STORY AND PHOTOS BY KAREN BOSSICK
Ten doctors in white coats disembarked from the plane as Lee Woodruff ran to meet it, her vacation with her children at Disney World cut short.
On the gurney being pulled from the plane was her husband Bob Woodruff, newly crowned ABC news anchor who had been struck in the head by a bomb that had been lobbed at the Iraqi tank in which he had been riding.
“They told me, ‘He won’t be able to…’ ‘He might not make it through.’ And I was still wanting to know, ‘Was this guy bombed?’ ” she recalled.
“I would not have made it if it were not for the nurses,” Lee added. “They kept the door open for me. They’d say, ‘With brain injuries, no one can tell how any one person is going to recover because it’s so individual. But look at this guy in here—he’s reading a book now.’ They’d say ‘Put your hand on your husband and watch the heart monitor. See, he knows you’re here!’ ’That was enough for me to tell those doctors, ‘Screw you! You don’t know my husband!’ ”
Woodruff, best-selling author of “Perfectly Imperfect,” recounted her story for about two dozen supporters of Swiftsure Ranch over a breakfast of lox and bagels, mini quiches and mimosas this past week at a private residence just south of Ketchum.
The breakfast capped a weekend in which she and her husband Bob Woodruff had spoken at the Sun Valley Club on behalf of the Bellevue ranch, which provides equine-assisted therapy to children and adults, including veterans returning from Afghanistan and Iraq with traumatic brain injuries and post traumatic stress.
Swiftsure wants to expand its programs for wounded warriors with the donations it received from the events.
“Women are called on to wear so many hats—and to be stronger than you can be,” Lee told the women. “All of us have resilience we don’t know we have until we’re tested.”
In that moment when the world stopped for Lee in January 2006, she realized that of all the things she could be doing the most important thing was sitting by her husband’s side hour by hour in the hospital room.
And she learned how complicated anger and grief can be.
“You’re grieving, but you’re not allowed to—not in this society,” she said. “You’re supposed to be grateful that he’s still alive.”
Lee said she encountered the same thing when she miscarried.
“Everybody told me, ‘But you still have the other two children. It was like I was supposed to be grateful for them, but I was not allowed to grieve for the one I didn’t have. That was an eye opener for me.”
Lee didn’t want sympathy but, rather empathy when her husband was injured, his salary catapulting from $160,000 a year to $12,000 overnight.
“I liked it when someone said, ‘This sucks!’ I liked it when someone said, ‘I’m taking your kids to the movies so you can have two hours to yourself.’ It’s never wrong to say, ‘I’m here. I acknowledge you’re going through something. If you want to talk about it, fine. If not, that’s okay, too.’ ”
During the first year it was not clear if Bob would ever be able to go back to work so he and Lee focused on little things.
“I’d say, ‘Hey, I’m going to have a cup of coffee with big froth. I’m going to have a craft beverage. That was a treat,” she said.
As they sat in the hospital, the two met countless wounded soldiers and their families. In response they created the Bob Woodruff Foundation, which invests in innovative programs that assist veterans returning to their families and communities.
“It’s so easy to look at them and say: How could they have gotten to a place they’re so physically and emotionally broken?” she said. “Today’s conflict is different from Vietnam in that in these two wars you cannot let your guard down because the 6-year-iold boy coming at you could have a bomb.”
While the hospital care is stellar, soldiers’ needs are often not met when they get out, she added.
Lee recounted the story of a veteran living in the Adirondacks who was partially blinded He has to drive six hours to the veterans hospital because he’s not allowed to use local facilities. He’s also not allowed 100 percent disability, even though he has trouble differentiating between the men’s restroom and the women’s.
“If you’re a soldier trying to reintegrate into society you have to fight and fight. And, if you’re not a fighter, the best you can hope for is a job at Walmart,” she said. “So many vets are being told there’s nothing wrong with you. And, for some, the only place that’s safe becomes their home. So it’s so wonderful that they have a place like Swiftsure that they can come to for help.”
Bob was “trapped” at home for a year, Lee recounted. The man who had made his living as a TV reporter struggled to find the words, referring to nail clippers as “knob shooters” and the Verizon repairman as the Viagra man.
While he tried to put on a good face for the world, his moving feet belied his anxiety and frustration.
Lee said she still has periods of anger and grief.
“I’m not sure I’ve let any of these bad things go. They’re still with me, but fewer now.”
Grants from the Bob Woodruff Foundation have helped elevate programs encompassing equine therapy and theater, art and music therapy. One grant enabled musical instruments to be adapted so that those using prostheses could rock out with Roger Waters of Pink Floyd at a Stand up for heroes benefit at Madison Square Garden.
“In a heartbeat I would take this back, even though it’s done so much good in the world,” Lee said. “But I can’t, so we make something good out of bad. And it’s good to see what done. It’s also my therapy. The ability to move forward day by day and see how other people have been affected is a good thing. The government will never be big enough to do what we’re doing. And these programs get people out of their homes and touching the world in a profound way.”