The heat brought on by summer sun screams for cool relief. Iola’s Dairy Queen, at 323 S. State St., can provide.
From March to November every year, owner operator Laura Baker and daughter Carla Baker satisfy that urge for sweet, creamy treats.
Laura Baker has owned the DQ since 2004, although the business had been at that location for years, she said.
“I purchased it because I thought it would be a fun venture,” Laura noted.
So far, it has been.
“If a customer isn’t happy when they come in the door,” Baker observed, “they are when they leave.” Something about ice cream makes people feel better, she noted.
It could be all the toppings.
Popular here is the pecan mudslide, she said. Pecans, caramel and hot fudge top DQ’s soft serve ice cream, making a gooey, delicious treat.
More than 200 recipes are taught to each of the store’s dozen employees. “And that’s not counting novelties,” Baker said.
Novelties — Dilly Bars, Buster Bars and ice cream sandwiches — are made fresh daily at the shop, Baker said.
“There’s less preservatives and no stabilizers” in the products that way, she said.
Butterscotch, cherry and chocolate Dilly Bar coatings also are used for dipped cones, while Buster Bars and Peanutbuster Parfaits both boast chocolate fudge and salted nuts.
Blizzards offer a world of flavors, including monthly specials available for a limited time only.
This year marks the 25th anniversary of the blended treat. The Bakers will offer Blizzard specials, as indicated by the parent company, throughout the year, they said. One such offering will be mini Blizzards.
Blizzard blends include cookie dough, Heath Bar, M&M, chocolate-covered strawberry and banana cream pie, among many others.
Any Blizzard flavor can be made into an ice-cream cake, Baker said.
Made in the shop, cakes can be special-order or ready-to-go. They run in price from $19.99 to $30.99, depending on size, flavor and decoration. Always on hand are Oreo, chocolate “Xtreme” and strawberry cheesecake. The cakes are all ice-cream, Baker noted, with no actual “cake” in them.
Ice-cream sheet cakes are becoming popular for weddings, too, Baker said.
She first began offering those a few years back, when a desperate call came from a local bride-to-be.
The woman’s baker had backed out, Baker said, and she needed a wedding cake in two days.
“We try to help people out,” Baker said.
She took the order.
This year, “we have an order of seven sheet cakes for a summer wedding,” she noted.
Cakes can be decorated in almost any fashion, even sporting photographs, Baker said, thanks to a printer that uses edible ink and rice paper. “We can put edible pictures on the cakes,” she said. “It can be a photo you bring to me.”
Baker prides her business on its product consistency and a well-trained staff. All DQ employees cross-train to learn about each product. Pins are offered as awards for customer service and product preparation.
New this year are lemonade and Chillers, a slush drink made with lemonade. Ever popular is the Arctic Rush, like a liquid snow cone sipped through a straw. Bright fruit flavors dominate the drinks.
For those who need something creamy, MooLattes offer a blend of coffee, ice cream and ice. “They’re addictive,” Baker warned.
DQ summer hours run 11 a.m. through 10:30 p.m. Monday through Saturday, and noon to 10:30 p.m. on Sunday.
“This will always be here,” Baker said of the ice cream shop. “The majority of the people in this community have some memory about Dairy Queen. It’s tradition.”
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Replace weeds with flowers — for free
The Northern Star Girl Scout troops would like to honor the Iola sesquicentennial, help beautify Iola and provide incentive to eradicate weeds all through one event. “We’re planting flowers to replace dandelions,” said Scout leader Marty Meadows.
On May 2, the troops will hold a “Dandelion Day” in the Iola Chamber of Commerce parking lot.
Anyone who “brings in dandelions, root and all,” will receive potted annuals or perennials for their garden, Meadows said. The number of flowers someone receives will depend on the number of weeds they bring in, Meadows said. The dandelions must still have the root attached to count, she said.
The Girl Scouts will hand out marigolds, hollyhocks, cocks’ comb and zinnias. Other flowers will be available as well. Dandelion Day is an official sesquicentennial event.
On May 2, the troops will hold a “Dandelion Day” in the Iola Chamber of Commerce parking lot.
Anyone who “brings in dandelions, root and all,” will receive potted annuals or perennials for their garden, Meadows said. The number of flowers someone receives will depend on the number of weeds they bring in, Meadows said. The dandelions must still have the root attached to count, she said.
The Girl Scouts will hand out marigolds, hollyhocks, cocks’ comb and zinnias. Other flowers will be available as well. Dandelion Day is an official sesquicentennial event.
Curves bucks trend
Iola Curves is bucking a business trend.
“The Curves in Chanute recently closed,” said Iola Curves owner Cindy Hesse, “but we’ve added 60 new members since the first of the year.”
Hesse is preparing to celebrate her first anniversary as owner of the women-only gym, which specializes in a 30-minute full body workout.
She attends quarterly training sessions to reinforce her knowledge of the Curves program, she said. That knowledge is necessary because the workout and machines used at the gym are unique to Curves, Hesse said.
“Gary Haven founded Curves and invented the machines specifically to fit women’s bodies,” Hesse said. The machines use hydraulic resistance rather than weights to offer strength training that Hesse said better suits a woman’s physique.
Since beginnning her own weight management program in January, Hesse has lost 57 pounds.
Perhaps it is her own involvement in the program that motivates other women who come to the club. Whatever the reason, the national Curves board noticed.
Hesse was recently given a “Shining Star” award from Curves International for being an outstanding franchise.
“There must be an 80 percent or higher satisfaction rate from club members to get the award,” Hesse said. The shining star also addresses “guest production” and member services.
Hesse will celebrate her one-year anniversary as owner of the club on Saturday with a luau-themed party from noon to 2 p.m. A weight-management-appropriate barbecue, games and free prizes will be part of the event. In addition, a representative from Silver Sneakers, a program wherein Medicare will pay for Curves memberships for seniors, will be on hand to discuss that program.
Saturday also marks Curves fourth year in Iola.
“The Curves in Chanute recently closed,” said Iola Curves owner Cindy Hesse, “but we’ve added 60 new members since the first of the year.”
Hesse is preparing to celebrate her first anniversary as owner of the women-only gym, which specializes in a 30-minute full body workout.
She attends quarterly training sessions to reinforce her knowledge of the Curves program, she said. That knowledge is necessary because the workout and machines used at the gym are unique to Curves, Hesse said.
“Gary Haven founded Curves and invented the machines specifically to fit women’s bodies,” Hesse said. The machines use hydraulic resistance rather than weights to offer strength training that Hesse said better suits a woman’s physique.
Since beginnning her own weight management program in January, Hesse has lost 57 pounds.
Perhaps it is her own involvement in the program that motivates other women who come to the club. Whatever the reason, the national Curves board noticed.
Hesse was recently given a “Shining Star” award from Curves International for being an outstanding franchise.
“There must be an 80 percent or higher satisfaction rate from club members to get the award,” Hesse said. The shining star also addresses “guest production” and member services.
Hesse will celebrate her one-year anniversary as owner of the club on Saturday with a luau-themed party from noon to 2 p.m. A weight-management-appropriate barbecue, games and free prizes will be part of the event. In addition, a representative from Silver Sneakers, a program wherein Medicare will pay for Curves memberships for seniors, will be on hand to discuss that program.
Saturday also marks Curves fourth year in Iola.
Curves Chicks perch at top of Meltdown
Some might say the Curves Chicks have a slight advantage. After all, as Curves members, they DO work out regularly at the women’s health club.
But other groups are working out regularly, too. So what makes these women the number one Meltdown team?
“Our team members,” said Renee LaRue, one of nine women who have lost a collective 100 pounds since the Meltdown began.
“It’s good that we’re doing it together, because if one doesn’t feel like going (to exercise), the others make her,” laughed Honey Whitcomb, another team member.
“We come to Curves at lest three times a week and we’ve been walking one or two breaks a day.” Whitcomb said. She and LaRue both work at the Kansas Department of Social and Rehabilitation Services, and walk around Iola’s square. Twice around the square’s perimeter equals a mile.
“We do at least a mile a day or two, if we can get both breaks in,” Whitcomb said.
Working out together keeps the women on task.
“When the Meltdown group comes in they know they’ll be held accountable,” said Curves owner and team member Cindy Hesse.
Each womoan gets a weekly weigh in and a monthly print out of her weight and inches lost. In addition, they take part in talk therapy to relieve the stress in their lives, said Hesse.
“It’s definitely stress release,” said Whitcomb. “Just being able to take 20 minutes to get away from the office and the phone calls. Your personal life can be stressful, too.”
“We take it out on the machines,” LaRue laughed.
“Cindy is great at getting us motivated,” Whitcomb said. “Especially since she’s going through the same thing herself trying to lose weight.”
Hesse admitted that’s true.
“Nine years ago we had a two-story house,” Hesse said. “I couldn’t go up and down the stairs anymore,” due to her weight and subsequent strain on her knees, she said. “We had to move to a single story home.”
Since beginning her own weight management program in January, Hesse said “I’ve lost so much weight I’ve been able to add walking to my routine. I walk 2 1/2 miles now,” she said.
“IT’S SO much easier to work out here, for a woman, than to go to a (coed) fitness club,” said Shirley Shaw. “It’s friendly.”
In fact, that friendliness is what got Shaw to join the Meltdown.
“I got diagnosed with diabetes this winter so I joined Curves,” Shaw said. As sole caregiver for her elderly mother, Shaw realized she had to start focussing on her own health. “I had to take care of me, so I would be here to take care of her,” she said. Everyone was so welcoming at Curves, she said, that “since I was losing weight already I decided to join the Meltdown team.”
“I’m not one who is able to follow a diet, so the exercise is good,” LaRue said of her reason for joining the Meltdown team.
The Curves rotation, 30 seconds each on 14 different machines interspersed with 90 second cardio rest periods, builds muscle, Hesse said. “And muscle burns calories.”
The whole workout is designed to be completed in 30 minutes. Plus, said LaRue, “you aren’t sore afterward” and “you don’t get sweaty.”
“That was one of my biggest concerns,” Whitcomb said. “Because I live 30 minutes away and I have to get my son from day care after work.”
THE WOMEN credit both the exercise and a meal plan espoused by Curves for their weight loss.
The meal plan is three-phased, said Hesse’s daughter Rhiannon, who works as a manager at Curves.
The first phase is high protein, low calorie, she said. The next phase increases calorie counts to 1,500 calories a day.
“You keep losing weight while working out,” the younger Hesse said.
That’s followed by a third phase, 2,000 calories a day “until you gain three pounds,” she said. Then you start the whole cycle again.
Cindy Hesse explained it’s not a continuous diet.
“You follow the plan for 30 days then you are off it for two to four weeks,” she said.
That slow go seems to avoid the pitfall of most dieters: sudden rebound into former eating habits.
“It’s not a diet plan,” said Hesse. “It just teaches you how to eat healthy” she said.
The meal plan teaches nutritional eating habits and offers low-calorie recipes. And it seems to work.
“We’re just making better food choices,” said LaRue.
It’s worked for Hesse, too.
“I’ve basically lost 35 pounds in 8 weeks over the course of four months,” she said.
The weight management class is open to all Meltdowners, Hesse said. The next classes are at 6 p.m June 4 and 11 a.m. June 6. It is free.
Hesse is also offering a membership special at Curves for Meltdowners. “If they join they don’t pay any sign up fee,” she said.
HESSE AND her team are serious about losing weight.
“Just having a place you can go to and get motivated” helps, Whitcomb said. Shaw repeated Curves motivational slogan: “I’m worth 30 minutes of my own time.” All the women agree with it.
They have been at the top of the Meltdown “loser list” all but one week since the county-wide program began. For most of the nine, it’s personal. For Hesse, there’s something more.
“I’m so glad to be able to participate in something that is going to bring g health to people,” she said.
But other groups are working out regularly, too. So what makes these women the number one Meltdown team?
“Our team members,” said Renee LaRue, one of nine women who have lost a collective 100 pounds since the Meltdown began.
“It’s good that we’re doing it together, because if one doesn’t feel like going (to exercise), the others make her,” laughed Honey Whitcomb, another team member.
“We come to Curves at lest three times a week and we’ve been walking one or two breaks a day.” Whitcomb said. She and LaRue both work at the Kansas Department of Social and Rehabilitation Services, and walk around Iola’s square. Twice around the square’s perimeter equals a mile.
“We do at least a mile a day or two, if we can get both breaks in,” Whitcomb said.
Working out together keeps the women on task.
“When the Meltdown group comes in they know they’ll be held accountable,” said Curves owner and team member Cindy Hesse.
Each womoan gets a weekly weigh in and a monthly print out of her weight and inches lost. In addition, they take part in talk therapy to relieve the stress in their lives, said Hesse.
“It’s definitely stress release,” said Whitcomb. “Just being able to take 20 minutes to get away from the office and the phone calls. Your personal life can be stressful, too.”
“We take it out on the machines,” LaRue laughed.
“Cindy is great at getting us motivated,” Whitcomb said. “Especially since she’s going through the same thing herself trying to lose weight.”
Hesse admitted that’s true.
“Nine years ago we had a two-story house,” Hesse said. “I couldn’t go up and down the stairs anymore,” due to her weight and subsequent strain on her knees, she said. “We had to move to a single story home.”
Since beginning her own weight management program in January, Hesse said “I’ve lost so much weight I’ve been able to add walking to my routine. I walk 2 1/2 miles now,” she said.
“IT’S SO much easier to work out here, for a woman, than to go to a (coed) fitness club,” said Shirley Shaw. “It’s friendly.”
In fact, that friendliness is what got Shaw to join the Meltdown.
“I got diagnosed with diabetes this winter so I joined Curves,” Shaw said. As sole caregiver for her elderly mother, Shaw realized she had to start focussing on her own health. “I had to take care of me, so I would be here to take care of her,” she said. Everyone was so welcoming at Curves, she said, that “since I was losing weight already I decided to join the Meltdown team.”
“I’m not one who is able to follow a diet, so the exercise is good,” LaRue said of her reason for joining the Meltdown team.
The Curves rotation, 30 seconds each on 14 different machines interspersed with 90 second cardio rest periods, builds muscle, Hesse said. “And muscle burns calories.”
The whole workout is designed to be completed in 30 minutes. Plus, said LaRue, “you aren’t sore afterward” and “you don’t get sweaty.”
“That was one of my biggest concerns,” Whitcomb said. “Because I live 30 minutes away and I have to get my son from day care after work.”
THE WOMEN credit both the exercise and a meal plan espoused by Curves for their weight loss.
The meal plan is three-phased, said Hesse’s daughter Rhiannon, who works as a manager at Curves.
The first phase is high protein, low calorie, she said. The next phase increases calorie counts to 1,500 calories a day.
“You keep losing weight while working out,” the younger Hesse said.
That’s followed by a third phase, 2,000 calories a day “until you gain three pounds,” she said. Then you start the whole cycle again.
Cindy Hesse explained it’s not a continuous diet.
“You follow the plan for 30 days then you are off it for two to four weeks,” she said.
That slow go seems to avoid the pitfall of most dieters: sudden rebound into former eating habits.
“It’s not a diet plan,” said Hesse. “It just teaches you how to eat healthy” she said.
The meal plan teaches nutritional eating habits and offers low-calorie recipes. And it seems to work.
“We’re just making better food choices,” said LaRue.
It’s worked for Hesse, too.
“I’ve basically lost 35 pounds in 8 weeks over the course of four months,” she said.
The weight management class is open to all Meltdowners, Hesse said. The next classes are at 6 p.m June 4 and 11 a.m. June 6. It is free.
Hesse is also offering a membership special at Curves for Meltdowners. “If they join they don’t pay any sign up fee,” she said.
HESSE AND her team are serious about losing weight.
“Just having a place you can go to and get motivated” helps, Whitcomb said. Shaw repeated Curves motivational slogan: “I’m worth 30 minutes of my own time.” All the women agree with it.
They have been at the top of the Meltdown “loser list” all but one week since the county-wide program began. For most of the nine, it’s personal. For Hesse, there’s something more.
“I’m so glad to be able to participate in something that is going to bring g health to people,” she said.
Without
My heart left Iola this weekend.
My two boys went to spend the summer in Montana with their dad.
Jacob was eager for the change, counting down the days since school got out ‘til he could see his friends, play board games left behind, swim rivers thick with speckled trout, with currents cold and deadly.
Owen saw some value here, saying, “I like Kansas.”
Knowing he’ll return, he left behind his Legos, his Bionicles, his box of art supplies — and a score of drawings to keep me company.
“I’ll miss you,” I said as I hugged him goodbye.
“You have my pictures to look at,” he diplomatically replied.
Tonight, I’ll rearrange the corkboard where the boys’ drawings hang, take down those that look like winter and put up the colorful new ones, where everyone is smiling. Raindrops grin as they fall from jagged clouds, sunbeams smile on bright-toothed flowers. All the pictures are happy. And he’s right: they’ll keep me company, because I’ll see him whenever I look their way.
I know this summer will be good for them. After too many years of my acting as both mother and father, we’ll all get a break. And the boys will wrestle with a man they love.
They’ll shop the farmer’s market, where local organic produce abounds. Where Lori the Lavender Lady, who grows only that scented herb, will spritz them with fragrant water as they stop to say hello. Where breads like cheese and onion, caramel apple and rustic pan Italia have replaced the plate-sized cinnamon rolls that once were a Saturday staple.
They will walk trails through mountain cedar and lemon-scented wild ginger. Soak in hot springs tucked in river bends, watched by mama moose.
They’ll listen to homegrown music at one of many summer festivals. Eat tacos from a roadside stand and giant rainbow sno-cones topped with outlandish paper umbrellas.
Owen will roll down “the rolling hill,” a tall green berm above the Clark Fork River. Below him, kayakers will play in a standing wave, constructed in the river for their sport.
They left with stories to tell their friends, of birds as red as tongues of fire, as blue as drops of sky.
They left having lived through their first tornado warning, where at 2 p.m. the sky went dark. Winds whipped and the house was pelted with hail like rocks on a clay bowl. We cleared an interior closet and wondered at the illogic of houses with no basements in a tornado-prone zone and listened as sirens wailed through a brightening sky.
They left having seen fireflies, a bug known only in fables in the cold, arid west.
The night before they left we down near the river, clean spaghetti sauce jar in hand, to try to catch the flying lights. To his disappointment, I wouldn’t let Owen run into the sodden fields the fireflies seemed to prefer. I knew the fields were full of poison ivy, a plant I have a terrific allergy to. I don’t know if the boys are so afflicted: I’ve kept them from the stuff. I didn’t think his last night was the one to find out if he is susceptible.
And now he’s off, back to a place where it doesn’t matter. In 23 years there, I saw the plant once. As with the fireflies, Montana is too dry for it to grow.
My heart left Iola; I am left with a house of silence.
For all my nagging to be quiet when I’m tired, or stop arguing and pick up toys, the solitude of a house full of the boys’ things, but without them, is almost too much too bear.
It seems an impossibly large hollow they left behind. When they left, they unwittingly took a huge chunk of my spirit.
In 30 days, I’ll go and fetch it back.
My two boys went to spend the summer in Montana with their dad.
Jacob was eager for the change, counting down the days since school got out ‘til he could see his friends, play board games left behind, swim rivers thick with speckled trout, with currents cold and deadly.
Owen saw some value here, saying, “I like Kansas.”
Knowing he’ll return, he left behind his Legos, his Bionicles, his box of art supplies — and a score of drawings to keep me company.
“I’ll miss you,” I said as I hugged him goodbye.
“You have my pictures to look at,” he diplomatically replied.
Tonight, I’ll rearrange the corkboard where the boys’ drawings hang, take down those that look like winter and put up the colorful new ones, where everyone is smiling. Raindrops grin as they fall from jagged clouds, sunbeams smile on bright-toothed flowers. All the pictures are happy. And he’s right: they’ll keep me company, because I’ll see him whenever I look their way.
I know this summer will be good for them. After too many years of my acting as both mother and father, we’ll all get a break. And the boys will wrestle with a man they love.
They’ll shop the farmer’s market, where local organic produce abounds. Where Lori the Lavender Lady, who grows only that scented herb, will spritz them with fragrant water as they stop to say hello. Where breads like cheese and onion, caramel apple and rustic pan Italia have replaced the plate-sized cinnamon rolls that once were a Saturday staple.
They will walk trails through mountain cedar and lemon-scented wild ginger. Soak in hot springs tucked in river bends, watched by mama moose.
They’ll listen to homegrown music at one of many summer festivals. Eat tacos from a roadside stand and giant rainbow sno-cones topped with outlandish paper umbrellas.
Owen will roll down “the rolling hill,” a tall green berm above the Clark Fork River. Below him, kayakers will play in a standing wave, constructed in the river for their sport.
They left with stories to tell their friends, of birds as red as tongues of fire, as blue as drops of sky.
They left having lived through their first tornado warning, where at 2 p.m. the sky went dark. Winds whipped and the house was pelted with hail like rocks on a clay bowl. We cleared an interior closet and wondered at the illogic of houses with no basements in a tornado-prone zone and listened as sirens wailed through a brightening sky.
They left having seen fireflies, a bug known only in fables in the cold, arid west.
The night before they left we down near the river, clean spaghetti sauce jar in hand, to try to catch the flying lights. To his disappointment, I wouldn’t let Owen run into the sodden fields the fireflies seemed to prefer. I knew the fields were full of poison ivy, a plant I have a terrific allergy to. I don’t know if the boys are so afflicted: I’ve kept them from the stuff. I didn’t think his last night was the one to find out if he is susceptible.
And now he’s off, back to a place where it doesn’t matter. In 23 years there, I saw the plant once. As with the fireflies, Montana is too dry for it to grow.
My heart left Iola; I am left with a house of silence.
For all my nagging to be quiet when I’m tired, or stop arguing and pick up toys, the solitude of a house full of the boys’ things, but without them, is almost too much too bear.
It seems an impossibly large hollow they left behind. When they left, they unwittingly took a huge chunk of my spirit.
In 30 days, I’ll go and fetch it back.
CLO helps adults live independently
Community Living Opportunities helps clients with developmental disabilities find employment, engage in volunteer activities and generally live as independently as possible as full community members.
The agency also offers home support for those who desire it, said Site Director Jodie Kaufman.
“A lot of people wonder what we do,” said Home Coach Halee Miller.
CLO provides Home and Community Based Services programs.
Team leaders “meet with consumers about needs, problems, issues and provide behavioral support,” said Team Leader Matt Stuckey.
CLO tries to tailor its services to client interests.
“We have several who are just chomping at the bit waiting for Allen County Rescue Facility to open,” Kaufman said, so that they might help out at the new animal shelter. Fishing outings are also popular with those needing services, Miller said.
“Most of the folks we serve in Iola are dually diagnosed with mental and behavioral issues,” Kaufman noted.
Occasionally, she said, clients have run-ins with law enforcement due to how they work in the world. Developmentally disabled adults may have boundary issues, or not fully understand right from wrong, she said.
At such times, “We work with the city attorney to develop appropriate community service” opportunities for such clients. “We do a lot of behavior programs as well.”
Clients get training in “job readiness skills such as attendance, punctuality, respectful behavior and understanding personal boundaries,” Kaufman said.
But, Kaufman emphasized, clients are “Responsible for their own actions. We don’t have control over (them). They’re adults. They pay us for our service to them. They are individuals and CLO is there to assist them.”
CLO uses incentives to enhance positive behavior, such as trips to the Kansas Museum of History in Topeka, Schlitterbahn water park in Kansas City and Union Station in Kansas City to see the “Dinosaurs Unearthed” exhibit. “In October, we’re going to the NASCAR qualifying races,” Stuckey said.
Clients go to Iola’s municipal swimming pool in the summer and swim in Burlington at the Recreation Center when outdoor pools are closed. “In the summer, we really try to get out as much as possible,” Miller said.
“We go to the Humboldt Community Recreation Building and use their walking trail” when weather precludes outdoor activities, she said.
Clients also engage in hobbies such as knotting blankets, woodworking, scrapbooking and faith based activities.
“We’ve never had a problem with our clients being accepted” at local churches or community service groups, Kaufman said.
Stuckey said that “garage saling on Saturdays is a big ritual” for some clients.
In addition, they volunteer to assist with elderly, with meals on wheels, doing yard work and at their places of worship.
“We are fortunate there are a lot of people in Iola who are tolerant and who are patient,” Miller said.
Kaufman explained that most CLO clients “live independently In Iola. For the last two years, we’ve been doing a semi-independent apartment program. Typically, we have someone with them doing a visual connect during the waking hours every fifteen minutes,” she said.
That person “support(s) the individuals in their home in daily living tasks such as cooking, cleaning and personal care,” Stuckey noted.
In addition, “We have something unique in our agency — we have cameras in all our residential areas that monitor public areas (such as doors and appliances) in the overnight hours,” Kaufman said.
Video is fed to a central office in Lawrence which can contact a local staff member on call if a problem arises.
“Another service we provide is Targeted Case Management,” wherein CLO assists clients in receiving help from other agencies, and “ensures those services are being provided appropriately,” Kaufman added.
CLO has been in existence in Douglas and Johnson counties for more than 30 years, Kaufman said.
“We started with targeted case management in Allen County in late 2003. We added consumers in Neosho County in 2004, and residential consumers in Allen County in 2005.”
All community service providers have to be affiliated with the Community Developmental Disability Organization (CDDO) in their catchment area to provide service, Kaufman noted. Here, the CDDO is TriValley Developmental Services Corporation.
“TriValley is assigned by the state to be the local coordinator of all developmental disability services,” Kaufman explained.
“We serve TriValley’s catchment area, which is Allen, Neosho, Woodson and Bourbon counties. We have residential programs in Allen and Neosho counties and do targeted case management in all four counties,” Kaufman said.
In Iola and Chanute, 18 clients receive direct services. About 50 to 60 receive targeted case management services in the four county area.
Although it is affiliated with TriValley, CLO receives no funding through them, she said. “All our funding is either through private pay or Medicaid,” she said.
“When funding got cut, we had to make adjustments,” Kaufman said, referring to the recent 10 percent cut to Medicaid service providers.
A new nursing home bed tax meant to reimburse some providers will not apply to CLO, she said.
“We worked hard not to let funding cuts impact direct services,” she said. “So we cut administrative positions. We did not cut a single direct care position.”
Despite the loss of funding, Kaufman said, employees are dedicated to CLO.
Many employees have been with the agency for a decade or more, she added.
And, she noted, “The people who started CLO are still with CLO. One is our executive director; two are board members.”
The agency also offers home support for those who desire it, said Site Director Jodie Kaufman.
“A lot of people wonder what we do,” said Home Coach Halee Miller.
CLO provides Home and Community Based Services programs.
Team leaders “meet with consumers about needs, problems, issues and provide behavioral support,” said Team Leader Matt Stuckey.
CLO tries to tailor its services to client interests.
“We have several who are just chomping at the bit waiting for Allen County Rescue Facility to open,” Kaufman said, so that they might help out at the new animal shelter. Fishing outings are also popular with those needing services, Miller said.
“Most of the folks we serve in Iola are dually diagnosed with mental and behavioral issues,” Kaufman noted.
Occasionally, she said, clients have run-ins with law enforcement due to how they work in the world. Developmentally disabled adults may have boundary issues, or not fully understand right from wrong, she said.
At such times, “We work with the city attorney to develop appropriate community service” opportunities for such clients. “We do a lot of behavior programs as well.”
Clients get training in “job readiness skills such as attendance, punctuality, respectful behavior and understanding personal boundaries,” Kaufman said.
But, Kaufman emphasized, clients are “Responsible for their own actions. We don’t have control over (them). They’re adults. They pay us for our service to them. They are individuals and CLO is there to assist them.”
CLO uses incentives to enhance positive behavior, such as trips to the Kansas Museum of History in Topeka, Schlitterbahn water park in Kansas City and Union Station in Kansas City to see the “Dinosaurs Unearthed” exhibit. “In October, we’re going to the NASCAR qualifying races,” Stuckey said.
Clients go to Iola’s municipal swimming pool in the summer and swim in Burlington at the Recreation Center when outdoor pools are closed. “In the summer, we really try to get out as much as possible,” Miller said.
“We go to the Humboldt Community Recreation Building and use their walking trail” when weather precludes outdoor activities, she said.
Clients also engage in hobbies such as knotting blankets, woodworking, scrapbooking and faith based activities.
“We’ve never had a problem with our clients being accepted” at local churches or community service groups, Kaufman said.
Stuckey said that “garage saling on Saturdays is a big ritual” for some clients.
In addition, they volunteer to assist with elderly, with meals on wheels, doing yard work and at their places of worship.
“We are fortunate there are a lot of people in Iola who are tolerant and who are patient,” Miller said.
Kaufman explained that most CLO clients “live independently In Iola. For the last two years, we’ve been doing a semi-independent apartment program. Typically, we have someone with them doing a visual connect during the waking hours every fifteen minutes,” she said.
That person “support(s) the individuals in their home in daily living tasks such as cooking, cleaning and personal care,” Stuckey noted.
In addition, “We have something unique in our agency — we have cameras in all our residential areas that monitor public areas (such as doors and appliances) in the overnight hours,” Kaufman said.
Video is fed to a central office in Lawrence which can contact a local staff member on call if a problem arises.
“Another service we provide is Targeted Case Management,” wherein CLO assists clients in receiving help from other agencies, and “ensures those services are being provided appropriately,” Kaufman added.
CLO has been in existence in Douglas and Johnson counties for more than 30 years, Kaufman said.
“We started with targeted case management in Allen County in late 2003. We added consumers in Neosho County in 2004, and residential consumers in Allen County in 2005.”
All community service providers have to be affiliated with the Community Developmental Disability Organization (CDDO) in their catchment area to provide service, Kaufman noted. Here, the CDDO is TriValley Developmental Services Corporation.
“TriValley is assigned by the state to be the local coordinator of all developmental disability services,” Kaufman explained.
“We serve TriValley’s catchment area, which is Allen, Neosho, Woodson and Bourbon counties. We have residential programs in Allen and Neosho counties and do targeted case management in all four counties,” Kaufman said.
In Iola and Chanute, 18 clients receive direct services. About 50 to 60 receive targeted case management services in the four county area.
Although it is affiliated with TriValley, CLO receives no funding through them, she said. “All our funding is either through private pay or Medicaid,” she said.
“When funding got cut, we had to make adjustments,” Kaufman said, referring to the recent 10 percent cut to Medicaid service providers.
A new nursing home bed tax meant to reimburse some providers will not apply to CLO, she said.
“We worked hard not to let funding cuts impact direct services,” she said. “So we cut administrative positions. We did not cut a single direct care position.”
Despite the loss of funding, Kaufman said, employees are dedicated to CLO.
Many employees have been with the agency for a decade or more, she added.
And, she noted, “The people who started CLO are still with CLO. One is our executive director; two are board members.”
Back to Basics for First Baptist
Bucking what might be a national trend towards flashier or multi-media services, Iola’s First Baptist Church is staying traditional — and seeing growth because of it.
“When I came we were averaging 90 in worship” on Sundays, said Pastor Mike Quinn, who has been at the church about a year and a half. “In the past six months, we’ve averaged 120. I think we’re growing because we’re reaching out,” Quinn said.
The church has a focus group, “God Rewards Our Work,” that devotes Tuesday evenings to home visits, letter writing and phone calls to former members, visitors or those recommended by congregants.
The church also implemented a Southern Baptist Convention program, “God’s Plan of Sharing” during the Easter season, wherein each church goer was to spread the word of God through their daily lives.
In addition, Quinn said, “the first two Saturdays of March we walked through the community and we prayed at each house as we went by.”
Quinn said his group didn’t know the householders, but merely offered prayer for whatever needs those inside each dwelling might have. Then, “the next two Saturdays, we hung door hangers with a gospel presentation” — a Scripture verse, Quinn explained — and an invitation to church. About 1,000 hangers were left on doors around Iola, he said.
On Easter Sunday, almost 230 people attended services, Quinn said.
“We’ve made some contact,” he observed.
“Another thing we’ve tried to do is reach into the college,” Quinn noted. “We’re working with Campus Crusade for Christ ministry,” he said. Also, the church “started a new Sunday school class for college-age kids,” Quinn said. That meets at 9:30 a.m. at the church at 801 N. Cottonwood, along with its other classes broken into age groups including preschool, adult and senior citizen.
First Baptist does some promotion of the class on campus, Quinn said, and other outreach there such as a dinner on April 27.
“There wasn’t any pressure,” Quinn said of the meal. “They just came, had supper and had a good time.”
To capitalize on the interest, the church recently hired a youth pastor to work 20 hours a week.
“It’s really the 40 to 50 years olds that we’re shortest on,” Quinn’s wife, Becky, said.
Becky Quinn works as the church secretary and keeps track of attendance.
“We’re reaching all age groups,” though, she noted, with the greatest attendance in the 55-and-up range. Children and 18- to 34-year-olds also boast high attendance numbers. Youth in grades seven to 12 attend only slightly less.
That troubling middle-aged group is six to seven times smaller than the others, though, she said.
Neither of the Quinns could explain why, unless it had to do with commitment to family, they said.
“I don’t think churches should expect young families to be very involved in running the church” Becky Quinn said. At that age, she said, “Your children are your biggest ministry.”
MIKE QUINN entered the ministry in 1986. His family was never very religious, he said.
When “in 1983 I left to go to the seminary, I didn’t know the Bible or anything like that,” Quinn said.
It was a series of deaths that led Quinn away from — and back to — God.
Before his conversion, Quinn’s only experience with church came through a friend.
“His mom would take us to Vacation Bible School,” Quinn said. “But he was killed at 15 and I turned hard toward the things of God.”
Quinn’s father was not a man of God. Instead of church, the family would go fishing on Sundays.
He was hard-working, hard-drinking, Quinn said. “He was a big guy, rough and tough. I idolized my dad. Growing up, I wanted to be just like him.”
And so, more or less, Quinn was.
Quinn worked construction at the Callaway County Nuclear Power Plant in Missouri.
“We drank every day after work,” Quinn noted. Then, in the course of 1 1/2 years when Quinn was in his mid-20s, he lost four of his best friends.
“Two were shot and killed in a bar in Jefferson City, Mo., one drowned in a pond and one burned to death in a house fire,” Quinn said.
The loss was shaking.
“I looked around there wasn’t anybody left but me in that group.”
About that time, he said, “there was a pastor who moved into our community. He started visiting with me and I didn’t want anything to do with him.”
Quinn would hide in the closet, he said, and wait until his wife told him the man had gone.
“Just about every time something happened, he’d show up — and he didn’t know about it,” Quinn noted.
The coincidence got to be too much for Quinn.
“It caused me to think about death and if there is life after death, where would I end up? I knew I wasn’t right with God.”
Quinn spoke to the man.
“He shared how God forgives your sins and it didn’t matter what you’d done.”
Quinn believed.
“I didn’t see lightning or hear voices,” he said. But he was changed.
“The next night was Friday night and after work we stopped to get our liquor and I got a Pepsi,” Quinn noted.
His fellow workers made fun of him.
“They asked me what happened and I told them a preacher stopped by and I accepted Christ and that I didn’t think God wanted me to drink anymore — They said it would never stick.”
That was 1980. Quinn hasn’t had any alcohol since.
Shortly thereafter, Quinn said, his father threw him a birthday bash. He pressured Quinn to drink. Quinn went inside and told his wife to pray.
About six months later, his father, too, accepted Christ.
His son’s refusal to drink affected him, Quinn said. “He told me, ‘Whatever you’d gotten, I needed it.’”
QUINN’S CHURCH offers a Wednesday evening program, TeamKid, that pulls in children like he was, he said.
“We’ve got kids who come whose families are not members here.” Many don’t attend church at all, he said.
The program attracts students from kindergarten through grade 12, he said.
“I think for the most part (they attend) because it’s Christ-based,” he said of the program.
“Iola is more conservative” than Quinn’s home town between Jefferson City and Columbia, Mo., “but as a rule there’s a vast loss and spiritual darkness — not only here, but everywhere,” Quinn said. “I see that as a major concern as a pastor.”
Although church attendance surged post 9/11, Quinn doesn’t “think it lasted very long. Things just went back to where they were.”
Quinn believes the role of the pastor is “to get Christ to people. It’s the gospel that changes lives and transforms lives.”
To that end, he is exploring additional outreach opportunities.
“We’ve thought about doing a discipleship class on financial planning or parenting or marriage strengthening,” Becky said. Plans for a six-to-eight week Sunday evening program are tentative right now, she said, but in the works.
“I think typically across the board people are doing away with Sunday night services because people just don’t come back for them,” Mike said. A Sunday evening class would draw a different crowd, the Quinns believe.
“It’s just finding someone to lead who is capable of doing that,” she said.
As for the Wednesday night kids program, “We keep the youth group up all summer,” Mike said. And, “We have a gym; that’s a nice draw for the kids.”
Other venues of participation open at First Baptist are music worship teams, fellowship teams which plan monthly suppers, ministry teams that visit the sick, homebound and those in nursing homes, and an evangelism/mission team that deals with mission projects and spending of church funds, Quinn said. “The goal is to get everybody involved in some sort of ministry,” Quinn said.
As a pastor, Quinn listens to congregants, he said.
“They have ideas and I have ideas and we bounce them off each other. I believe if we do a few things and do them well, they please the Lord.”
Each day, Quinn spends about an hour studying the Bible, then does additional research for a total of 15 to 20 hours per week prep time for his Sunday sermon, he said.
“I look online to get illustrations” and use “books that inspire me or preach through a book of the bible,” Quinn said.
“The Bible talks about getting the whole council of God. That makes me deal with passages that are harder. I try to take it in its historical and grammatical context and how we can apply that to day — what’s it really saying — then and to us? And now that we’ve heard it, what are we going to do with it” Quinn asked.
Quinn said his greatest role is to facillitate the healing of families.
“It’s not what I do; it’s what He does,” Quinn said.
“When I came we were averaging 90 in worship” on Sundays, said Pastor Mike Quinn, who has been at the church about a year and a half. “In the past six months, we’ve averaged 120. I think we’re growing because we’re reaching out,” Quinn said.
The church has a focus group, “God Rewards Our Work,” that devotes Tuesday evenings to home visits, letter writing and phone calls to former members, visitors or those recommended by congregants.
The church also implemented a Southern Baptist Convention program, “God’s Plan of Sharing” during the Easter season, wherein each church goer was to spread the word of God through their daily lives.
In addition, Quinn said, “the first two Saturdays of March we walked through the community and we prayed at each house as we went by.”
Quinn said his group didn’t know the householders, but merely offered prayer for whatever needs those inside each dwelling might have. Then, “the next two Saturdays, we hung door hangers with a gospel presentation” — a Scripture verse, Quinn explained — and an invitation to church. About 1,000 hangers were left on doors around Iola, he said.
On Easter Sunday, almost 230 people attended services, Quinn said.
“We’ve made some contact,” he observed.
“Another thing we’ve tried to do is reach into the college,” Quinn noted. “We’re working with Campus Crusade for Christ ministry,” he said. Also, the church “started a new Sunday school class for college-age kids,” Quinn said. That meets at 9:30 a.m. at the church at 801 N. Cottonwood, along with its other classes broken into age groups including preschool, adult and senior citizen.
First Baptist does some promotion of the class on campus, Quinn said, and other outreach there such as a dinner on April 27.
“There wasn’t any pressure,” Quinn said of the meal. “They just came, had supper and had a good time.”
To capitalize on the interest, the church recently hired a youth pastor to work 20 hours a week.
“It’s really the 40 to 50 years olds that we’re shortest on,” Quinn’s wife, Becky, said.
Becky Quinn works as the church secretary and keeps track of attendance.
“We’re reaching all age groups,” though, she noted, with the greatest attendance in the 55-and-up range. Children and 18- to 34-year-olds also boast high attendance numbers. Youth in grades seven to 12 attend only slightly less.
That troubling middle-aged group is six to seven times smaller than the others, though, she said.
Neither of the Quinns could explain why, unless it had to do with commitment to family, they said.
“I don’t think churches should expect young families to be very involved in running the church” Becky Quinn said. At that age, she said, “Your children are your biggest ministry.”
MIKE QUINN entered the ministry in 1986. His family was never very religious, he said.
When “in 1983 I left to go to the seminary, I didn’t know the Bible or anything like that,” Quinn said.
It was a series of deaths that led Quinn away from — and back to — God.
Before his conversion, Quinn’s only experience with church came through a friend.
“His mom would take us to Vacation Bible School,” Quinn said. “But he was killed at 15 and I turned hard toward the things of God.”
Quinn’s father was not a man of God. Instead of church, the family would go fishing on Sundays.
He was hard-working, hard-drinking, Quinn said. “He was a big guy, rough and tough. I idolized my dad. Growing up, I wanted to be just like him.”
And so, more or less, Quinn was.
Quinn worked construction at the Callaway County Nuclear Power Plant in Missouri.
“We drank every day after work,” Quinn noted. Then, in the course of 1 1/2 years when Quinn was in his mid-20s, he lost four of his best friends.
“Two were shot and killed in a bar in Jefferson City, Mo., one drowned in a pond and one burned to death in a house fire,” Quinn said.
The loss was shaking.
“I looked around there wasn’t anybody left but me in that group.”
About that time, he said, “there was a pastor who moved into our community. He started visiting with me and I didn’t want anything to do with him.”
Quinn would hide in the closet, he said, and wait until his wife told him the man had gone.
“Just about every time something happened, he’d show up — and he didn’t know about it,” Quinn noted.
The coincidence got to be too much for Quinn.
“It caused me to think about death and if there is life after death, where would I end up? I knew I wasn’t right with God.”
Quinn spoke to the man.
“He shared how God forgives your sins and it didn’t matter what you’d done.”
Quinn believed.
“I didn’t see lightning or hear voices,” he said. But he was changed.
“The next night was Friday night and after work we stopped to get our liquor and I got a Pepsi,” Quinn noted.
His fellow workers made fun of him.
“They asked me what happened and I told them a preacher stopped by and I accepted Christ and that I didn’t think God wanted me to drink anymore — They said it would never stick.”
That was 1980. Quinn hasn’t had any alcohol since.
Shortly thereafter, Quinn said, his father threw him a birthday bash. He pressured Quinn to drink. Quinn went inside and told his wife to pray.
About six months later, his father, too, accepted Christ.
His son’s refusal to drink affected him, Quinn said. “He told me, ‘Whatever you’d gotten, I needed it.’”
QUINN’S CHURCH offers a Wednesday evening program, TeamKid, that pulls in children like he was, he said.
“We’ve got kids who come whose families are not members here.” Many don’t attend church at all, he said.
The program attracts students from kindergarten through grade 12, he said.
“I think for the most part (they attend) because it’s Christ-based,” he said of the program.
“Iola is more conservative” than Quinn’s home town between Jefferson City and Columbia, Mo., “but as a rule there’s a vast loss and spiritual darkness — not only here, but everywhere,” Quinn said. “I see that as a major concern as a pastor.”
Although church attendance surged post 9/11, Quinn doesn’t “think it lasted very long. Things just went back to where they were.”
Quinn believes the role of the pastor is “to get Christ to people. It’s the gospel that changes lives and transforms lives.”
To that end, he is exploring additional outreach opportunities.
“We’ve thought about doing a discipleship class on financial planning or parenting or marriage strengthening,” Becky said. Plans for a six-to-eight week Sunday evening program are tentative right now, she said, but in the works.
“I think typically across the board people are doing away with Sunday night services because people just don’t come back for them,” Mike said. A Sunday evening class would draw a different crowd, the Quinns believe.
“It’s just finding someone to lead who is capable of doing that,” she said.
As for the Wednesday night kids program, “We keep the youth group up all summer,” Mike said. And, “We have a gym; that’s a nice draw for the kids.”
Other venues of participation open at First Baptist are music worship teams, fellowship teams which plan monthly suppers, ministry teams that visit the sick, homebound and those in nursing homes, and an evangelism/mission team that deals with mission projects and spending of church funds, Quinn said. “The goal is to get everybody involved in some sort of ministry,” Quinn said.
As a pastor, Quinn listens to congregants, he said.
“They have ideas and I have ideas and we bounce them off each other. I believe if we do a few things and do them well, they please the Lord.”
Each day, Quinn spends about an hour studying the Bible, then does additional research for a total of 15 to 20 hours per week prep time for his Sunday sermon, he said.
“I look online to get illustrations” and use “books that inspire me or preach through a book of the bible,” Quinn said.
“The Bible talks about getting the whole council of God. That makes me deal with passages that are harder. I try to take it in its historical and grammatical context and how we can apply that to day — what’s it really saying — then and to us? And now that we’ve heard it, what are we going to do with it” Quinn asked.
Quinn said his greatest role is to facillitate the healing of families.
“It’s not what I do; it’s what He does,” Quinn said.
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