I'll decide my worth

I want to start by saying that a tattoo studio is the last place that I ever thought I would get a shoulder to cry on and a group of friends to cry with, but I thank each and every one of you for the time that we got to spend together, and for taking the time to listen to my story.

I have existed in some form of "trade" or "service work" (yes, that's what I mean) since I turned 11 years old. My mother went through boyfriends quicker than socks, and each one was the same. They would start to "joke" about things we might try, or things that "prove" that someone loves you. I'd heard and seen them fight, so I wasn't about to be the reason that my mom got hurt or worse. I went along and did as I was asked.

It wasn't until I was physically restrained and only allowed out to "perform" that I knew that this wasn't "normal" .I escaped when I was turning 20 years old, and swore to myself that I would do everything in my power to help girls in my same situation. 

I found Fallen Heroes Tattoo through a friend that saw the "Redemption Ink" segment on a local news channel. It took about 3 months for me to even get the courage to ask about covering the "brands" that had accumulated over the years and now covered quite a bit of my right thigh. Most just burn marks or carvings that symbolized different "owners" that I had been traded or sold to. Your website didn't mention them, but they were embarrassing to me and I associated them with the worst times in my life. So I called.

It's not the pain of the original wounds or the pain of the tattoo that now covers them, but the happiness that set in as soon as I walked into your tattoo shop. I was met by Brenda and her husband, DB. They hugged me as if I was one of their own, we cried a bit while I shared my story, and then I was treated like a normal girl getting an awesome tattoo... I dont think you all will ever know what I mean by that... nothing to me is "normal"... you and your shop was very strange and very wonderful at the same time.

I hope that you are all still doing well, and wish only the very best in this life to every single person at Fallen Heroes. You are rare. You are amazing. You are what normal should be. Thanks again, and I will be back to say hello as soon as I can.

FROM A LOCAL FIREFIGHTER

This COVID thing has taken a toll.  I’ve held most every view held by others at some point during this crisis.  I’ve laughed at the issue, made what I would consider to be some great jokes, and I’ve gotten scared.  I think a lot of us are scared, and we show it a lot of different ways.  We’re afraid of losing jobs, education opportunities, long-anticipated milestones, political gain, life savings, family and friends.  And we deal with those fears in different ways. 

I was scared last night.  I used a suction device to maintain the airway of a trauma patient in the back of an ambulance. I “vacuumed-up” his secretions, placed a tube into his nose, and kept his oxygen/capnography tubing clear while he gurgled blood and sputum during transport to the other side of the moon (so it seemed).  The realization that the blood-stained bright blue gloves and re-used gown, along with uncomfortable facial protection, was all that was between myself and whatever was coming out of this persons mouth was very real.  The gown was in the way, the double-layered gloves diminished dexterity, the shield (donated graciously by someone) cut painfully into my forehead, goggles fogged and sliding, and I only hoped my moist mask still had a seal - because I wasn’t about to adjust any of it with my contaminated hands.  All this equipment, at once a great hindrance and pleasant security blanket I did not want to leave.  It’s not just my PPE, it’s my wife and kids’ as well.  These are scary times and doctors, nurses, EMTs, and firefighters do this every day.  What had been routine no longer is.

I suspect we’re all experiencing a bit of fear.  Fear is most intense when we cannot make sense of everything.  Especially when it affects our homes.  There is so much yet to know about this pandemic, and in an attempt to make sense of our worlds we convince ourselves we are well-informed after reading a few pieces from sources we already trust.  Those stories, no matter how uncomfortable the information is within them, provides each of us a bit of security and hope that we can make sense of things without stealing away convictions we hold dear.  Each of us becomes our own expert, not really because we think we know better than the next person - but because when we are threatened we need to believe we know something. 

I have deep opinions about the current events, but the deepest of those is that we hurt each other more, and jeopardize our ability to come out of this better, when we don’t love first.  And that takes listening before speaking, giving each other the benefit of the doubt, and caring about another’s well-being before caring about their position.  It’s an uncomfortable fact that life together (and we are only becoming closer together) requires a level of trust - even of those we don’t typically agree with.  The blaming, name-calling, exaggerations, and even the passing along of information we only hope to be true hurts us in the end.  Pray for unity (not uniformity), and work diligently to achieve it.

FAMILY

​I wanted to send you a "post tattoo" story. My Dad passed away in my early twenties and my Mom passed away in my early 30's. I grew up being very close to my brother. We did all sorts of crazy things together even though he was 14 years older than me. He was a brother, a father figure, and most of all my best friend. His battle with cancer came to the end in 2015. For years prior to his passing I thought of having a memorial tattoo for Mom and Dad. After my brother passed I knew I wanted one for all three. It took years of contemplating and investigating...finally this year Fallen Heroes was recommended to me. I was introduced to Lindsay Fernandez and we started collaborating. On Father's day this year she did the most amazing piece of artwork that i will treasure forever. When she was about 30 minutes from finishing I started thinking about my conversation with my brother the night before he passed. He was in hospice and he knew the end was near. I called my niece and talked with my brother for about 30 minutes. As this went thru my mind while Lindsay was finishing up the tears started to flow. When she was done and I saw the completed memorial I totally broke down. It is a blessing to have a piece of artwork with so much meaning. You all have a customer for life! I have gotten tons of compliments on this work...and looking forward to my next 2 or 3 or 10.

Do you have a story that you'd like to see shared on our wall? We would certainly love to hear it! Email us at [email protected] and let's hear it!