I was just minding my business reading the news and getting lost in my Sunday mindless exercise, when I came upon a news story that shook me – on many levels. This story is about Captain Peter Linnerooth; a story worth noting and sharing. Does it have to do with concussions, I don’t know and I don’t care, it has to do with the well-being of humans – a plight that is part of the concussion story.
Regardless the Sharon Cohen authored story on Capt. Linnerooth is well worth your time;
He had a knack for soothing soldiers who’d just seen their buddies killed by bombs. He knew how to comfort medics sickened by the smell of blood and troops haunted by the screams of horribly burned Iraqi children.
Capt. Peter Linnerooth was an Army psychologist. He counseled soldiers during some of the fiercest fighting in Iraq. Hundreds upon hundreds sought his help. For nightmares and insomnia. For shock and grief. And for reaching that point where they just wanted to end it all.
Linnerooth did such a good job his Army comrades dubbed him The Wizard. His “magic” was deceptively simple: an instant rapport with soldiers, an empathetic manner, a big heart.
The man knew how to handle others and create an atmosphere for helping on a battlefield and beyond;
He was, as one buddy says, the guy who could help everybody – everybody but himself. […]
“There’s no cavalry to save the day,” McNabb explains. “You ARE the cavalry. There was no relief.” […]
For about half his tour, Linnerooth’s office was a 12-by-12 trailer. His heavy-metal soundtrack – he banned the Beatles and Pink Floyd, deeming them too sad – provided a sound buffer. A thermal blanket serving as a makeshift room divider also provided a modicum of privacy.
Linnerooth brought hope to those gripped by hopelessness. In a desert, he could always find the glass half full.
He turned tragedies into cathartic moments: When a platoon lost a member, he’d encourage the survivors to deal with their grief by writing letters to the children of the fallen soldier, recounting the great things about their father.
Then the pressures were too much; Continue reading