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First Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerThe Poor Clare Sisters appear to float as they walk towards the altar and prepare to kneel in a private chapel called The Choir where they pray several times a day in their cloistered monastery. The nuns live at the home of the Poor Clare Colettine Nuns, a medieval order of cloistered Roman Catholic sisters formed in the early 13th century by St. Clare of Assisi. The starkness of the images try to emulate the simplicity of their lives. Vows of simplicity, poverty, chastity, obedience and enclosure mark their outward attributes. Prayer and reverential silence fill their inner life.
First Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerThe Poor Clares pray constantly, during assigned hours and on behalf of petitioners seeking everything from good health to employment to loved ones serving war zones to missing pets. The nuns devote their lives to the perpetual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, the consecrated host, that in church teaching, is the living incarnation of the body of Jesus Christ.
First Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerSister Faustina, 23, the youngest nun in the cloister who is in her twenties, sweeps the halls every day in her cloistered living quarters.With the exception of a couple of extern nuns who run errands, answer telephone and meet with the public, the sisters never leave the convent save for medical treatment. Other contact with the outside world comes by way of the daily newspaper which is read by extern sisters.
First Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerDaily life is spartan. The sisters walk in bare feet. They dress in the traditional full habit: a linen headpiece topped by a veil and a gray-and-brown tunic cinched at the waist with a white knotted cord. Cloistered nuns wear four knots representing each of the vows they take.
First Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerThe sisters tease one another, tenderly, with the knowing familiarity of a closely knit family. "We're pretty free about laughing, even though we try to keep silence through the day, " Mother Dolores says. Some have lived with each other for 30 years. From left, Mother Dolores, Sister Chiara Francesca and Sister Therese laugh in the kitchen.
First Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerSister Maria, the cook for the monastery, makes creamed eggs in her cloistered living quarters. The Poor Clares dine humbly, taking a full meal only at midday, when eggs, cheese or fish provide protein. Meat is never permitted.
First Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerThe Crown of Thorns, which is presented to a Sister when she takes her solemn vows, looks over Mother Dolores as she reads the poetry of her favorite poet, Robert Frost, inside her frugal "cell", her bedroom, inside her cloistered living quarters.
First Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain Dealer For the Poor Clares' "everyday" breakfasts and suppers, Sister Chiara Francesca turns out wheaten loaves called Graham bread, which is served with margarine. In her former life, Sister Chiara was an obstetrics nurse.
First Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerSister Christina raises her hands up while holding her Rosary as she chants in the chapel. Nuns keep vigil around the clock.
First Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerSister Faustina, 23, is the youngest nun in the monastery. For many years, the Cleveland sisters numbered upward of 40 members. Today, the group numbers about 20 women. Some of the sisters entered the cloister as teenagers. Others pursued careers, dated and lived workaday lives for years before realizing their destiny.
First Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerMother Dolores enters The Choir, a chapel in her cloistered living quarters inside the Monastery of the Blessed Sacrament. The monastery was built in 1905 and the gleaming, spotless woodwork shows little wear.
Second Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain Dealer Connie Culp holds her new face up to feel the warmth of the sun outside her home in southeastern Ohio. "I'm blessed, you know, I really am," she says now that she has recovered from the first near-total face transplant in the U.S. "I say, 'Somebody really loves me up there.' " Culp, 47, is optimistic about her future while still recovering from the first face transplant in the United States at the Cleveland Clinic. On Dec. 10, 2008, Connie underwent 23 hours of surgery after she lost the middle of her face in the fall of 2004 when her husband shot her and then turned the gun on himself. It took eight surgeons, four anesthesiologists, more than 20 nurses and a long line of of assistants to complete the historic procedure. She survived two episodes of rejection.
Second Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerDr. Risal Djohan, a Cleveland Clinic plastic surgeon, looks over Connie Culp's transplanted face for signs of rejection and infection at a checkup in September. Connie's face muscles are slowly learning to smile, matching her sense of humor. And just as always, Connie makes him laugh. Months ago, he told her that she would look better than before. "Well this time, " she told him, "don't forget the boobs."
Second Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / Before the shooting, Connie was a fun-loving, Harley-riding, thumb-wrestling, small-town Ohio woman who found the good in everyone. After the shooting, the 112-pound, 5-foot-nothing woman just wanted the intense pain to stop. "I was taking 40 milligrams of oxycodone twice a day. Vicodin too and sleeping pills. I just wanted the pain to go away. "
Second Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerConnie Culp's daughter, Alicia, uses a straightening iron on her mother's hair while Alicia's son, Maddox, 3, helps out with a comb. Alicia says the texture of Connie's hair has changed because of her surgeries. Tom Culp, her common-law husband, shot her in the face in 2004 and left her with no right eye or nose, no lower eyelids, upper lip or top teeth. After doctors removed scar tissue, bone grafts, and metal from her previous surgeries, Culp received 80 percent of the face and underlying tissue of an organ donor.
Second Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerConnie, who is legally blind, uses her white cane while walking near her home in rural southern Ohio with her 3-year-old grandson, Maddox. The shooting that destroyed her face stole most of her vision, too, making it impossible for her to read, drive or work. "If I run into walls, I'm good at bouncing, " she says, humor in tact as always. Neighbors are used to Connie on the winding roads and slow down through her street.
Second Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / Connie helps Maddox with his guitar who loves all things music. Baby Girl, her dog, is never very far away.
Second Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerCleveland Clinic surgeon Bijan Eghtesad, a member of Connie Culp's transplant team, calms Connie's nerves before she gives a speech at an open house for the new offices of LifeBanc, the nonprofit organ and tissue recovery organization for Northeast Ohio. Connie hopes to give more speeches encouraging others to become organ and tissue donors.
Second Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain DealerHer speech over and her nervousness gone, Connie Culp is back to her old self, joking with guests at a reception after the opening of LifeBanc's new offices. Connie is becoming more comfortable floating around in different social circles of people, far removed from her rural, southern Ohio home.
Second Place, Feature Picture Story - Lisa DeJong / The Plain Dealer"I want to be remembered for sticking up for women," Connie Culp says. From her own experience, Connie is starting to speak out about domestic violence against women. "If a guy hits you once, he'll hit you again. If he calls you names and makes fun of you, you got to get out. It's only going to get worse." Tom Culp, her common-law husband, is scheduled to be released from jail for shooting her on Oct. 9, 2011. Is Connie worried? "No", she says. "Once you've been shot, you can go through anything."
Third Place, Feature picture story - Michael E. Keating / MIchael E. KeatingMaking faces is a favorite pasttime for Manny Evans. Manny Evans, 7, has lived five of his seven years as a resident of Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center. Diagnosed with neurofibromatosis the genetic disorder that forms tumors that surround nerves, Manny requires medical and nursing care beyond what can be provided in a residential environment. His mother chooses to let him live at the hospital instead of a residential center or nursing home. Manny recently began his schooling at Roselawn Condon School and a school bus picks him up each day in front of the hospital. A fleet of nurses, personal attendants and caregivers provide the love and care, emotionally and physically, often the responsibility of a parent.
Third Place, Feature picture story - Michael E. Keating / MIchael E. KeatingA nures gives Manny a much needed haircut, a scene not often played out in a hospital room. Manny Evans, 7, has lived five of his seven years as a resident of Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center. Diagnosed with neurofibromatosis the genetic disorder that forms tumors that surround nerves, Manny requires medical and nursing care beyond what can be provided in a residential environment. His mother chooses to let him live at the hospital instead of a residential center or nursing home. Manny recently began his schooling at Roselawn Condon School and a school bus picks him up each day in front of the hospital. A fleet of nurses, personal attendants and caregivers provide the love and care, emotionally and physically, often the responsibility of a parent.
Third Place, Feature picture story - Michael E. Keating / MIchael E. KeatingJust like every kid, a haircut is a bit of a bother. Manny Evans, 7, has lived five of his seven years as a resident of Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center. Diagnosed with neurofibromatosis the genetic disorder that forms tumors that surround nerves, Manny requires medical and nursing care beyond what can be provided in a residential environment. His mother chooses to let him live at the hospital instead of a residential center or nursing home. Manny recently began his schooling at Roselawn Condon School and a school bus picks him up each day in front of the hospital. A fleet of nurses, personal attendants and caregivers provide the love and care, emotionally and physically, often the responsibility of a parent.
Third Place, Feature Picture Story - Michael E. Keating / MIchael E. KeatingManny Evans, 7, has lived five of his seven years as a resident of Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center. Diagnosed with neurofibromatosis the genetic disorder that forms tumors that surround nerves, Manny requires medical and nursing care beyond what can be provided in a residential environment. His mother chooses to let him live at the hospital instead of a residential center or nursing home. Manny recently began his schooling at Roselawn Condon School and a school bus picks him up each day in front of the hospital. A fleet of nurses, personal attendants and caregivers provide the love and care, emotionally and physically, often the responsibility of a parent.
Third Place, Feature picture story - Michael E. Keating / MIchael E. KeatingManny Evans, 7, has lived five of his seven years as a resident of Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center. Diagnosed with neurofibromatosis the genetic disorder that forms tumors that surround nerves, Manny requires medical and nursing care beyond what can be provided in a residential environment. His mother chooses to let him live at the hospital instead of a residential center or nursing home. Manny recently began his schooling at Roselawn Condon School and a school bus picks him up each day in front of the hospital. A fleet of nurses, personal attendants and caregivers provide the love and care, emotionally and physically, often the responsibility of a parent.
