Personal Experiences
These are Personal Experiences from the Veterans we serve and Twilight Brigade Volunteers. If you have a memorable or poignant experience with one of your Hospice or VA residents, Family member or Friend and would like to have it included, please send it to Bill@TheTwilightBrigade.org (please realize that your submission may be edited to protect resident confidentiality and/or brevity).
Veteran Testimonials
"From the bottom of my heart thank you very much. Your visits made all the difference in the world."
Sergeant Major Louis Roundtree (dec.)
The most highly decorated Marine of all time
3 Purple Hearts, 3 Silver Stars, 4 Bronze Stars
"When I first came here (the VA Hospital) all I did was lie in bed. I wouldn't talk to anybody and I never got up. I feel better and now I look forward to physical therapy and appointments. I know it was the Twilight Brigade that made it happen."
Francis "Frank" Vorland
Army Veteran
"The hardest thing about dying is being left alone. I felt betrayed and abandoned. You made me feel appreciated and proud. God bless you."
Lt. Walter Foreman (dec.)
Tuskegee Airman
Congressional Gold Medal
Volunteer Testimonials
"I learned one thing from Dannion's example - there are enough hours in the day to volunteer time to Compassion In Action. We all need to recognize the importance of committing ourselves to finding that time rather than making excuses for why we cannot. A smile on the face of a lonely veteran makes it all worthwhile."
Lt. Col. James Zumwalt, Board of Advisors
The True Survivors by James Zumwalt.pdf
click to download 
Personal Experience Letters
Spokane, 2011
Hello, All,
After we completed our Twilight Brigade training back in July here in Spokane, I wanted to move forward and begin the process of applying what we had learned.
First step was to register as a volunteer with a VA Hospital. It was relatively simple, just took some time - about three weeks in all. Talked with the volunteer coordinators at the VA, filled out some paperwork, got fingerprinted and TB tested. So now I am an officially credentialed VA volunteer. I wish I could say my name badge picture is awesome - it isn't. But who cares.
When I went back to the VA for my second TB test, I figured that since I already had my badge there was no reason not to stop by the hospice unit, so I did.
I called and found out which building the hospice was in. When I got there, I introduced myself and one of the nurses was kind enough to give me a brief tour of the hospice facility. It was 11:30 am and most of the residents were gathering in the lunch room, so we went there. As we walked into the lunch room the nurse pointed out a rather frail resident, sitting quietly at a table alone. The nurse explained that even though the he sat with his eyes closed most of the time and seldom spoke, that he was too restless to lie in bed. However, he enjoyed being wheeled about in a wheel chair. Both of the nurses on duty had spent time doing just that during the morning and their legs were tired.
So I sat down at the table with the him. His eyes opened while eating lunch, seemingly scarcely aware of my presence. Then after lunch, to the great relief of the nurses, I took over as his charioteer. I pushed his wheelchair up and down the hallways, and for a brief visit to the garden outside. As we wheeled about, I got to learn first hand about the alarm system that triggers when residents wander outside the ward (hmmm... funny how that buzzer keeps going off as we walk around). The nurse gave me the code to turn off the buzzer.
He only spoke once during the hour we were wheeling about - I slowed down and stopped to look at something and he simply said, "keep going." Other than that, my silent passenger seemed to enjoy the trip and didn't care that we covered the same hallways a dozen times. Movement was what he cherished, and it was fun to give him that sense of freedom. If it was me in that chair, I can tell you that I would want that same experience of freedom and traveling.
After about an hour, he spoke again, saying that he was tired and wanted to go to his room. The nurse got him into bed. As the nurse and I were standing on either side of the bed, he opened his eyes wide and stretched out his hands to us. His face brightened and he said "hold my hand," and we did. He then said that he had lived a long life and had no complaints. After over 80 years of living, he said he had done many things in his life. "The doctors told me I have cancer," he said, "and I don't know how long I have, but I've had a good life." It was a touching moment.
Two days later, I stopped by the hospice again and my new friend was sleeping, so no chariot driving work that day. I walked to the end of the hall and saw an elderly gentleman, sitting in his room watching TV. I said hello and asked if I could sit and talk for a while. He said yes. I thought about and asked a few 'open ended questions' and did some breathing to connect, and I listened. He is a Spokane native who has lived in other places, but returned because he liked his hometown best. He was in the Coast Guard and traveled a great deal of the Alaskan coast and was in awe of it. As a worker, he helped dismantle parts of the Farragut Naval Center on Lake Pond Oreille in the 1950's. And he remembered an old rail line that went from Spokane to Coeur d'Alene many years ago that he enjoyed riding. He related all this and more in just 20 minutes.
There was something I noticed while talking with him. His face brightened in a way similar to my other resident as he spoke. He enjoyed relating his experiences, and I enjoyed hearing them. For someone in their 70's and beyond, the shear quantity of experiences they have had in life is astounding. And in that quantity, there is a great deal of quality.
Both of my new residents were willing to connect with me. Later that day, I thought about them both and felt as though they were relatives. It was a realization that was a bit surprising. So my journey has begun. I look forward to finding and connecting with other 'unrelated relatives' that I haven't met yet.
Thanks Ronnie and Kent, for an excellent training. Thanks Frank for your willingness to be a mentor (see you in few days). And thanks to you Dannion for helping so many people pass from this world in peace, and creating a pathway for the rest of us to help others.
Ricky Gibson-Schwob
Hello, All,
After we completed our Twilight Brigade training back in July here in Spokane, I wanted to move forward and begin the process of applying what we had learned.
First step was to register as a volunteer with a VA Hospital. It was relatively simple, just took some time - about three weeks in all. Talked with the volunteer coordinators at the VA, filled out some paperwork, got fingerprinted and TB tested. So now I am an officially credentialed VA volunteer. I wish I could say my name badge picture is awesome - it isn't. But who cares.
When I went back to the VA for my second TB test, I figured that since I already had my badge there was no reason not to stop by the hospice unit, so I did.
I called and found out which building the hospice was in. When I got there, I introduced myself and one of the nurses was kind enough to give me a brief tour of the hospice facility. It was 11:30 am and most of the residents were gathering in the lunch room, so we went there. As we walked into the lunch room the nurse pointed out a rather frail resident, sitting quietly at a table alone. The nurse explained that even though the he sat with his eyes closed most of the time and seldom spoke, that he was too restless to lie in bed. However, he enjoyed being wheeled about in a wheel chair. Both of the nurses on duty had spent time doing just that during the morning and their legs were tired.
So I sat down at the table with the him. His eyes opened while eating lunch, seemingly scarcely aware of my presence. Then after lunch, to the great relief of the nurses, I took over as his charioteer. I pushed his wheelchair up and down the hallways, and for a brief visit to the garden outside. As we wheeled about, I got to learn first hand about the alarm system that triggers when residents wander outside the ward (hmmm... funny how that buzzer keeps going off as we walk around). The nurse gave me the code to turn off the buzzer.
He only spoke once during the hour we were wheeling about - I slowed down and stopped to look at something and he simply said, "keep going." Other than that, my silent passenger seemed to enjoy the trip and didn't care that we covered the same hallways a dozen times. Movement was what he cherished, and it was fun to give him that sense of freedom. If it was me in that chair, I can tell you that I would want that same experience of freedom and traveling.
After about an hour, he spoke again, saying that he was tired and wanted to go to his room. The nurse got him into bed. As the nurse and I were standing on either side of the bed, he opened his eyes wide and stretched out his hands to us. His face brightened and he said "hold my hand," and we did. He then said that he had lived a long life and had no complaints. After over 80 years of living, he said he had done many things in his life. "The doctors told me I have cancer," he said, "and I don't know how long I have, but I've had a good life." It was a touching moment.
Two days later, I stopped by the hospice again and my new friend was sleeping, so no chariot driving work that day. I walked to the end of the hall and saw an elderly gentleman, sitting in his room watching TV. I said hello and asked if I could sit and talk for a while. He said yes. I thought about and asked a few 'open ended questions' and did some breathing to connect, and I listened. He is a Spokane native who has lived in other places, but returned because he liked his hometown best. He was in the Coast Guard and traveled a great deal of the Alaskan coast and was in awe of it. As a worker, he helped dismantle parts of the Farragut Naval Center on Lake Pond Oreille in the 1950's. And he remembered an old rail line that went from Spokane to Coeur d'Alene many years ago that he enjoyed riding. He related all this and more in just 20 minutes.
There was something I noticed while talking with him. His face brightened in a way similar to my other resident as he spoke. He enjoyed relating his experiences, and I enjoyed hearing them. For someone in their 70's and beyond, the shear quantity of experiences they have had in life is astounding. And in that quantity, there is a great deal of quality.
Both of my new residents were willing to connect with me. Later that day, I thought about them both and felt as though they were relatives. It was a realization that was a bit surprising. So my journey has begun. I look forward to finding and connecting with other 'unrelated relatives' that I haven't met yet.
Thanks Ronnie and Kent, for an excellent training. Thanks Frank for your willingness to be a mentor (see you in few days). And thanks to you Dannion for helping so many people pass from this world in peace, and creating a pathway for the rest of us to help others.
Ricky Gibson-Schwob
Denver, 2011
Wow! there are hardly words to express my deep appreciation to each of you and your incredible caring hearts that you brought to this weekend. I feel physically as if our hearts are melded in our love and desire to serve. I have so far taken your hearts to bed, on a beautiful walk in the country today and as I am listening with friends who are having hard times. No doubt about it.... love is transforming! love and light
Teresa Dunwell
I am still basking in the glow of this past weekend, new friends, new insights, and great teaching, may we all go forth with this new knowledge to serve those in need and not to forget ourselves in the healing process.
Blessings upon you all.
Rev. Grant Fleming
Wow! there are hardly words to express my deep appreciation to each of you and your incredible caring hearts that you brought to this weekend. I feel physically as if our hearts are melded in our love and desire to serve. I have so far taken your hearts to bed, on a beautiful walk in the country today and as I am listening with friends who are having hard times. No doubt about it.... love is transforming! love and light
Teresa Dunwell
I am still basking in the glow of this past weekend, new friends, new insights, and great teaching, may we all go forth with this new knowledge to serve those in need and not to forget ourselves in the healing process.
Blessings upon you all.
Rev. Grant Fleming
Los Angeles, 2000
I'd like to tell you about my experience with the Twilight Brigade workshop last month. Although I'd recommend it to anyone who might ask, I don't believe that everyone would have the same take on it that I do.
It's been 23 years for me in the healing business; most modalities of touch and energy work which I happen to be very good at. I worked with my first terminal patient about 18 years ago and probably a dozen terminal patients since that time. The hospital is a familiar place as I have spent time there as a patient as well as being a therapist of sorts to many other people who were trying to recover from an assortment of different ails. The strangest thing I noticed when working with the dying is how comfortable I felt. Even in the presence of weeping, rotting flesh, it is as though the Spirit curbed all revulsion that I might have felt since I generally have a rather weak stomach.
Back to the Twilight Brigade workshop - I've been asked not to tell about the exercises that are done so it is difficult to say how well this program is put together. Firstly, you are made to think about a way of life that you are not accustomed to. Secondly, you are invited to think and feel about situations that most people are not familiar with. Thirdly, your own fears are addressed which leads to unexpected other emotions that were blocked by that fear. Forth is instruction and education. Fifth on my list is how gentle this whole process is. Compassion in action is so very appropriate in describing the unfolding of inner knowledge here.
There is no question in my mind that I was under Divine guidance in sitting with or treating very sick and terminal patients. There isn't enough space to tell all of my stories about that. Even so, I learned very much more about death and dying during this workshop. Many of my silent questions were answered about my own experience and also the understanding of some of the other people who were also in attendance.
I think I understood something about emotional intimacy that I didn't quite grasp before. I saw changes in energy around people. I saw muscular changes in faces and postures. I could easily go around the room and pick out who would be great at this work and who wouldn't be (in my opinion). Although I can say that each patient I worked with changed me in some way. I hate to cry; buddy, I do not like to cry in front of people but my heart center opens as easily as an old screen door. Sometimes I have to lock myself away for short periods of time to gather my own love and appreciation to give to myself; it is present for others, it absolutely must be present for me and my family.
There was a young man in this Unity's first Twilight Brigade class. He was swept away only three weeks after being considered the most "excited to learn" student. Although I only knew him from across rooms, he had a glow around him that was so nice. He hugged and spoke to everyone like his own brothers and sisters. His name was Chris and his parents wanted to present a memorial award to the student most like their young son in every subsequent class. I was the first to receive this award. It was surprising, considering I'm almost twice as old as Chris was. The people who decided that I was to receive this award said it was because I was excited about the work and had a joy about me. I have a way of appreciating people and how they came to be the person in front of me. I feel the love and compassion in people. That joy they saw was a reflection of what I saw in their faces. I feel so proud to be in the Twilight Brigade. I feel so proud to know my new friends and embrace, even deeper, my already-made friends.
~ Anonymous
I'd like to tell you about my experience with the Twilight Brigade workshop last month. Although I'd recommend it to anyone who might ask, I don't believe that everyone would have the same take on it that I do.
It's been 23 years for me in the healing business; most modalities of touch and energy work which I happen to be very good at. I worked with my first terminal patient about 18 years ago and probably a dozen terminal patients since that time. The hospital is a familiar place as I have spent time there as a patient as well as being a therapist of sorts to many other people who were trying to recover from an assortment of different ails. The strangest thing I noticed when working with the dying is how comfortable I felt. Even in the presence of weeping, rotting flesh, it is as though the Spirit curbed all revulsion that I might have felt since I generally have a rather weak stomach.
Back to the Twilight Brigade workshop - I've been asked not to tell about the exercises that are done so it is difficult to say how well this program is put together. Firstly, you are made to think about a way of life that you are not accustomed to. Secondly, you are invited to think and feel about situations that most people are not familiar with. Thirdly, your own fears are addressed which leads to unexpected other emotions that were blocked by that fear. Forth is instruction and education. Fifth on my list is how gentle this whole process is. Compassion in action is so very appropriate in describing the unfolding of inner knowledge here.
There is no question in my mind that I was under Divine guidance in sitting with or treating very sick and terminal patients. There isn't enough space to tell all of my stories about that. Even so, I learned very much more about death and dying during this workshop. Many of my silent questions were answered about my own experience and also the understanding of some of the other people who were also in attendance.
I think I understood something about emotional intimacy that I didn't quite grasp before. I saw changes in energy around people. I saw muscular changes in faces and postures. I could easily go around the room and pick out who would be great at this work and who wouldn't be (in my opinion). Although I can say that each patient I worked with changed me in some way. I hate to cry; buddy, I do not like to cry in front of people but my heart center opens as easily as an old screen door. Sometimes I have to lock myself away for short periods of time to gather my own love and appreciation to give to myself; it is present for others, it absolutely must be present for me and my family.
There was a young man in this Unity's first Twilight Brigade class. He was swept away only three weeks after being considered the most "excited to learn" student. Although I only knew him from across rooms, he had a glow around him that was so nice. He hugged and spoke to everyone like his own brothers and sisters. His name was Chris and his parents wanted to present a memorial award to the student most like their young son in every subsequent class. I was the first to receive this award. It was surprising, considering I'm almost twice as old as Chris was. The people who decided that I was to receive this award said it was because I was excited about the work and had a joy about me. I have a way of appreciating people and how they came to be the person in front of me. I feel the love and compassion in people. That joy they saw was a reflection of what I saw in their faces. I feel so proud to be in the Twilight Brigade. I feel so proud to know my new friends and embrace, even deeper, my already-made friends.
~ Anonymous