This week we present two stories of people who had to figure out how to continue life after loss.

Part 1: Lawrence Green wakes up in a hospital room to find that he’s sustained devastating injuries in a motorcycle accident.

Lawrence Green joined the United States Army as a Wheeled Vehicle Mechanic in 2008. During his time served, he was stationed in South Korea, then Fort Hood, TX and eventually deployed to Iraq for about a year before being honorably discharged in 2012. Post-service, Lawrence used his mechanic experience to work as a Heavy Equipment Technician before his life changed forever on March 29, 2015. Determined to find a renewed purpose after his injuries, he connected with Adaptive Training Foundation while still very atrophied and with a wound vac on his left limb. He began participating in a few classes over a 2-year period of time and enjoyed it so much he eventually became a volunteer trainer at ATF. Lawrence is now pursuing his personal training certification to continue his love of fitness. Through ATF, he fell in love with Para Ice Hockey and joined the Dallas Stars Sled Hockey Team. He has big goals set for himself and hopes to make the Paralympic team in 2022.

Part 2: After tragedy strikes her family, Camille Adams Jones must find a way to confront her own trauma.

Dr. Camille Adams Jones, LMSW, CEAP, PMP, is a recognized psychotherapist in the Washington, DC metropolitan area. Dr. Jones earned her doctoral degree from the University of Southern California where she focused on family dynamics and trends with a special emphasis on Divorce Trauma in school aged youth. This author and organizational behavior scientist oversees a flagship Federal Occupational Health and Work/life balance program where she has become a standout corporate cultural transformation advisor and advocate for wellness in the workplace via Employee Assistance Programming. Dr. Jones is also a celebrated private practitioner for couples, hosting relationship restoration retreats and family rebuilding symposiums. Lastly, she works as a Parent Coordinator and Custody Evaluator in partnership with Washington, DC and the state of Maryland court systems. In her free time she is a mother of three of the best modes of inspiration a person can ask for. Together with her husband Jerome, the two launched a real estate investment firm that has flourished since its inception in 2017. Most recently Dr. Jones has added the title of farmer to her credentials, purchasing over 88 acres of farmland to build a wellness retreat with specific intent of exposing health, care, and restoration to all.  

Episode Transcript

Part 1: Lawrence Green

April 28, 2015. That was the day it started, the start of my new life.

I woke up in the hospital in ICU not knowing the extent of my injuries or what had happened fully. My parents came in to see me. They wanted to see me awake for the first time. I had this sensation that my legs fell asleep. I start trying to move around, to readjust, get comfortable and was unsuccessful because I was too weak to even reach my arm to my face at that point.

The nurse was in the room at the time, can see me struggling. They asked me if I needed help with anything. I said, “I need to reposition my legs. They feel like they fell asleep.”

The nurse started to say something, immediately got interrupted by my dad.

My dad squatted down next to me, leaned in close and he said, “You lost your legs in the motorcycle accident.”

My dad, growing up, was always very stoic. Raised me and my brother on the tough love style and showed very little emotion. So when I saw the pain and emotion in his face when he told me, I knew I had to be strong for not just myself but my entire family.

I immediately told both my parents, I looked at them and I said, “I'd rather be here without them than not be here at all.” They smiled on that one. First time I'd seen them smile since they walked in the room.

The next month and a half of recovery was long and difficult. I was unable to sleep at night time. One thing they don't tell you is it's really hard to sleep in a hospital bed after sleeping in a coma for a whole month. Up late at night, unable to sleep, just had late night infomercials on. I still remember Mike Lindell with the MyPillow every night.

Those are the times that thoughts begin to run through my mind. Am I going to have a normal relationship? Will I have a normal life? Will I enjoy the things that I used to enjoy, like going outside, enjoying the outdoors? All I could do was look forward to the morning time when my family got to come back, all my friends came back.

I got to do my physical therapy and occupational therapy. There's something about playing with them big rubber bands that pulling them around and stuff like that it just gave me satisfaction, gave me what I needed to get through the entire day.

I got released from the hospital June 3, 2015, the day after my 27th birthday. Was sent to rehab. The rehab facility I went to they had a two-week minimum of how long you're there. I did my two weeks. They sent me home. They told me I was one of the strongest people they've had through since after a traumatic accident.

I got home, finally, ready to start my new life. Home in my own bed, able to eat any food that's not hospital food. I had my dog with me to keep me company, Penny, but I still had to figure out what I was going to do next.

So as I'm trying to figure it out, I have a couple of friends that are trying to help me out, get my life started. They're members of the Pipe Hitters Union Motorcycle Club, a veteran motorcycle rider organization, tight-knit community.

A few days after talking with them, they give me a text message that says, “Give this guy a call. His name's David. He's looking forward to talking to you.”

So with no more information than that, I just go ahead and give this guy a call. I left him a voicemail, told him I got his number from a couple other friends. Within an hour, he gives me a call back excited to talk to me and just wants me to come out and meet him all the way in Dallas from the other side of Fort Worth.

So we scheduled our appointment for the following Monday. I wasn't driving at the time so I had my mom drive me out, all the way out from the other side of Fort Worth into Dallas to meet with him.

We show up. This big, long hair, looking like Samson just comes running out excited. Takes me in the building. We have a sit-down meeting with him and his staff. He tells me about this gym that he's starting up called the Adaptive Training Foundation, ATF. It's a non-profit organization based on the empowerment of people with disabilities through training, physical training.

He looks at me and says, “So are you ready to start working out again?”

And this is mid-July. I just got released from the hospital, just gotten home, getting settled in. I still have two wound vacuums on my legs, helping with the healing, sucking everything out to try to get it healed up faster, so I'm pretty scared, a little nervous about all this. I just look at him.

And him and his whole staff, they don't see the wheelchair or the wound vacuums or the wounds. They see me. A man that was just ready to get life started. So I told him I was ready.

I filled out an application, almost immediately get accepted into class. We began working out August 10, 2015. I began Class 3 of the Adaptive Training Foundation. Started working out. At this point they took the wound vacuums off but I still had bandages on. We actually had issues with breaking a couple of the scabs open in training. Oops.

So I started training up there. I ended up going through a few different classes and it started giving me life back. The first few weeks started giving me life back. I started quickly realizing I can do anything now that I could before, some things better. I was ready to do anything.

Fast forward a few months. I've been through a few different classes. At this point, they took me on a ski trip. Never been skiing in my life and got to go skiing. I started playing sled hockey. I played for the Dallas Sled Stars locally and I just started to realize that life is coming back.

Daylight Savings Time, March 2017, I meet the most amazing woman. Beautiful, smart, funny, outspoken, very loud, Kayla. I was immediately drawn to her. We had met a few times at previous ATF events and just never gotten to talk like we did this night. We actually got to know each other and that's how I got her number.

A few months into our relationship she told me, “You got to do something. You got to…” She gave me an ultimatum. She said, “You got to get a job or go to school,” and I'm still trying to figure out what I wanted to do. One thing kept catching my eye. I kept going back to mechanical engineering.

I looked up some of the things that mechanical engineers do, what type of careers they take and found a lot of relatable skills to what I used to do being a mechanic. And being a mechanic, we actually have jokes around the shop. We fix what the mechanical engineers mess up. I mean, it's not entirely true but, you know, we like to have fun. And there are a lot of relatable skills in between them so I started looking into schools and decided on University of North Texas.

Well, Kayla, having a master's degree, knows all the ins and outs of how to get enrolled, who I need to talk to, what I need to do, so she just takes me to the school and says, “Go, get enrolled.”

So I got enrolled. Started January 2018 in the spring semester.

The first day of school was very nerve‑racking, getting anxiety. I graduated high school in 2006 and haven't been back since, so 12 years with no school I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what to do. I'm surrounded by 18-year-olds that seem to be way smarter than me. It just took me a little bit of refreshing.

I've been enrolled at University of North Texas since then. I'm still currently enrolled for mechanical and energy engineering.

And I've learned when I first had my accident, was laying in the hospital, I knew I had a new life to start and I was just ready to start it and I wanted it right then and there. I've learned to be patient. Things take time, especially when you're rebuilding from scratch. Things take time to build.

I've found my new normal since then and the status quo of being normal is boring. Be unique. Be different. Stand out. That's what I feel like I've done.

I've gone back to Adaptive Training Foundation as an athlete multiple times. I'm a volunteer trainer. I volunteer as much time as I can. I help out anywhere, anyhow I can. And I spend time with my amazing girlfriend Kayla. Life is great.

Part 2: Camille Jones

All right. Good afternoon. I am going to get vulnerable and do something that is unheard of in the black community, and that's talking about it outside, you know. The things that happen in the house, happen in the house.

So the first thing I'm going to do is give you guys a secret. I'm not sure if it's still a secret because I think a couple of people are on to us right now in terms of my family, but I'm going to tell you it's 100% fact, 2,000% verifiable truth. I was indeed raised by superheroes.

I know it sounds crazy but I had a mother and a father who could hear through walls. So anything myself and my two sisters were plotting, they were on to us before we came out with, “Hey, we're thinking…” Like, “Absolutely not.” Okay?

They could read our minds so they knew whatever story version we were giving, whether or not indeed that was the truth.

They could see things before they happened. They could predict the future. “No, you're not going to spend the night there, because spending the night…” blah, blah, blah.

They knew it all. And, yes, ladies and gentlemen, my mommy and my daddy can fly.

My parents are from the south. My mother, born and raised in Huntersville, North Carolina, right outside of Charlotte. My dad from Columbia, South Carolina and they migrated to the great streets of New York. They raised three of us.

My parents taught us absolutely everything. I am one of the 1% of the population that can drive a stick. I can sew. I can cook. I had a father who was an accountant so I can manage the books. I don't need TurboTax to do my taxes

They showed us love early in life. One of the best moments was a Friday night in the Adams’ home. You could catch my mother and father dancing in the den together and me and my two sisters would gather around. We would try to dance with them.

My mother just could not catch the beat to save her life. My father spent his whole life like, “On the beat, Sarah. On the beat. Come on, Sarah. On the beat.”

The crowning moment was, “Kiss, kiss.” And then they would kiss and we would go, “Ugh,” just like kids. But they showed us love early.

We talked about everything in the house. In our household, we were armed to understand our voices. I was the dark-skinned, jerry curl, red glasses-wearing child. I knew hatred early when it came at me. I would bring it home and they would immediately dismiss it with, “All those words, none of them amount to the dynamicness that lives in Camille.”

Then one of the greatest gifts they gave us was knowing how to be independent. So even though my father— the conversations at our home were never about whether or not we were going to college, it was about which college we were going to. And that CPA chief accountant father of mine was like, “As long as you all go somewhere with New York state tuition.” And I was just like, “Nah.”

None of us did. My older sister ended up in Virginia Tech. My youngest sister, North Carolina A&T. And me, University of Maryland at College Park.

One of the nicest and most humbling embraces of love that I ever received from my father was when he kissed me goodbye to send me on to Maryland. I never forgot that.

So I get there. I'm at Maryland's campus. I'm doing the DC DMV thing, but I'm a New Yorker so I got to state fly. I got to state fly. This don't come easy, you all. This don't come easy, okay? But I can't dress like them southerners down there in DC. I know everybody hates that, but once you pass Philly, that Mason-Dixon line, that's not real. Once you pass Philly, you’re in the south. Okay?

So I would be constantly making trips back home to New York, run into mom and dad.

These superheroes made sure that any kryptonite that came our way, we were prepared to deal with it. I endured some of the most egregious encounters of racism when I left the doorsteps of New York, but I was armed with understanding who I was based on what mom and dad built me into.

But, still, knowing that they built me to be dynamic, I knew I also had to dress the part, so I was back and forth to New York constantly.

Then one weekend I came home. It was just me, home, surprising mom and dad. At this point they're empty nesters.

My parents had a good love. They had one of those loves that I'm working towards in my own marriage. They communicated well in this unspoken language of, “Uhm. Uh-hmm. Uh-hmm. Uh‑hmm.” But everybody knew what the other was saying.

And I remember this weekend I came home, it was absolutely perfect. Mom and Dad did everything they enjoyed. My mom, a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc., yes, I'm lineage, ____ [00:07:40] all day. My father, a member of Omega Psi Phi fraternity, and we had what we call now today cabarets, they called ‘The Dance’.

So my mom, true New York, and dad, dressed to the nines, head into this dance that Omega Psi Phi was throwing. That's what they did Friday night. Saturday, they cooked at the church. My father, this chef, he was the lead for men who cook at the church. My mom there, doing her thing. Slicing cornbread, making plates, making sure she stretched it out. Me, I'm there. I'm on Jamaica Ave. picking up some kicks.

I'm back in Harlem on 125th Street seeing if I can get a discounted mink, you know? Because it's November at the time. I got to get geared up for the winter. All right?

So I'm home doing that and done my shopping trip and I hit Roosevelt Field. Got everything I needed. I'm in the house. Now, I got to do that real shopping. I need groceries. So I'm packing the car with the food that they've bought. I'm doing free laundry, so I'm tired.

They're out dancing the night away and things like that. They come back in and we head to bed, because I'm leaving early. I'm heading back to New York because I got this guy I'm trying to check out. Just trying to see what he's doing. We had a little thing going on back then. I married him now so I can say that. I didn't want him to know back then I was as interested as I was.

And I went to bed, because I was going to hit the road early. I drive that Jersey turnpike like nobody's business. I remember just resting and then I heard this sound coming from the room afar. I knew it because it was familiar. It was my mother's voice but it was so high pitched. She was screaming for help. She was calling out for rescue and then I had this touch hit me. Superman was there.

And he said, “Camille, come here.” He was shaking me. I could feel his embrace. He was shaking me and he was saying, “Kiddo, kiddo. Come on. Wake up. Wake up.”

And when I could come to, I couldn't see him. I just saw this burgundy, burnt orange, grey hazy blackness and the figure of my dad. He had a bald head. He was saying to me, “Kiddo, kiddo, We're not going to make it.”

He gave me that kind of kiss he gave me when he dropped me off at the University of Maryland, one of those kisses that I didn't get regularly from him but I knew what they meant. He kissed me and he pushed me out of the second story window of my home.

And then Superman went into action. He had to save his Supergirl.

From what I can remember, that is only from the accounts of the Nassau County Fire Department. They basically found my father laying on top of my mother doing what true superheroes do, protecting.

That night, I got out. I hit the pavement and I go to my front door. I'm trying to get this open and it's like glue. It's like you can't— I'm pulling, I'm pulling on it, you know? Like those screen doors that are made of steel, keep people out, but don't take into consideration when people are trying to get out.

Then the fire department just go on to work and they're trying. I feel a tug on me. They're trying to pull me out of the way to work on me. “Are you hurt? Where are you hurt? Where are you hurting?” I can't. I can't even— I don't have speech.

They pull me away and then the first body I see them bring out is my dad, but I don't make contact with them. For some reason, I don't know if I knew then, I don't know, but I knew Superman was wounded.

Then the next body I watch them bring out is my mom and they dragged her through the glass from the door down to our concrete steps. They got her on the grass and I'm football-styling it, like, “Breathe, Mommy. Breathe. Breathe, Mommy. Come on, Mom.”

And she lets out this dirtiest, sooty, grayish, brownish, charcoal-filled cough you could ever imagine. And to me, it's beautiful, because I can see her chest rising. She's breathing. Mommy's here.

Then they pull me and I watch them as they work on her. I see one ambulance leave and I know Superman's in there.

They load my mother up and then they load me up in the third ambulance.

From the windows in the ambulance, I can see our lair, our Superman, Supergirl, Superwoman headquarters is burning to the ground. All the memories created in 827 Pepperidge Road, just all the nights of watching The Cosby Show, A Different World, mama's Young and the Restless show. When you were sick from school, that recipe of All My Children, Guiding Light and Wheel of Fortune, mixed with a little Matlock and Hawaii Five-0, the original. Pictures of us going to the prom. That day they brought Daddy home from the hospital when he had found out he had diabetes. All of this is running through my mind.

We get to the hospital and I'm just not okay. Remember, this is this family that our recipe and remedy for everything is laughter. We can get through anything through life with laughter. No matter what's going on, no matter how tragic, we got a punch line to it. We got that and we got scripture.

I remember having to go that week Mommy was in a coma. Me, they're working on me, and I go to my mom. I'm in this wheelchair. I'm by her bedside. My sisters make it from North Carolina, Virginia.

A couple days go by. This fire was Sunday. Wednesday hits and they come and they say, “Camille, we got to bury Daddy.”

I said, “We can't bury Daddy without Mom.”

So I go to Mom and I said, “Mom, I need you to get up. I can't tell you why but I need you to get up.”

That next day she opens her eyes. They pulled a tube out of her and all that. They clean her up. And I'm holding her hand. I'm like, “Mommy, Mommy,” and she opens her eyes.

She says, “Camille?”

I'm like, “Yeah.”

She's like, “Who won Dancing with the Stars?”

And I said, “What?”

In our house we cheer for black people. This was like the first season of Dancing with the Stars when Emmitt Smith was in the finalists and he pulled it off. But I didn't know Emmitt won. I didn't have those words. I was just like, “Oh, God. She's delusional.”

But then the nurse was like, “Emmitt won.”

And I remember never reciting to my mom that Daddy was gone. My older sister, Inge, who just has this ability to just be godawful in all things in life but then magical when needed. She's going to get me for that one. But I remember she was the one that alerted my mom that we had lost Superman.

That week, the superheroes that my mom and daddy raised showed. The three of us came together. We planned a funeral in the midst of just chaos beyond belief. You all don't know what it's like when black people die. If you do, oh, my God. When black people— you got a cousin asking can you have his car. You got another one asking, “Do you need anything,” but hoping you don't say money, because they're not at that point right now.

But Daddy had everything lined up. And I mean being in the middle, we just went, like collectively, my younger sister had this job many moons ago at 1-800-Flowers so she was in charge of flowers. Worked there for like 15 minutes but she knows flowers so she was in charge of flowers.

My older sister and I just put in the program. Just my youngest sister working with us and put things together. We just did what we needed to do.

And everybody kept saying, “Camille, what do you need? What do you need?” And all I kept saying was, “Just pray for my mom.” Because I couldn't highlight the one thing that I knew we were not allowed to say in our lives, and that was that I'm mad at God.

I was raised knowing that God don't make mistakes. To worry is to doubt God, but I was like, “Nah. Bruh got it wrong. He got it wrong. He was looking for 872. We had 827. Give me back Daddy.”

Superman can't be gone. I'm not done with him. I got to have somebody hold my hand when I walk down the aisle. I got to make sure this guy I'm waiting to get back to DC to check out he's still real good with. I brought home some decents but this was the one I wanted.

I was not okay but I went into this mode of business mode. My parents, we never talked about depression. We never talked about coping, anxiety, sadness, just being in spaces and places that you can't get out of by yourself. But I left. I went back to work.

I'm a clinician at the time. I'm at this hospital working in DC. We're going through what we call treatment team, going through all the patients, giving updates for the day.

And they said, “We have one more patient we need to discuss.” And it was like, “Who's that patient?”

“That patient’s Camille.”

“Oh, let me guess. Somebody here named Camille, that's a dope name. Who that? I want to meet this patient.”

They said, “We're talking about you, Camille. We're talking about you, sis.”

This fly-dressing New Yorker is in here in a Versace blazer and a pajama top. It was like, “You're not okay.”

So I go home and I'm telling this then-boyfriend now-husband like, “You know, can you get the— you know, they’re messing with my fashion. Yes, it is a pajama top but I didn't know. I wasn't trying to make a fashion statement that day with it being unbuttoned incorrectly,” and all that kind of stuff.

He just turns and he looks at me and he says, “Camille, you haven't been okay since you lost Daddy.”

And I said, “What? What are you talking about?”

He's like, “You got to get some help. You got to talk to somebody.”

Even though this is what I do, I'm not buying what I'm selling. I'm not in therapy. What? I'm good. Daddy taught us this. We're okay. You know, move on. All right. It happened. That's life. Bad shit happens. Put yourself together. Come on. We got work to do.”

Then I realized like how I got better was this boyfriend-then-husband showed me who he really was. He's a snitch at heart.

He snitched like witness-for-the-state type snitch. He tells my mother, he's like, “Camille's been sleeping in her shoes and she's jumping up around that same time every night that that fire was, between 3:17 and 3:48 in the morning.”

And the first thing I said was, “What? You told Mom I'm here at 3:48 in the morning? She's going to know we're doing the sex. She's going to know I'm shacking up. She's a Christian. What? I just told her we kissed twice. Damn it! She's on to us now. What are you doing?”

So I realized I didn't know that. I didn't know I was that bad, let me say that.

I talked to my mom and it's like this permission like, “Camille, you know it's okay to not be okay. When you lost your dad, I lost my very best friend. I'm not okay.”

And it was like, for the first time, I saw how we could embrace our faith. We could have Christ and a counselor. We can have therapy as well as the teachings of scripture. No longer do we have to be that member of the black community and the black family that we handle it.

How do we handle it? Through eating. Oh, my God. The recipe of getting through grief is turkey, ham, green beans, mac and cheese. Somebody at the church got to make pound cake. And not one, not two, but four Costco chickens. I don't know what it is when people die, people just show up at your house with Costco chickens. I put on 52 pounds when I lost my dad, eating. And I swore I wasn't going to eat.

Then black people think, you know, “Just eat, honey. Eat. Here, this will make you feel better.” Then if that's not working, they give you that one piece of magic potion that the black community feels will heal everything, known as ginger ale. If you got some ginger ale, you're going to be okay.

“You're going to be okay. Daddy's dead. Have a sip of ginger ale.”

“Okay.”

“Daddy ain't coming back. Here, have a piece of ham.”

“Okay.”

I want us to have different conversations. I want us to embrace healing different.

So now, this witness-for-the-state that I'm married to, we got three little ones, and we intentionally talk about emotions. We intentionally do feelings.

“Use your words, Kennedy.” “What's going on, Ethan?” “Tell Mommy how you feel, Channing.” I'm trying to be better for them but, most important, for me.

And when I think about black mental health, I think of how we've allowed this stigma to prevent us from releasing and unpacking. So many of us represent what Erykah's talking about in Bag Lady, about, “Bag lady don't miss your bus. You're going to hurt your back carrying all that stuff.” That was me.

It wasn't until my dad died November 12th, I was in a grocery store May 6th with this now‑husband and I was shopping cartful. I'm a cook. And I reached out to touch this one food. It was what Daddy used to make me all the time and we were the only two in the house that ate. I believe Mom snuck a little bit but… It was pig feet. You all know I was raised by southern folks. Yeah, pig feet proud and loud.

And I touched it, I was like, “Oh, my God. Daddy's dead.”

At the time I happened to be with my husband. He knew what to do. He put me in bed and I was there for like three days just a mess. And he was like, “Baby, you got to shower. You got to shower.”

He pushed these three grapes through my mouth and put life back into me, and he said, “Anything and everything that you need, I'ma hold your hand through it all.” And for 13 years he has yet to break that promise.

And I need that. We need that in our community. We need that green light to go get well, go unpack. Don't go through trauma and then hit up work on Monday. All right? Don't get raped on Thursday and think you can head back to the office Monday morning. Don't lose someone that's been a pillar to your community, a prominent figure in your growth and think you're just going to head on out, hit the beach real quick and come back and you're going to do it, catch an Airbnb and you're going to be all right.

In our community, we got to embrace wellness. We got to tear down those stigmas. And if there's anything you learn from my story, go be a superhero for yourself. Get well both on the outside and, most importantly, on the inside. Thank you.