reel applying to be the host, so they could use it for an example online, as the nationwide talent search kicked off. Little did I know how this would change things.

Now I'm on the other end of the gun. I've agreed to host IN THEIR BOOTS. It still makes me laugh thinking about it. My Mom has always told me I should try being in front of the camera, while I have usually worked behind it gathering stories. It will be interesting to see how it turns out. In a way I am well conditioned for the job. I have always been a people person and during my time in the Corps I interviewed hundreds of people and relayed endless stories, as part of my responsibilities as a combat correspondent. I had to become a good listener. I know that will be key in this assignment as well. I am excited about the opportunities to come, and the people I will meet as part of my job. The service-members we are working with have some incredible stories of hardship and triumph. I can't wait for the world to know their stories.