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 Without a doubt, I am most well known by my pen name, J.C. EBERHART. I'm a sixty year-young woman who is passionate about her career, family, free lance writing and authoring. I grew-up in a tiny little Minnesota Village known as Kasota, Minnesota, graduated from Mankato, MN High School in 1967, have two wonderful adult, married children with families of their own, returned to college when I was twenty-eight years old and continue to practice fulltime as a Licensed Alcohol and Drug Counselor.
If I had to name two songs that describe my life best, one would be the song from the 1970's, "I Am Woman" and the 2009 Miley Cyrus hit, "The Climb." I've always treasured the excitement of a challenge and even more so, the exhiliration of overcoming the challenges I've encountered and faced head-on during my life journey.
In retrospect, I am grateful for everyone who has been a part of my life in that they have each contributed to the evolution of the whole and loving woman I strive to be, today.
My professional counseling website is: http://www.recoveryfromaddictionwithoutwalls.com where you can learn more about what it is that I do, professionally. When publishing via the internet, I usually use http://www.Triond.com, however, the best way to locate many of my published articles is to simply "google" my pen name, JC Eberhart. I enjoy blogging at http://wordpress.com (you can find my blog by going to that website and searching, JC Eberhart's Artistry; and more about my family and myself can be found at: http://www.myspace/Attrayo.
If I could have any wish granted, it would be that I could have at least another twenty years "at my prime" to continue much of the work I am now blest to be able to accomplish! I love life and am passionate about living it, about loving those dear to me, and about sharing the joy of my countless blessings with others! God bless!
"There is no problem too difficult to find the solution, if only we are willing to persevere in our search to find it." (Copyright 2008 by JC Eberhart)
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MY ACCOMPLISHMENTS:
- SIX STRATEGIES to TEACH YOUR CHILDREN to PROTECT THEM FROM PREDATORS:
“An eleven year old girl. A predator. Life as she knew it . . . a life that ended. Her own. Life is supposed to culminate at the end of a lifetime, if anything, in a peaceful death. Jaycee’s ended that day in hell. She encountered two predators, a male and a female. The gates of hell had opened wide, and she'd been swallowed up inside.”
Two years ago I composed an article about Serial Killer Hilton, “Don’t Become a Predator’s Prey.” In that article, I talked about warning our children that there are bad people out there. Bad people who look just like everyone else. They wear no sign that identifies them as bad. If only they did. This little girl, Jaycee, would have known to quickly run away. Perhaps before she could, she was swept up by a wave of evil. A wave of evil that no child on this earth could have ever imagined. Nor should any child ever have to imagine that which lay ahead for little, eleven year old, Jaycee.
Despite the futile, desperate attempts of her stepfather to save her, she was snatched away from him before his very eyes as he struggled to reach her in time. Dear God, should any parent ever have to suffer such agony?
When I think about the minutes, hours, days that unfolded into years of torturous questions and nightmares her family had to endure, I wonder how these special people made it through. When I think of the daily life of torture, psychological abuse, sexual abuse, rape, neglect, and imprisonment that Jaycee lived every day of the rest of her young life, I experience a shudder deep inside my soul.
This beautiful child who now, after being discovered eighteen years later, is raising two children conceived during two of her countless rapes. The two little girls who must now live with the knowledge that the monster who fathered them, from whom they descend, raped their mother. Two more innocent little angels victimized by evil.
The never ending, ongoing effects of acts too horrendous to imagine, committed against an innocent little girl, will live on for many generations to come. This precious family is left to gather the remnants of what once was their life, and mend it together again into some form of family unit that makes some kind of sense. A job not many would be up for.
Thankfully, this family will undergo years of professional help. Even so, will Jaycee be better off once she realizes how straight out of hell her everyday life really was? She is bound to compare that which she is now experiencing as a normal life, with that which she must have had to have convinced herself was normal in order to have managed to survive such horrors. Will she be able to come to terms with the brutality she experienced as her “normal life” during the last eighteen years? How will her psyche survive the blow of finally comparing the two ways of [her] life and realizing fully the horrors she endured?
I listened to the news on CNN as many of these details and questions were asked. As many people called-in and blamed the criminal justice system for not keeping this monster away from the innocent children we nurture and love. I wondered whether blaming will help anyone. It is what it is. I wish I could say that I believe it is likely to change anytime soon. But I don’t believe that.
What I do believe is that we who love and nurture our children, must also arm our babies with knowledge and awareness. Will this shatter their naivete’? Oh yes. Is that reality a heartbreaking one? Most definitely. If we were to ask Jaycee’s parents if that would have been better than to have lost their daughter for eighteen years, I do not wonder what their response would be. Nor should you.
Protect your children. Warn them, that they must:
- Never be alone with adults who
are strangers,
- If they see a car slowing down
and pulling-up to them, RUN
AWAY AS FAST AS THEIR LITTLE
LEGS WILL CARRY THEM,
- If anyone approaches them on-
foot who they do not know, RUN
AWAY AS FAST AS THEIR LITTLE
LEGS WILL CARRY THEM,
- If anyone grabs them, SCREAM AS
LOUDLY AS THEY CAN, OVER AND
OVER, THE WORDS, “YOU’RE NOT MY
MOTHER!” OR, “YOU’RE NOT MY
DAD!” Keep screaming these
words while kicking, biting and
fighting WITH ALL THEIR MIGHT!
- Never be alone with any adult
their parents haven’t put them
in the charge of,
- If they ever feel even slightly
uncomfortable around any adult,
GET AWAY FROM THAT PERSON AS
FAST AS THEY CAN GO!
Knowledge is power. We must empower our children with the knowledge that can save their lives so that in one foul swoop, life as they know it, cannot be ripped away from them by one of the many predators who live among us.
© JC Eberhart and JC Eberhart’s Blog, 1974 – 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to JC Eberhart and JC Eberhart’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
__________________________________ - THE HISTORICAL DAY THAT THE 9/11 HOLOCAUST BEFELL AMERICA:
I am a free lance writer, a mental health professional, and (among other things) an old history buff from way back. It has been while researching my own genealogical roots that certain gnawing questions have occurred to me. It is also because of that fact that I have arrived at the decision to compose this article.
I have been fortunate enough to have descended from ancestors on both my paternal and maternal sides who’ve authored and published books about their heritage and their lives back in the 1800’s and before. I also consider myself very fortunate in having been bestowed with an abundance of the persistence and perseverance required to diligently pursue my long term goal of locating this invaluable information about not only those from whence I came, but about who I am, today. (However, that’s an entire ‘nother topic about which another published article will follow this one in the very near future, I can assure you!)
By the same token, in order to be completely forthright with you, I must divulge the fact that it was while pursuing my genealogical endeavors that more than one important, gnawing question I mentioned earlier, seemed to linger within my thoughts. It was in the midst of my research, that I realized that there’d been certain important, world changing historical events which had occurred during the lives of my ancestors. Historical events about which they neglected to write their families’ experiences in their documented family histories and memoirs. For example, where were my ancestors during those pronounced historical events and what were their personal experiences with, during and resulting from those events?
Possessing the incurably, inquisitive mind that I do, as I longed to have known far more than I was able to find documented, I found myself pondering the possibility that my own future family generations may experience some of the same curiosities and longings to which I seem to have fallen victim; longings to know more and more about myself and my family, i.e. their ancestors! It is, thus, primarily because of my desire for the benefit of the coming generations of my own family that I’ve undertaken this particular authoring endeavor. Hopefully, just as certain ancient publications have miraculously fallen into my hands, perhaps this publication will one day, too, fall into theirs.
Now, if you will, permit me to proceed into my own family’s 2009 recollection of that horrific day, September 11, 2001 (otherwise known as “9/11.”)
It was approximately 9:20 A.M. (Central Standard Time) on a weekday. I’d opted to use a vacation day from work at my office and was at home here in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I was straightening my living room when the phone rang. I raised the receiver of the telephone to my ear to hear a tone in my young adult, daughter’s voice I’d never previously experienced. Her voice tone was one of unmistakable urgency, (bordering on sheer panic) as she instructed me to quickly turn-on my television set. As I reached for the “on – off” button on my TV, I thought I heard my daughter say something about something horrible having just taken place that was being broadcast “live.”
Much to my shock, horror and disbelief, there was a news announcer speaking as I watched a huge jet passenger aircraft smash, nose, first, into one of the Twin Towers in Manhattan, New York. Surely this could not really be happening, I’d thought to myself. I don’t know that there has been any time in my life during which I’ve experienced such massive confusion. My thoughts seemed to argue with themselves, “But no! This is AMERICA! Attacks don’t happen here in AMERICA!” Then, again, “But look at the television screen! Could this be some kind of sick trick the media would play? No, I don’t think so.” Judging from the undertone of despair in the news announcer’s voice, this was no trick! I recall stating to my daughter, “Oh my God, Honey! This is going to mean war!”
My daughter and I spoke for only a few minutes on the telephone. I told her that I was going to pack a few items and drive over to her house. We said “Good-bye” and I hung-up the phone.
As I rushed around to grab various items to pack inside my bag, my mind swam in a flurry of thoughts. Thoughts like, “What will we do? How could this happen? What does this mean? Who would do something so terrible? Why? What’s going to happen next? Are we going to be safe where we live?” It seemed as though the thoughts wouldn’t stop. Struggle though I did, I could find no answers to my own questions. Would there be anyone who could answer them?
I grabbed everything I thought I might need while asking myself, “But if I don’t take everything, will I ever see any of it again?”
The next few days were dark days for all of us here in the United States of America. My daughter and son-in-law and I struggled to make sure that my two (then toddler) grandchildren learned nothing of what was happening. So many questions . . . so many fears . . . what to do . . . what to do?
That same morning, not long after the first, the second twin tower was also bombarded by a huge jet passenger airliner. Could things possibly grow any worse? Yes, oh yes. Within minutes, both towers crumbled, stack-by-stack, to the ground. “Oh dear God! No!”
There was nothing anyone could do. No answers to be found. Three of the longest days of my life were to follow. Those were the three days during which we heard no word of any kind from the President of the United States of America. I’d always looked to him for answers in any kind of country-related crisis. Where was he? Why won’t he tell us what is happening here?
On the third day after those atrocities, President Bush came on television and gave a speech. Today, I do not recall his speech, only his parting words, which were, “God bless America.” Those words passing between his lips were like a salve to my soul. At last, I felt able to climb from a pit of despair to once again being able to experience at least a small ray of hope. However, there was absolutely no denying the fact that our world, as we’d known it, had been completely shattered . . . never to be the same again. Not next year, not in five years, not ever.
There were countless stories of heart-breaking, family tragedies that followed over the next several months. Those were dark days, indeed. Thankfully, there has been no reoccurrence of 9/11 or of anything like it here in the United States. Not yet. Hopefully, not ever again.
As I prepare to bring this article to a close, I cannot help wondering whether or not my ancestors intentionally neglected to include stories of the historical events that changed their world. I only know that while writing this article, I’ve found myself neglecting to include details of other’s horrific experiencesand stories of that day when that unspeakable holocaust hit the Twin Towers in Manhattan, New York.
I find myself wondering whether or not the generations of my family to come, will really want to know after all.
©2009 by JC Eberhart
© JC Eberhart and JC Eberhart’s Blog, 1974 – 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to JC Eberhart and JC Eberhart’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
__________________________________ - OLD CLICK-ITTY CLACK:
Click-itty– clack, click-itty-clack . . .
as the able train chugs down the track,
I gaze out it’s window
green trees and blue sky
as they’re ever so quickly
whisked on by.
The train car rocks gently
from side – to – side,
then jerks in staccato’
drawing the eye;
returns to the rhythm
as we roll down the track,
the soothing sweet music
carries me back . . .
Two tiny girls, how we loved those old trains,
sleek, steel dinosaurs
rattled my brain;
the cry of their whistle
echoed into the night
as though they were bidding
Pat and Jeanie, “good night”.
The engine’s smoke billowing
up into the sky
brushing the clouds
as they floated on by;
our ears to the ties
little sister and I
could predict by vibration
another soon would roar by.
Off in the distance
we could hear it’s approach
til louder and louder
went thundering by
our bedroom walls trembled
but we didn’t cry.
Haunting howl of it’s whistle
faded into the night
after two tiny passengers
boarded it’s flight
in their bed, went along,
while all snuggled in tight;
rode the nightly dream journey
on old Click-itty-clack
as it carried two sisters
to dreamland, and back.
How we loved the sweet music
chugging down the track . . .
that magical rhythm
still takes me back
to our countless night journeys
on the sweet, soothing sound,
of Old Click-itty – Clack.
Copyright 2008 by JC Eberhart: © JC Eberhart and JC Eberhart’s Blog, 1974 – 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to JC Eberhart and JC Eberhart’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
__________________________________ - OVERDOSE: HELP YOUR THERAPIST HELP YOU:
Accidental overdose can be prevented by helping your helping professionals help you. I clearly recall my first two experiences with a therapist. My first experience was with an older, kindly gentleman. I’d been afraid of my anger one day when I’d shaken my six year old son who had just lit a candle and placed it underneath our infant daughter’s bed. I met with Al for a few sessions when he concluded that I was a fine parent and really had just needed someone to talk to. Immediately following our final therapy session, I went home, took three five milligram valium (about which he’d known nothing) and wrote Al an overly enthusiastic letter about my success with implementing the information I’d just finished reading in a self-help book I’d recently purchased at the local drug store. Little did Al know, I could barely remember what I’d read.
My second experience was just a few years later. I’d been living a nightmare in a bad marriage and had experienced thoughts of ending my life. Out of genuine fear that I might be tempted to act upon these thoughts, I decided to seek professional help. I intuitively realized that the levels of hopelessness and despair to which my mood had been plummeting rendered me in some very real danger. I searched the yellow pages and found a wonderful therapist. He was attentive, supportive and validating. Lord knows, I’d desperately needed to find all three qualities in a hurry. When he suggested an antidepressant medication, I knew that he’d recognized the severity of my emotional state. When he recommended ongoing therapy adding, “I don’t want you brought in here on a slab” for the first time in years, I felt my heart fill with hope. (My hope stemmed from the fact that I knew he’d not only heard, but fully realized my cry for help.) This validation was to carry me through the coming year at a time when I believe I very well might have otherwise reached the end of my rope.
Sadly, there existed a dangerously intrusive element about which I hadn’t told my therapist. That cunning and baffling saboteur was my (as yet undiagnosed) alcoholism and addiction to prescription drugs. Little did he know (and little did I know it mattered) that each evening as I’d ingest my antidepressant, I’d chase it with anywhere from one to four vodka gimlets. Then, of course, were the ongoing prescriptions for Fiorinal I was ingesting every four hours without fail for chronic headaches along with the occasional valium pill for anxiety.
In many ways, I’ve credited that therapist over the years with having been one of the guardian angels who contributed to saving my life. Indeed, he played a critical role in saving this addict from herself in that his compassion came at a time when no one else was able to show me any care and concern. Could I have helped my therapist help me more effectively though? Absolutely. Without informing him of a few of the most imperative pieces of information of all, could he have unknowingly contributed to the catch-22 in which I’d unwittingly become trapped by my addiction? Absolutely. In retrospect, this had been a classic case of the blind leading the blind. He could have known nothing about my addiction. His very sincere compassion provided me the glimpse of the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel I’d needed to go on fighting my exhausting battle with depression. However, needless to say, with my daily ingestion of my liquid central nervous system depressant, alcohol, the antidepressant medication he’d recommended was rendered useless. In a worst case scenario, could this have inadvertently resulted in an accidental overdose? Most definitely!
As for working through the issues he and I talked about, I was literally either too emotionally numb, or too busy riding a roller coaster of emotional highs and lows from my drug use to have been able to make any kind of progress therapeutically. Fortunately, with the searching that my ongoing misery led me to pursue, I finally located another of my guardian angels. This lady (a chemical dependency counselor) performed a merciful intervention on my addiction one morning at 2 A.M. It was that night that my addiction to pills and alcohol was “called out” into the open where it could be clearly identified, confronted and dealt with. Later that same morning, I admitted myself to a residential treatment hospital in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Thirty-three years later, here I am, still sober and extremely grateful. It was my fond memory of that therapist’s compassion for my emotional suffering that inspired me to move forward with my dream of helping other addicts find their way out of the nightmare of addiction. I returned to college not long after having gotten into recovery from addiction, divorced my alcoholic husband who refused to quit drinking and began to experience the richness and joy of a sober life. Don’t misunderstand, it’s not that my battle with addiction was easy, but having received the specialized treatment of my addiction counselor in treatment, I learned that I could face and deal with any problem that I encountered. It became exceedingly clear to me just how fortunate I am to be alive and to have been spared suffering the agony of having taken anyone else’s life on those small town roads I’d so haphazardly, repeatedly navigated while under the influence.
So . . . . here is where you, the client, must take responsibility for being your own advocate! You absolutely must be totally open with your therapist about every medication you take and the amounts and frequency with which you use mood-altering substances. Don’t take chances with your life. Accidents usually happen because someone has been careless. Know that accidental overdoses are exactly that . . . they’re accidents that happen because someone has been careless in neglecting to research the possible dangers of mixing their prescription medication with another mood-altering substance. Whenever two mood-altering substances are mixed, each intensifies the potency of the other! Any pharmacist will gladly answer any questions you might have about any drugs and/or their interactions with one another. They can also be easily “googled” on the internet. The necessity of taking responsibility for everything we put inside our bodies cannot be overstated.
Don’t take chances with your life.
Make it your business to be in-the-know!
© JC Eberhart and JC Eberhart’s Blog, 1974 – 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to JC Eberhart and JC Eberhart’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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MY NEWS:
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Licensed Drug and Alcohol Counselor Offers Minimal Cost On-Line Guidance to Freedom from Addiction
Escape the skyrocketing costs of professional fees and insurance companies. RecoveryFromAddictionWithoutWalls.com provides minimal cost guidance to freedom from addiction to drugs and alcohol. This service is provided in the privacy and comfort of the client's own home. It is provided at the convenience of the client's personal/professional schedule.
Monticello, Minnesota (PRWEB) August 15, 2009 -- Jeanie Cooke, LADC/JC Eberhart (pen name) is a Licensed Drug and Alcohol Counselor who has worked with clients suffering from addiction for many years. She has practiced in and around the Twin Cities area of Minnesota since 1980. Jeanie has dedicated the majority of her adult life to aiding others in their journeys to recovery after losing her own father to his opiate and alcohol addiction when she was eight years old.
Jeanie is also known by her pen name, JC Eberhart. She is currently working on a book to help parents of children and adolescents with addiction prevention and intervention information and tools and is a published free lance writer whose professionally written, published addiction articles can be found at:
http://www.healthmad.com/Addiction/Drinking-and-Drugs-He-Promised-to-Stay-Straight.848841
http://www.healthmad.com/Addiction/Prevent-Addiction-from-Destroying-You-and-Your-Family.153411
http://www.healthmad.com/Addiction/Overdose-Help-Your-Therapist-Help-You.804779
Jeanie's goal in building this website is three-fold: 1) to help others at a cost that is affordable; 2) to provide an alternative in this time of skyrocketing insurance costs and high costs for professional services, and 3) to share the countless blessings of her own journey through the pitfalls of her own life and recovery, coupled with her education, expertise and professional experience, with others who may be searching to find their way, now.
For additional information on the news that is the subject of this release (or for a sample, copy or demo), contact Jeanie Cooke, LADC.
About RecoveryFromAddictionWithoutWalls.com:
Jeanie studied at Mankato State University, Minneapolis Community College and at Metropolitan State University. She began her career working with addiction clients in 1980 at Fairview Deaconess Hospital in Mpls, MN. Jeanie has worked for the State of Minnesota Department of Corrections, State Department of Human Services, had a private practice in St. Louis Park, MN and now continues her work in Monticello, MN.
Contact:
Jeanie Cooke, LADC/JC Eberhart, Director of Public Relations
RecoveryFromAddictionWithoutWalls.com
763-482-9289
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MY FAVORITE LINKS:
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MY RESIDENCE INFO:
City: Monticello
State/Country: Minnesota, United States of America
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