Traditsioonilised retseptid

Südamed plahvatavad pärast teismeliste jalutuskäike 96-aastase mehe toidupoest koju

Südamed plahvatavad pärast teismeliste jalutuskäike 96-aastase mehe toidupoest koju

Toetussõnumeid on tulnud üle kogu maailma

Valu südames on praegu normaalne.

Internet on armunud Inglismaal Manchesteris Aldis asuva 18-aastase supermarketi töötaja Christian Trouesdale'i, kes pani hiljuti kõigil südame paisuma, kui teda nähti käsikäes 96-aastast meest koju kõndimas.

Trouesdale'i märkas esmakordselt kohalik elanik, kes tegi neist kahest foto ja kirjutas Facebookis, et tema heategu oli "armas asi tunnistajaks".

Kui The Bolton News ühendust võttis, selgitas noormees, et see oli tegelikult teine ​​kord, kui ta selle konkreetse kliendiga koju jalutas, ning veendus, et on õige mõneks ajaks töölt lahkuda.

"Küsisin oma mänedžerilt, kas on õige teda koju jalutada, ja ta ütles, et see oli õige asi, nii ma tegin," ütles Trouesdale ajalehele. „Vestlesime hästi kõigest, alates üldvalimistest kuni Horwichi ajalooni - ta teadis kõigest palju. Mu vanemad on kasvatanud mind kohtlema teisi inimesi nii, nagu soovite, et teiega koheldaks. ”

Loomulikult plahvatas Internet hiljem kiindumusega Christiani ja keegi teine ​​lõi rahakogumiskampaania, et „saada kristlasele kena Interneti -boonus”.

Kampaania käivitamisele järgneva päeva jooksul on inimesed annetanud 500 naela eesmärgist 303 naela. Kui soovite annetada, saate seda teha saidil GoFundMe.


Peenise vormis hoidmiseks peate regulaarselt erektsiooni tegema. "Seda tuleb sisuliselt harjutada," ütleb Lõuna -Illinoisi ülikooli meditsiinikooli uroloogia dotsent Tobias Kohler.

Tervise tooni säilitamiseks peab peenise silelihaseid perioodiliselt rikastama hapnikuga verevool, mis peenist kinnistab ja selle püstitab, ütleb Kohler.

Kui poisid on füüsiliselt võimelised püsti tõusma, kuid neil pole päeva jooksul erektsiooni-võib-olla satuvad nad pikka aega väga ebaerootilistesse oludesse-, ei pea nad muretsema. Ajus on sisseehitatud peenise automaatne hooldusfunktsioon.

Ajuimpulsid põhjustavad unenägude unefaasis erektsiooni, mida nimetatakse REM -faasiks. Pole tähtis, kas näete kuuma seksunenägu või zombie apokalüpsise õudusunenägu - teie peenis muutub sel unetsükli perioodil kõvaks.

Kuid mõned mehed ei suuda füüsiliselt erektsiooni saavutada, näiteks need, kes on saanud närvikahjustusi või kellel on diabeedist põhjustatud närvi- või veresoontekahjustus.

"Kui nad ei tee midagi normaalse erektsiooni säilitamiseks, lühendavad nad peenist," ütleb Kohler. Ilma regulaarse erektsioonita võib peenekoe muutuda vähem elastseks ja kahaneda, muutes peenise 1-2 sentimeetrit lühemaks.

Kohler ütleb, et selline seade nagu vaakumpump, mis sunnib peenist verest paisuma, võib aidata füüsilise erektsiooni probleemidega meestel säilitada peenise tervena.


Kasutamine [redigeeri]

Tünnid saab kolbidega liigutada, ‌ [ Ainult Bedrock Edition ] vesi ja laava voolavad tünnide ümber neid mõjutamata. Laava võib tünnide kõrval õhuplokkides tuld tekitada, nagu oleks tünn tuleohtlik, kuid tünn tegelikult ei sütti ja seda ei saa põletada.

Konteiner [redigeeri]

Tünnidel on 27 piluga konteinerite inventar, mis on sama kui üksik rind. Neid saab täita tilgutite abil ning punkreid täita ja tühjendada. Kui tünnid on purunenud, viskavad nad konteineri sisu ja tünni eseme ise maha.

Tünni GUI avamiseks kasutage juhtseadet Kasuta üksust. Üksuste teisaldamiseks tünnivarude ja mängijate inventari või hotbar-i vahel, kui tünni GUI on avatud, lohistage või klõpsake üksusi. Kui hoiate all klahvi Alt ja topeltklõpsate üksuse hoidmisel, liiguvad kõik seda tüüpi üksused, mis on klõpsatud tünni sisse või välja, niivõrd kui nende jaoks ruumi on. ‌ [ Ainult Java väljaanne ] Tünni GUI -st väljumiseks kasutage Esc -juhtelementi.

Erinevalt kastidest saab tünni asetada kindla ploki alla ja seda saab siiski avada.

Vaikimisi on tünni GUI silt "Barrel". Tünni GUI -silti saab muuta, pannes tünnile enne selle asetamist alasi või kasutades käsku /data ‌ [ Ainult Java väljaanne ] (näiteks rinnakorvi (0,64,0) märgistamiseks "Bonus Barrel!", kasutage /andmete ühendamise plokki 0 64 0 ).

Sisse Java väljaanne, tünni saab "lukustada", määrates selle käsu /data abil käsu Lukusta. Kui tünni lukustussilt ei ole tühi, ei saa tünni avada, kui mängija ei hoia lukusildi tekstiga samanimelist eset. Näiteks tünni lukustamiseks (0,64,0) nii, et silindrit ei saa avada, kui mängija ei hoia käes eset, mille nimi on "Tünnivõtme", kasutage /andmete ühendamise plokki 0 64 0 .

Elukutse vahetamine [redigeeri]

Kui külas on tünn, mida külaelanik ei ole nõudnud, on igal külaelanikul, kellel pole valitud töökohaplokki, võimalus muuta oma elukutse kaluriks.

Kütus [redigeeri]

Tünnid võivad olla kütusena ahjudes, sulatades 1,5 eset ploki kohta.

Märkmeplokid [redigeeri]

Tünnid saab asetada noodiplokkide alla, et tekitada "bassi" heli.

Piglins [redigeeri]

Piglinid muutuvad tünni avavate või purustavate mängijate suhtes vaenulikuks.


Kuidas see end tundma paneb?

Võimas kiirustamine, mida inimesed saavad meti kasutamisest, paneb paljud algusest peale konksu haarama. Selle kasutamisel ujutab kemikaal nimega dopamiin üle ajuosad, mis reguleerivad mõnutunnet. Kasutajad tunnevad end ka enesekindlalt ja energiliselt.

Kasutaja võib kiiresti sõltuvusse sattuda ja leiab peagi, et teeb kõik, et kiirustada uuesti. Kui nad jätkavad ravimi kasutamist, suurendavad nad tolerantsust. See tähendab, et sama suureks saamiseks vajavad nad suuremaid annuseid. Mida suurem on annus, seda suuremad on riskid. Saate lisateavet selle kohta, kuidas metoodika kasutamine keha mõjutab.

Jätkub


Uurimistöö

Kuigi eakate tervisliku toitumise kohta on tehtud vähe meditsiinilisi uuringuid, näitab üks meditsiiniline uuring, et nn Vahemere dieedil võib olla kasu 60-, 70- ja 80-aastastele inimestele. 2004. aastal meditsiiniajakirjas "Public Health Nutrition" avaldatud uuringus vaadeldi eakaid inimesi Kreekas, Hispaanias, Taanis ja Austraalias. Ta leidis, et Vahemere dieet, mis sisaldab palju puuvilju, köögivilju, oliiviõli, täisteratooteid ja kala, on seotud eakate pikaealisusega ning kujutab endast tervislikku toitumisharjumust.


Rahahäda

iStockphoto AD põdejatel on haiguse progresseerumisel raskusi abstraktse mõtlemisega, muutes numbrid ja raha eriti tülikaks.

Kuigi aeg -ajalt igakuise makse puudumine pole muretsemiseks põhjustatud (vähemalt aju tervise seisukohalt), siis kui teie lähedasel on äkki raskusi raha käitlemise, arvete tasumise, eelarve haldamise või isegi numbrite kujutamisega, võib see olla dementsuse märk.


Kuidas ramen maailma vallutas

Ma kõndisin lahjal ajal koduõue kuuris, kiirramenist on saanud ülemaailmne toidukraam. Kõndige peaaegu igas toidupoes ja igal pool ning on tõenäoline, et leiate mõned värvilised pakendid, mis sisaldavad kuiva parve kootud nuudleid ja fooliumist maitsepaketti.

Kuid ramen areneb pidevalt, esinedes Jaapani tänavalemmikuna, ühiselamutoa põhitoiduna, puusatoitlaste kinnisideena ja hiljuti hübriidina, mis on nii käsitöö kui ka mugav.

Selle roa päritolu, mida me nimetame rameniks, on pisut hägune, kuid teadlased usuvad, et Hiina kaupmehed tõid nisnuudlid esmakordselt Jaapani sadamasse Yokohama 19. sajandi lõpus.

Tegelikult nimetati neid kuni 1950ndateni Jaapani soba -nuudli järgi “hiina” sobaks. Jaapani kõnelejad võtsid ka hiina sõna tõmmatud nuudli, la-mian ja vahetasid R-heli L-i vastu, foneetiliselt morfiseerides la-mian sisse ramen. Uus nimi jäi külge.

Ramen pühkis riigi pärast II maailmasõda, kui USA ujutas näljase Jaapani odava nisuga üle. Populaarsed piirkondlikud stiilid tekkisid, kui rameni kokad riffisid ja lõid lugematuid sorte.

Aastal 1957 märkas uuenduslik Osaka mees nimega Momofuku Ando kohalikku poodi rivistunud töötajaid, kes ootasid auravaid nuudlikausse. Ta otsustas, et suudab kiirendada nuudlite valmistamise protsessi ja aidata ülal pidada töötajaid, kes ehitasid kiiresti üles sõjajärgset Jaapanit.

Pärast seda, kui oli aasta aega oma koduaias kuuris katsetanud, kuumuse, nisu, MSG ja palmiõliga nokitsenud, pakkus ta välja peaaegu kohe valmistatava nuudli, mida saab kolme minuti jooksul uuesti niisutada ja küpsetada.

Tema esimene toode “Chikin Ramen” jõudis turule 1958. aastal, käivitades Ando ettevõtte Nissin. Rohkem kui neli aastakümmet hiljem hääletasid jaapanlased instant rameni riigi parimaks 20. sajandi leiutiseks.

Nissin avaldas 1971. aastal USA -s praegu üldlevinud Top Rameni kiirnuudlite sarja, millele järgnes Cup O ’Noodles, mis keedeti plastikust vahust serveerimisnõusse valatud keeva veega.

Esmakordselt USA-s 25 sendi eest müüdud kiir-rameni vastupandamatu soola-rasva-süsivesikute trifecta tõmbas kaasa kulude teadlike õpilaste ja säästlike leibkondadega. Isegi tänapäeval saavad Ameerika ostjad ramenit osta 12-pakendis hinnaga alla 19 sendi portsjoni eest.

1990ndate ja 2000ndate Jaapani majanduslanguse ajal võtsid jaapanlased omaks rameni töölisklassi juured, muutes selle üheks riigi populaarsemaks roaks. Selleks ajaks oli ramen jõudnud ka igasse maakera nurka.

Odavast ja kiiresti riknevast ramenist sai maailma vaeste peamine toode ja ühine valik toiduabipakke. Et kõrvale juhtida, et toode on ebatervislik, asutasid ramenitootjad ülemaailmse kiirnuudlite ühingu.

Liikmed on annetanud rohkem kui 5 miljonit pakki katastroofide käes kannatanud piirkondadele, sealhulgas New Orleansis pärast orkaani Katrina 2005. aastal ja Hiinas Yunnanis pärast maavärinat 2014. aastal. Kriitikud ründavad rameni soola-, rasva- ja keemilist sisaldust, kuid tunnistavad, et toode rahuldab nälga .

Aastal 2004 suurendas Ameerika megakokk David Chang rameni mainet odava ja kõrgelt töödeldud toiduna massile, kui ta avas New Yorgis Momofuku nuudlibaari.

Kiire rameni leiutaja nime saanud Momofuku serveeris auravaid kausse käsitöönuudlitega, millele oli lisatud humaanselt kasvatatud Berkshire'i seakõhtu ja talus kasvatatud mune. Valem oli hitt ja kliendid talusid tohutuid ridu.

Momofuku edu raputas ramenit läikivate toiduajakirjade lehtedele ja muutis selle hetke toiduks. Restoraniettevõtjad hüppasid sellele suundumusele, käivitades kogu riigis ramenipoode või ramen-ya.

Otsides keskteed tipptasemel Manhattani nuudlite ja vahust sündinud superhinna vahel, tutvustas New Jerseys asuv Sun Noodle, mis varustab Momofuku ja teisi tipptasemel rameni restorane, pakendatud tarbekaupade rameni tooteid, mis on vaid sarnased nende eelkäijatega.

Aasia ja kõrgekvaliteedilistes toidupoodides müüdavad värsked nuudlid vajavad jahutamist ja ei sisalda MSG-d. Erinevalt esivanematest on pakenditel ka maitsepaketid, mis sisaldavad kontsentreeritud supipõhja ja vürtse. (Kiire rameni korral on pakendi sisu pulbriline.)

Rameni uurimiseks ja arendamiseks avas ettevõte ka “Ramen Labi” New Yorgi Nolita naabruses. Seal toimuvad Rameni seminarid ja degusteerimised ning mõnel õhtul ainult ramen-broneeringud.

Võib-olla vältimatu progressi korral kuulutas Chang rameni surnuks, mille langetas selle Interneti-toega üldlevimus. Oma kvartaliajakirjas Õnnelik virsik, väitis ta, et ramen pole enam puus, kõrvaline toit, mis see kunagi oli, ning et rameni valmistamise oskusi, retsepte ja traditsioone ei anta enam meistrilt õpipoisile. "Nüüd on Internet kõike muutnud," kurvastas Chang. "Inimesed saavad koheselt kogu vajaliku teabe ja see on ramenis innovatsiooni tapnud."

Koka seisukohast võib tal olla õigus, kuid näiteks 2013. aastal söödi üle 105 miljardi portsjoni instant ramenit. Toiduainetööstuse analüütikute sõnul kasvab see arv jätkuvalt ja ramen jätkab oma suunda maailma kulinaarse domineerimise poole.


Las Tunas: tuleviku naabrus

Jalutamiseks on paremaid tänavaid, poeakendesse vaatamiseks on Las Tunas Drive'i ala, mis algab Alhambra-San Gabrieli piirist lääne pool ja lõpeb paar kvartalit San Gabrieli puiesteest, millel on vähe märkimisväärset arhitektuuri ja miski ei sarnane puudega. vooderdatud ilu. Kõnniteedel ei tõtle keegi, keegi ei nooguta sõbralikult tere. . . keegi ei kõnni üldse mööda, välja arvatud aeg -ajalt varahommikune trennifriik, kes on teel kohvikusse.

Ja siiski, mõne kvartali kaugusel on toidupoed ja restoranid 13 erinevast etnilisest rühmast. Ja vähemalt viis neist restoranidest võib olla väärt 20 miili ümbersõitu. Jalakäijaid võib väljas olla vähe, sest kõik söövad või ostavad, tegelevad asjadega ja istuvad seejärel tagasi oma autodesse.

Nad võivad suunduda Las Tunase teistesse osadesse, võib-olla 10 minutit lääne poole Temple Cityni, kus tänavat ääristavad 40ndate ja 50ndate ajastu kauplused ja restoranid-lambi- ja lambivarju pood, mille ees on hiiglaslik lamp, raadio-remonditöökoda, kus enamik kaunilt taastatud varu on vähemalt 30 aastat vana, vanamoodne apteek, Chinatown-pagoda välimusega kotlet-suey maja ja peen Hollandi-Indoneesia importpood, kust saate tuliseid sambalid , hea hollandi šokolaad ja paar puukingi.

Idas, Alhambras, nimetatakse Las Tunas peatänavaks ja näeb tegelikult osa välja. Seal on pagaritöökojad ja raamatupoed ning hea India turg. Kuid enam kui mõned poelettid on tühjad, kahtlemata tähistatud ümberehitusega.

Alles siis, kui Las Tunas hakkab sarnanema mis tahes muu suure liiklussõlmega, muutuvad näljase inimese jaoks asjad tõeliselt huvitavaks. See on tõsi, sellel alal on paar traditsioonilise välimusega ja isegi maalilist ettevõtet. Fantastilise animeeritud neooniga söögikoht Bun 'n Burger näeb välja nagu midagi Roger Rabbitist.

Kuid Las Tunase söögipiirkonna süda koosneb sisuliselt kahest minikeskusest, mis asuvad Mission Drive'i Las Tunase mõlemal küljel üksteisest eemal. Minikaubanduskeskused võivad olla koledad ja eristamatud, väikeettevõtete nöörid, millel on vähe ühist, kuid need on atraktiivsed võrreldes alternatiiviga-linnast on saamas „taaselustatud” teemapargi versioon, mis on täidetud ketipoodidega .

Parimal juhul saavad minikeskused unistused teoks teha: võimalus alakapitaliseeritud ärimehele, kes oskab šašlõkki või Hainani kana riisi, võimalus naabruskonna elanikele tutvuda köögimaailmaga.

Näiteks Las Tunas Plaza iseseisevas maailmas, kus on parkla peaaegu alati täis, pakuvad kolm suurepärast restorani üksteise järel Indoneesia, Taiwani ja Vietnami toitu.

Laupäeva pärastlõunal voolab liin välja Vietnami nuudlipoodi Golden Deli, kus regulaarsed kliendid teavad, pho dac biet on väärt 15-minutilist laua ootamist. Peaaegu kõigil kohapeal on kauss või taldrik nuudlitega ette pandud, loksudes ja söögipulgadega Vietnami poplauludena-võib-olla The Eaglesi laulu „Lyin 'Eyes” ingliskeelne versioon-heliseb. süsteem.

Kõrval, Taiwani restoranis Sun Shine, lehvivad ukseava tuule käes heleoranžid paberist õnnelaternad. Enamasti tulevad Hiina kliendid lõuna- ja õhtusöögiks hommikusöögiks rahustavaid sooja tofu kausse ja keerutab imelist hiina prae leiba. Seal on imeliselt intensiivne punaselt küpsetatud kana ingveriga, mida ettekandja, kartes, et luud ei meeldi, võib teid heidutada tellimisest (roog on vaeva väärt) ja ka kohutavaid mereande. Peaaegu igal kellaajal võib koka-omaniku Chi Chou Ceni vokist näha tulekerasid.

Hilisõhtuti saab Borobuduri aiast Indoneesia linnasepood, mis on täis teismelisi, kes imetavad magusaid, välismaalase välimusega rohuželeejooke ja lohisevad alla suurtes kaussides karrit. laksa nädalavahetustel nuudleid, on peene tšillis praetud kana perede seas populaarne.

See ei tundu õiglane, et samas mini-kaubanduskeskuses on ka Tai restoran ja Hiina grillimisvõimalus, mis ilmselt paistaks silma enamikus teistes linnaosades. See on eriti ebaõiglane, kui arvestada üle tänava asuva minikaubanduskeskusega.

Seal on Malaisia ​​restoran Yazmin rojak asi-värskendav troopiline salat, mis oli niristatud paksu tindiga sojakastmega. Veiseliha on see, mida saate Vietnami restoranis Pagode-seitse imelist käiku sellest. Magusa välimusega bento pood, Kintaro, piirkonna Jaapani lapsed peatuvad California rullimiseks ja külma purgi Kirini pärastlõunase tee jaoks, nii nagu gümnasistid, kes olid põlvkond enne neid, kohalikus söögikohas burgerit ja kirsisoodat ostnud.

Kuid rohkem kui huvitavaid restorane ja turge saab see naabruskond, nagu iga traditsiooniline väikelinn, oma iseloomu inimestelt, kes seal töötavad ja ostavad. Kõndige sellel näiliselt kõndimatul naabrusel, rääkige inimestega ja kohtute poepidajatega, kes on nii soojad ja sõbralikud kui igal väikelinnal.

Kohtute Jaapani toidupoe Yama Seafood omaniku Kenzo Yamadaga, kelle hääl on sõbralik. Oma jaamast kala-liha leti taga nõustab ta kliente ja hoolitseb selle eest, et nad läheksid õnnelikult minema. "Proovige neid," ütleb ta ühele naisele, ulatades kontrollimiseks üle hunniku väikseimat valget kala. Ta kummardub ja näitab proovi oma lapsevankris istuvale beebile beebiohuri heakskiidu.

"Mul on väga vedanud," ütleb Yamada, "kliendid on siin head. See proua, ta on siia tulnud seitse aastat. ”

Maarten ja Joan Keller on tegutsenud alles kuus aastat, kuid nagu Joan Keller ütleb: "See, mida me leidsime, on seina nišš." Nende äri: pitskardinad, pitsist laudlinad ja rida Briti toidukaupu. "Inimesed otsivad midagi kodust," ütleb Keller, "nii et saame, mida saame." Seal on purgid puru, marmelaadipurgid, pruuni linnaseäädika pudelid ja mõned asjad nagu marmite ja kreemjas mannapuding, mida ainult britid võiksid armastada.

Kellerite koju tagasi pole aga Suurbritannia, vaid Holland. Ja nii on olemas sinimustvalged Hollandi kreemikomplektid ja tuuleveski mustriga soola- ja pipraterajad. Hollandi toitu siiski ei olnud, Kellerid ei tahtnud Temple City impordipoega konkureerida. Pealegi on selle äri süda pits.

"Minu kardinad on piiramatu pikkuse ja laiusega," ütleb Keller. "See pole nagu kaubamaja, kus olete kinni sellest, mida nad teile annavad." Kogu pits nii kardinate kui ka laudlinade jaoks on imporditud Euroopast, enamasti Hollandist, Austriast, Saksamaalt, Šotimaalt ja Suurbritanniast. Kuid ärge paluge Kellerilt sinist või roosat või mõnda muud mittepitsilist värvi pitskardinaid hankida. "Müün ainult valget ja beeži," ütleb Keller. Ja ärge küsige pitsita kardinate kohta: "Raskeid kardinaid ma ei tee," ütleb Keller. "Ma jään oma pitsi juurde."


Carol Dykstra on tema pärisnimi, kuid tuttavad kutsuvad teda “pr. Päikest. ”

See hüüdnimi eelneb Dykstra uue aasta lubadusele 2021. Carlsbadi pensionär tegi sel aastal tegelikult kaks resolutsiooni. Üks oli kaalust alla võtta. Teine eesmärk oli tuua päikesekiir kellegi ellu igal 2021. aasta päeval.

Siiani pole ta kaalu kaotanud, kuid on päikest andnud, mõnikord mitmele inimesele ühe päeva jooksul.

Dykstra toimetab sünnipäevakaardid ja e-kaardid oma La Costa Gleni pensionikogukonna kaaskodanikele nende erilisel päeval ja orhidee iga uustulnuka tervitamiseks. Kui kellelgi on "verstapost" sünnipäev, lisab ta õhupallikimbu.

Ta ajab asju inimestele, kes ei saa enam sõita. Tegelikult pidi ta külastama kolme erinevat poodi, et osta ühele 96-aastasele naabrile konkreetne toidupood.

Ta viib inimesed lõunale. Ta helistab, et rõõmustada kedagi, kes on üksildane.

Ta toimetas hiljuti taime ja kaardi naabrile, kes naasis seljaoperatsioonist koju.

Ta kingib majapidajale lilli, jagab hooldustöötajatele tervislikke suupisteid ja La Costa Gleni aednikele valgubatoone, segatud pähkleid ja jooke. "Nad teevad kõvasti tööd kogu päeva ja kui ma neid näen, annan neile maiustusi," ütleb ta.

Eile oli tal kimp valmis kinkima 93-aastasele naabrile, kes oli elanud väga aktiivset elu, sest "ma lihtsalt arvasin, et see rõõmustab teda."

"Lilled on minu lemmik kingitus," ütleb Dykstra. "Aga see läheb kalliks." Mõnikord annab ta maasikaid või Vaata kommi. "Ma annan endale iga päev toetust ja sellest tulenevad kulud," ütleb ta.

78 -aastane Dykstra kasvas üles Philadelphia äärelinnas ja õpetas kooli Iowas. Tema abikaasa suri rohkem kui kaks aastat tagasi. "Meil ei olnud lapsi," ütleb ta ja tema lähisugulasse pole kedagi jäänud. "Mis iganes aega mul üle jääb, tahan inimestele rõõmu pakkuda, inimesi õnnelikuks teha."

Nii ta seda teebki - alates sõbrapäeva maiuste pakkumisest oma naabritele ja lõpetades pensionäride kogukonna maastikukujundajatele maiustuste pakkimisega.

Dykstra ütleb, et tema head teod ei piirdu ainult La Costa Gleniga. Ta sõitis kord Santa Barbarasse endist naabrit rõõmustama.

Mõned tema lihtsad heateod on plaanis. Kui ma temaga rääkisin, oli ta ostnud lillekimbu, et toimetada see järgmisel päeval kellelegi, kes arvas, et vajab moraali. Muud toimingud on spontaansed.

"Ma olin saaja ja see oli rohkem kui üks päev," ütleb Judy La Bounty. Niipea kui ta pärast põlveoperatsiooni La Costa Gleni villasse naasis, kuulis ta uksele koputust. See oli Dykstra, kes elab 800 elanikuga kompleksi teises otsas ja uuris, kas ta saaks aidata.

Pärast La Bounty kuu rehabilitatsioonikuu esemekottide ärapanemist pakkus Dykstra poodi vajalike tarvikute järele.

"Ta läks välja ja ostis Gatorade'i, tomatimahla ja valgujooke," ütleb La Bounty. "Ta ostis kõik ja pani selle külmkappi ega lasknud mul selle eest maksta.

"Ta helistas iga päev ja küsis:" Mida ma saan teie heaks teha? "Ta tuli mulle, tõi mulle süüa või tõi mulle pusle. Ühel päeval ütles ta: „Tahaksin teid rannaga sõitma viia. Kas sa arvad, et saad autosse istuda? '

"Siis oli see:" Ma tahan sind lõunale viia. "Vean kihla, et olen temaga viis korda lõunale läinud. Ta jätkab helistamist ja küsib: „Kas teil on midagi vaja?” Ta võttis mind tõesti oma tiiva alla, ”lisab lesk.

La Costa Gleni tegevjuht Susan Hollers nimetab Dykstrat rõõmuks. "Ta on kogu aeg nii positiivne ja nii rõõmsameelne. Ta toob tuppa lihtsalt valgust. ”

Dykstra optimistlik isiksus oli alati tema tunnusjoon. "Mulle meeldivad õnnelikud asjad - naeratused, päikesepaiste ja vikerkaar," ütleb ta. Tema kolleegi toakaaslane andis talle hüüdnime "Päikesepaiste".

Vabatahtlik tegevus ja heateod on pikka aega olnud eluviis - kuid mitte iga päev, naerab ta. Tema ja tema abikaasa sponsoreerisid Iowas elades järjest põgenikeperesid - kaks perekonda Laosest, üks Vietnamist, kaks Bosniast.

Iowas viibides tegi ta seitse aastat sotsiaaltöötajaks õpetamise pausi. "Nii paljudel inimestel on õnnetu elu," ütleb ta. "See oli silmi avav kogemus."

Dykstra nõuab, et ta saaks oma hobist tõeliselt kasu. Eelmisel nädalal ütles naaber talle, et kogukonnal oli õnne, et ta sai. Neljapäeva hommikul astus tema juurde Trader Joe’sse võõras mees, et tema naeratust kiita. Detsembris kinkis noor McDonald'si töötaja talle sageli küpsiseid.

"Tema selleaastane seiklus, kus iga päev on lahkust tehtud, on tõesti puudutanud nii paljude inimeste südant," märgib Hollers. "Pandeemia ajal on inimesed olnud nii isoleeritud ja ta on suutnud inimesi oma kestadest välja tuua ning teha nii palju moraali ja emotsionaalse heaolu nimel."

Lahkuse eeliste kohta on teaduslikke tõendeid. Mayo kliiniku 2018. aasta aruanne viitab mitmetele uuringutele, mis näitavad, et heateod edendavad tervist, osaliselt aktiveerides hormooni oksütotsiin, mis tõstab emotsioone.

"Kui olete inimeste vastu lahke, saate mõnikord seletamatuid üllatusi," ütleb Dykstra

Ta rõhutab, et kõige olulisem õppetund elus on kohelda inimesi nii, nagu soovite, et teid koheldaks.

Dykstra ei kavatse 30. detsembril 2021. aastal peatuda. "Olenemata sellest ajast, mis mul siin maailmas veel on, tahan ma inimeste ellu rõõmu pakkuda."

Pole üllatav, et ta pidi meie reedese vestluse katkestama, et aidata seljakotte elanikele hädaolukorras kasutamiseks ette valmistada.

Hankige Essential San Diego, tööpäeva hommikul

Hankige oma postkasti argipäeva hommikuti peamised pealkirjad Union-Tribune'ilt, sealhulgas tippuudised, kohalikud, spordi-, äri-, meelelahutus- ja arvamusavaldused.

Aeg-ajalt võite saada San Diego Union-Tribune'ilt reklaamisisu.


III. Peegeldused

Järgmised mõtisklused koostati 2015. aasta alguses.

Kaasav peategelasega jutustus, millega igaüks võib suhestuda, peaks olema kvaliteetse ilukirjanduse keskmes, rääkimata edukast ajakirjandusest. Ometi ei räägi kaks inimest ühtmoodi. Kuidas lugu muutub sõltuvalt sellest, kes seda räägib? Millised on selle nähtamatud juured?

See paljastab, kuidas erinevad inimesed kaardistavad politseivastase tegevuse tõusu põlvnemist 2014. aastal. Mõned vaatavad tagasi Trayvon Martini mõrvanud mehe õigeksmõistmisele, mõned Oscar Granti mõrvale, mõned Rodney Kingi rahutustele. Kelle nimesid me mäletame? Fergusonis kuulutas QF -i grafiti välja "LA '92/Watts '65/Hispaania" 36 ". Mis suguvõsa see on?

Demonstrandid, kes sõidavad läbi Fergusoni pärast žürii suurt teadaannet, 24. novembril.


Inimkaubandus: kuidas opioidide epideemia soodustab seksuaalset ärakasutamist Vermontis

Istusin 2013. aasta kuumal augusti pärastlõunal oma köögilaua taga, kui mulle helistati numbrilt, mida ma ära ei tundnud. Vastasin, lootes, et see on mu õde, kellega ma pole mitu nädalat rääkinud. See polnud sugugi ebatavaline - Maddie oli heroiinisõltuvuses ja kadus mõnikord päevade või nädalate jooksul. Nagu alati, kui ma polnud temast midagi kuulnud, olin mures.

Aga liinilt kuulsin mitte õe häält, vaid mees, kes tutvustas end Brooklyni politseidetektiivina. Ma sammusin, kui ta selgitas, et mu õde arreteeriti. Ta oli mulle turvaline, kinnitas ta mulle, kuigi taganes heroiinist. Ta rõhutas, et mul on vaja ta kätte saada kohe, kui ta kohtu alla antakse. Ma pidin ta otse autosse panema ja New Yorgist välja viima.

Ta oli ebamäärane, kui küsisin, mis toimub, ja ma ei viitsinud õelt küsida, millal ta lõpuks telefoni torkas. Ma arvasin, et tema hääl kõlas nii tasaselt, sest ta oli dopingust haige, halli kiltkivi plaat, millest jooksis läbi õhuke meeleheide. Alles järgmisel päeval, kui ta tagasi helistas, selgitas detektiiv lõpuks oma kiireloomulisust: mu õde oli seksikaubanduse teel sattunud "pahade poiste" kätte ja see polnud tema jaoks New Yorgis ohutu.

See, mida ma oma õe kogemusest tean, on nagu tuulest haaratud paberijupid, kui need lehvisid, igaüks kirjutatud erineva käega. Maddie reisi korraldas naine, kellelt ta ostis St. Ta ütles mulle hiljem, et arvas, et hakkab võltsitud krediitkaarte tegema. Ta ütles meie õele Maurale, et ta mullitab heroiini.

Nädal aega seal olles helistas ta oma parimale sõbrale ja palus tal tulla. Ta ütles, et New Yorki jõudes tundus kõik korras olevat, kuid nüüd andsid mehed, kellega ta oli, talle narkootikume, et ta jääks. Ta ei teadnud, kus ta on, kuid ütles, et helistab peagi aadressiga. Nädal hiljem helistas ta uuesti oma sõbrale. Seekord oli ta meeletu ja karjus. Ta oli haaranud telefoni, jooksnud vannituppa ja lukustanud end sisse. Tema sõber kuulis uksel koputamist, kui Maddie anus, et talle järgi tuleks, aga mu õde ei teadnud, kus ta on.

Detektiiv selgitas mulle, et Maddiet hoidsid motellitoas kinni inimesed, kes olid teinud tema foto, postitanud selle veebisaidile, mida kasutati kommertsliku seksi reklaamimiseks, ning sundisid teda seksima meestega, kes vastasid reklaamile heroiini ja ähvardades teda tagasitõmbumisega. Ta arreteeriti, kui politsei tõmbas ta kaubitsejad üle ja leidis ta autost. Nad kasutasid tema taskus olevat narkootikumide tarvikut ettekäändena tema vahistamiseks: nad teadsid, et ta on hädas.

Kuna Maddie vahistamiseks oli välja antud order, ei vabastatud teda pärast kohtuotsust. Selle asemel läks ta vangistusest motellitoas, kus ta oli sunnitud võõrastega seksima, kuni kuue nädala vanglasse Rikersi saarele, enne kui ta Vermontile välja anti. Esimest korda, kui ma teda Rikersis külastasin, nuttis ta, öeldes mulle, et ei saa temaga juhtunust rääkida. "See oli tõesti väga halb, Katie," ütles ta ja sirutas käed, et näidata, kus ta sigarettidega põletati.

Jõud, pettus ja sund

Kui sain selle telefonikõne kuus aastat tagasi, arvasin, et seksikaubandus on midagi, mis juhtus teiste riikide inimestega või naistega, kes toodi siia riiki massaažisalongidesse tööle. Mul polnud aimugi, et see võib midagi juhtuda mu õega. Osalt sellepärast, et ma ei saanud aru, mis on seksikaubandus.

2000. aasta föderaalne inimkaubanduse ja vägivalla ohvrite kaitse seadus määratleb selle kui "kommertsliku seksuaalakti, mis on põhjustatud jõust, pettusest või sundimisest või milles isik, kes kutsus sellise teo toime, ei ole saanud 18 -aastaseks."

Mis vahe on seksikaubandusel ja sellel, mida tavaliselt nimetatakse prostitutsiooniks? Jõud, pettus ja sund. Prostitutsioon, mida nimetatakse ka kaubanduslikuks seksitööks, on see, kui täiskasvanu vahetab vabatahtlikult seksi raha või millegi muu väärtusliku vastu. Seksikaubandus on prostitutsioon, milles täiskasvanu ei soovi osaleda. Alaealised ei saa seaduslikult nõusolekut vahetada seksi väärtusliku asja vastu, olgu selleks sularaha, narkootikumid, toit või magamiskoht, nii et iga kord, kui alaealine osaleb kaubanduslikus seksis, kaubeldakse uuesti.

Seksikaubandus toimub kogu Ameerika Ühendriikides, sealhulgas Vermontis. "See pole ainult Rutlandil, mitte ainult Burlingtonis ja Lõuna -Burlingtonis," ütles Rutlandi linna politseiosakonna ülem Matt Prouty. "Seda juhtub igas kogukonnas - maal, linnas, nimetage seda."

Kaubandusressursid

Kui arvate, et teid või kedagi teie tuttavat kaubeldakse Vermontis, helistage abi saamiseks numbril 2-1-1. If you are a trafficking victim, this will not trigger the involvement of law enforcement unless you want it to.

To contact the National Human Trafficking Hotline, call 1-888-373-7888 or text 233733.

If you or someone you know is in immediate danger, call 9-1-1.

Police, prosecutors and advocates I spoke with described the problem as "big" and "sizable," even "rampant" in the state, but I was warned that what little data there are don't reflect the scope of the problem sex trafficking is significantly underreported. A federal grant application submitted last year by the statewide Human Trafficking Task Force shows that the number of victims who received services in Vermont jumped by almost 400 percent between 2015 and 2017, from 31 to 150 people. The number of sex trafficking investigations doubled in that same period of time, from 31 to 64. And the number of prosecutions nearly tripled, from two to seven.

One of the defendants was Diheim Young, who in 2016 became the first person to be convicted of sex trafficking in Vermont. Later this month, Brian Folks is expected to be the first accused sex trafficker to go before a Vermont jury. Folks has been charged with trafficking five adult women and one minor, though there are many more identified and unidentified victims, according to Abigail Averbach, who was the lead prosecutor on the case before leaving the U.S. Attorney's Office earlier this year.

Both Folks and Young were charged with sex and drug trafficking. Both allegedly used heroin to coerce girls and women into the sex trade. The definition of coercion includes "threats of serious harm" two separate court cases in 2015 established that opioid withdrawal qualifies as serious harm.

"When somebody is withdrawing or detoxing from opiates," explained Aron Steward, assistant clinical director of Woodside Juvenile Rehabilitation Center in Colchester, "they are willing to do anything not to be withdrawing and detoxing from opiates," which makes them vulnerable to being trafficked.

"We have drug pushers that have figured out, 'Hey . if females are addicted [to opioids] we can get control of them, and we can use them profitably to enter them into the sex trade,'" said Lance Burnham, a detective lieutenant with the Vermont State Police.

And the sex trade is profitable, "far more lucrative than drug trafficking," according to Cindy Maguire, an assistant Vermont attorney general. "It's a much better business model," said Averbach, a former assistant U.S. attorney in the state. "You can sell a bag of dope only one time, but you can sell a girl over and over and over again."

A Thin Line

On January 3, 2001, a Vermont teenager was found murdered in a Bronx apartment. Christal Jones, 16, was one of more than a dozen Vermont teenagers and women who had been brought to New York as part of what was described at the time as a "prostitution and heroin ring." No one was ever charged with Jones' death, but two people, Jose Rodriguez and Beverly Holland, were eventually convicted of running two separate businesses in which they lured girls and women from Vermont to New York to do commercial sex work. There is nothing to indicate that heroin was a part of Holland's operation, but the girls under Rodriguez's control, including Jones, did use heroin, and he was ultimately convicted of giving it to one of them.

Jones "was one of our really profound first exposures to this world" said Jackie Corbally, who worked with her in 1999 and 2000 at Spectrum Youth & Family Services and is now opioid policy manager with the Burlington Police Department. "She found herself in this horrible place . and she didn't make it back. It was really new for Vermont, and . there are times where the state has been really naïve."

What happened to Jones and more than a dozen other girls and women was seen as an anomaly most Vermonters remained naïve about sex trafficking for more than another decade. The state was one of the last in the country to enact its own human trafficking statute, in 2011. Even then it did so not because there was a perceived problem — "the driving force was the fact that Vermont did not [yet] have a statute," according to Maguire.

"There's a thin line between prostitution and sex trafficking," a trafficking survivor told me. In the decade after Jones' death, Colchester Police Lt. Jim Roy would frequently run into situations that he said had "all the earmarks" of commercial sex work at area hotels.

At the time many viewed prostitution as a "victimless crime," according to Roy, a transaction between two consenting adults that, while illegal, wasn't hurting anyone. But this idea outraged him. He said he began having "heated conversations" about the fact that "there are victims all down the line of this." He described the signs of addiction he saw in women doing commercial sex work: "visible use marks . veins just all full of puncture holes and blown out from injecting in spots."

"For a long time people were saying there is a choice involved," said Steward, "so it wasn't trafficking, it wasn't a chargeable offense. It was simply a job choice. And in Vermont . people were just saying, 'It simply doesn't happen here.'"

When I asked Heather Ross, a former assistant U.S. attorney who prosecuted Young and served as the cochair of Vermont's Human Trafficking Task Force for three years, whether the problem had been overlooked or was just starting to explode in the past several years, she said, "Yes to both. I do think the opiate addiction crisis has created this horrible situation where people can be so easily controlled by their addiction because the addiction itself is so powerful. But do I also think we were missing it? Yes. I think . it was happening, and we were not aware."

If any of the women Roy encountered were being trafficked, they weren't reporting it. But the crime is rarely reported. Most people who experience it aren't even aware of what sex trafficking is, let alone that it's happening to them. The language they use to describe their experience is the lingo of commercial sex — the life, the game, hustling, going on dates. They see themselves as prostitutes, not victims of sex trafficking.

"Somebody is trafficked over a period of time," Averbach explained, "so you're not getting raped, beaten, burned, threatened each and every time you go out and commit a commercial sex act. You only really need to beat somebody one time. And the rest of the time, you can just threaten to do that again. And so it looks and starts to feel like choice." Some trafficking victims aren't raped, beaten or burned at all, making the line between trafficking and choice even more difficult to see.

Stigma is also a barrier to reporting. "The shame is so great," said Ross, who now works in private practice in Burlington. "I encountered so many victim survivors who felt as if because they had made some bad choices" — using drugs, for example — "therefore everything that happened to them they thought they were responsible for, no matter how bad . They've normalized the experience, they're ashamed of the experience, they feel guilt. That's all part of the traffickers' manipulation as well."

Because sex trafficking is not reported, it must be discovered, and because no one was looking for it in Vermont in the decade after Christal Jones' death, no one was finding it.

'Something Didn't Seem Right'

In 2011, the same year Vermont finally passed its statute, then-assistant U.S. attorney Ross got what is referred to as a "duty case" — federal prosecutors rotate who is on duty to respond to situations that need immediate attention, and Ross happened to be on call when law enforcement came across a car pulled over on the side of a Vermont road. The driver said he was trying to find a farm and had gotten lost. His passenger, a woman in her thirties, was undocumented and had a conviction for prostitution in her home country. She had no idea where she was.

"Something about this even in 2011 didn't seem right," Ross said.

An investigation revealed the driver had brought the woman up from New York City to perform commercial sex work with laborers at farms. That particular case was ultimately not prosecuted as sex trafficking, but Ross and assistant AG Maguire decided to reconfigure the task force that had originally been established to create a human trafficking statute. They invited law enforcement, including Prouty and Burnham, to join, and they focused on training police working in the drug world.

"We did that because we already had the infrastructure in place," said Maguire. "We had cops on the street that were very eager to do drug work." Police were trained to look at drug scenes differently, to recognize that "if there's a woman present . they are likely to be a trafficking victim."

Burnham, who had been in law enforcement for 14 years when he was appointed to the task force in 2013, said that he "didn't know what [sex trafficking] was, didn't know it existed." He had risen through the ranks working in the state's criminal division, where he'd handled sexual assault and child abuse cases in the special investigations unit. When he walked into his first meeting with the task force, he was thinking, "We don't have this problem in Vermont, I know nothing about this, I would have heard about this . It's not something I want to waste my time with."

He left feeling "overwhelmed. I didn't know the issue was as bad as it was. It was an eye-opening experience, to say the least."

"There was a lot of educating about what human trafficking looks like and how people can be controlled through their addiction and that control and force and fraud and coercion [are not] that old-fashioned view of someone locked up in a basement," said Ross. "There are many, many other ways to control people."

"When I wasn't looking for it, I didn't realize it was a problem," Prouty said. "As I started to educate myself . the light bulb went on. Then all of a sudden I'm seeing it everywhere."

A Federal Case

I didn't interview any of the women Brian Folks is accused of sex trafficking, so I can't tell you what they look like, where they grew up, whether they have kids. I don't even know their names court documents identify them by numbers and letters — Victim 1, Minor Victim E — or initials. But after reading those documents I can tell you some of what law enforcement saw when it finally started looking.

Everything that follows is either summarized or taken verbatim from documents filed in the Folks case, including affidavits from law enforcement officers. Everything here is alleged to have happened Brian Folks pleaded not guilty to all of the charges against him and has not yet gone to trial, let alone been convicted. Folks' lawyer had no comment for this article.

From June 2012 through March 2016 Folks allegedly ran a pair of "separate, yet intertwined illegal businesses" in Burlington. One was a prostitution business the other sold heroin and crack. Women who worked for Folks' prostitution business often worked for his drug business, as well, bagging or moving drugs.

In 2012, Victim 4, who was 17 and homeless, fell in love with Folks and soon started having sex with him. When she first heard that Folks prostituted women and sold drugs, she didn't believe it, but when she needed money and asked Folks for help, he took photos of her in her bra and underwear and posted them on Backpage, a website that at the time was used to advertise commercial sex. While at first Folks let her have half the money she made, he eventually began keeping it all.

Victim 1 met Brian Folks in May 2015 and immediately began working for his drug business. Among other duties, Victim 1 said she and other women bagged heroin and crack, which Folks would sometimes demand that they do naked or in their underwear.

Several months after she began working for his drug operation, Folks suggested to Victim 1 that she work for him as a prostitute. She wouldn't at first, but eventually Folks refused to give her heroin, and when she started to become dopesick, he took her to a hotel where she "had her first 'date' as a prostitute." Afterward, Folks picked her up, took more than half of what she had been paid and let her have heroin. After that, Folks, "supplied her with a steady stream of heroin . in what appeared to be an effort to keep her compliant."

Victim 2 was already doing commercial sex work when she met Folks, who responded to her online ad. At their first "date," Folks asked Victim 2 if he could pay her using heroin instead of money, and she agreed. Folks became her dealer, and she paid him for drugs with cash or sex. Folks asked Victim 2 to work for him as a prostitute, but she refused until she was dopesick. Folks tried to withhold drugs until she'd had her first "date" working for him, but after Victim 2 protested he provided her with a small amount of drugs and promised to give her more afterward.

At a trailer in Colchester, Folks used his phone to take "sexually suggestive" photos of Victim 2 and posted them on Backpage. After receiving a response, he drove Victim 2 to the parking lot of the Staples in South Burlington, where she had sex with the man who had responded to the ad in exchange for $100.

Folks allegedly prostituted dozens of women, some through force, fraud or coercion. Once he'd recruited them, he'd post photos of them on Backpage. He kept track of the money they earned and took some or all of it.

If they didn't want to do commercial sex work, Folks forced some of them to, using threats of and actual physical and sexual violence and by withholding the heroin they were addicted to.

He created a "climate of fear" that involved extorting and blackmailing women by threatening to post sexually explicit photos of them online, and then actually doing so, as well as forcing them to have sex with him and his friends before he would let them have heroin. Women who refused or broke his rules were "violated" by Folks — his term to describe punishment.

When one of the alleged victims stole five bags of heroin, Folks told her she was lucky he didn't kill her and that she'd have to "work off" what she'd taken. He drove her to a cemetery near Riverside Avenue in Burlington, where he gave her heroin and forced her to have sex with him next to a dumpster.

Folks made videos in which he "coerced women to engage in humiliating conduct as a method of degrading them in order to further control them." In one video series which, according to court documents, Folks called "That's my bitch you're violating," he urinated on two of his drug workers. In another video he announced, "'I'm just pissing on bitches, man, I'm gonna see how far I can go.'"

I don't know who these women are. I don't know if they have brown hair or blond, if they like to stay inside on rainy days and binge-watch Netflix or go out without an umbrella and feel the rain on their skin. What I do know is that they are not what you just read they are not what is in those court documents. That is who Folks is alleged to be.

If convicted of sex trafficking, he could spend the rest of his life in prison.

Trial and Errors

Folks and Young aren't the only men charged with sex trafficking in Vermont. Timothy Galloway was convicted at the state level. And Naquan Bowie, Anthony Smith, Gary Delima and Sharif Cargo were all charged with sex trafficking but ended up pleading guilty to or being convicted of other crimes, usually drug- or gun-related. Prosecuting sex trafficking cases is challenging, for myriad reasons.

"It takes a long time for these cases to play out," said Averbach, "and in that year or so that it takes to get from charging to verdict, people relapse, people die, people leave the state, people are trafficked again, they become homeless, we lose them." Not only that, testifying can be "retraumatizing" for victims. As a result, prosecutors sometimes allow perpetrators to "plead to something like a drug crime or a firearms count . that doesn't depend on the victim taking the stand and exposing all of the trauma that happened to her," said Averbach.

Even in a best-case scenario when a victim is willing and able to testify, "Our legal system generally, and our criminal justice system in particular, is not very conducive to understanding how trauma impacts someone," said Ross.

For example, juries are instructed to judge the credibility of a witness. Someone who has been sex trafficked "typically doesn't recall information in a linear fashion," according to Ross instead they remember "snatches" of what happened to them. "Our justice system historically has told us that if someone can't give you a story from A to Z, [if there are] inconsistencies in their story, [that] suggests that they're not credible. Well, that doesn't really match with what we know about how trauma affects people and their ability to recall and recite what happened to them."

It's been three years since Folks was initially arrested, seven since his first victim was allegedly trafficked. The case has been delayed numerous times and is on its fourth trial date, which is April 23. Victims and witnesses have died.

A significant delay occurred when one of Folks' lawyers withdrew from representing him. To protect witnesses in the case from being publicly identified, a protective order states that Folks, who is in prison, is "not to be left alone with" the government's witness list, among other materials. But the lawyer inadvertently mailed Folks a copy of the list, which includes the names of his victims. Folks then sent the list to his wife, and it was subsequently photographed and posted on Facebook, according to statements in a court transcript.

"The only purpose of disseminating the list such as this is to quiet these witnesses, to intimidate them, to harass them, and to not cooperate with the government and not be able to testify at trial," Averbach argued during a hearing on the matter.

The judge at the hearing apparently agreed, chastising Folks' then-lawyer: "This is how people get murdered, right?"

'I Owed Him'

Sitting in my living room with her baby sleeping in a car seat beside her, Kathleen told me she was sure her trafficker was going to murder her when she left him, how he would sit in the parking lot of the clinic where she got her methadone, just out of range of the security cameras, and point a gun at her. "The message was basically come back or die," she said.

Kathleen (not her real name) is tall, her dark red hair pulled into a thin ponytail, with icy blue eyes set deeply in their sockets. It's easier to imagine her at the wheel of a station wagon driving her daughter to the grocery store than walking "the strip" in the small southern city where she was trafficked eight years ago.

When I asked Kathleen if she had any happy memories from childhood, she said no: Her father and stepmother physically and emotionally abused her. She moved to Vermont to live with her mother and sister when she was a teenager, then back south, where she joined the Marines. During boot camp she discovered she was pregnant and had to leave.

"I was happy to be a mother," she said, but she had envisioned raising her son with his father, and they separated after he cheated on her before the baby was born.

Through mutual agreement, her son went back and forth between Kathleen and her ex's house. She'd had a drinking problem since she was a teenager, but she didn't get drunk when her son was with her. However, because of her drinking, her ex was granted primary custody when her son was 4 years old Kathleen was allowed to have him every weekend. Soon her ex stopped permitting weekend visits, and then he disappeared. After several days of being unable to reach him, she went to his house: "I'm banging on the door," she said. "I looked through the windows and everything's gone. My son was gone, [my ex] was gone, everything was gone."

After a couple of months of not being able to locate her son, she started using hard drugs, "mostly cocaine," Kathleen said. Since her son was born, she had been living a stable life in the small county where she grew up. But after he disappeared, "I couldn't stand looking at everything without my son there," she said, and she moved to a small city 90 miles away.

There her drug use worsened, though she didn't use opioids until she injured her wrist in a car accident and a doctor prescribed her oxycodone. "He didn't even give me an MRI," she recalled, "just prescribed me this opiate." He continued to prescribe it until she showed up for her appointment one day and found "yellow tape everywhere. The doctor had been shut down because he'd been illegally prescribing."

By then she was addicted, though she hadn't realized that was why she got sick when she didn't take the pills, that she was starting to withdraw. "I knew that I had a drinking problem," she said, "but I didn't think that the drugs were a problem." She started buying oxys illegally, and when she lost her job and then her apartment, a dealer offered her pills and a place to stay. It was all free at first, "but I owed him," she said. After a couple of weeks, when he told her she needed to pay back her debt, she had no other choice but to do what he asked. "I didn't have anywhere else to go," she said. The dealer rented all of the apartments in one building, out of which he ran his businesses — drugs and prostitution. The 10 to 15 women who worked for him at a time stayed in one apartment and worked out of another that Kathleen called the "brothel."

Her trafficker told Kathleen that she was too good for prostitution, that she could leave anytime she wanted. "He was like, 'Hey, if you ever want to stop, you just let me know and I won't sell you anything else and you can get out of the life on the spot.'

"I legitimately believed that everything was my choice," she said, though there were "red flags." The women were regularly beaten for breaking the rules, of which there were many, including quotas they had to meet. They weren't allowed to buy drugs from anyone but the trafficker. He took all of the money they made, except for a few dollars here and there to buy food. She still thought she could leave if she wanted to and that the other women were choosing to be there as well, though she never saw anyone try to go.

"He made it seem like he cared about our lives," Kathleen said. "Like, 'Nobody will care for you more than I will.'" And at this point Kathleen didn't care about her own life. "Drugs were the only thing I lived for," she said. "I was hoping that I would die at some point. I wanted it to end, I wanted to die without my son, without having a purpose. I didn't care about myself anymore."

For 10 months Kathleen worked for her trafficker, having sex with buyers she met on the strip or who responded to an ad on Backpage. And then she learned that her son and his father were living not too far away she had a reason to live. "I wanted to clean up," she said, "and I wanted to be part of my son's life again if at all possible."

At that point, "I felt like I could never leave, I was afraid to, but because he told me I was allowed to, I decided to try it." One of her customers had told her that if she ever wanted to get out of the life she could come and live with him. She paid her trafficker the $20 she owed him and even gave him a tip, and then told him she was leaving.

"He took out a nightstick in front of the other girls and beat me from head to toe," she said. "I ripped three toenails off trying to get away from him. He split my head open." And then he locked her in a room in the apartment they called the brothel he cleaned her wounds he apologized for beating her but "he told me it was for my own good and that I needed to stay in line now." For two weeks he kept her locked in that room, but he didn't leave her alone there. He would bring customers to the room and force her to have sex with them, and in between "he would give me small amounts of substances to get me through."

Two weeks later, he let her out of the room thinking she had learned her lesson and sent her out on the strip. When she recognized an undercover cop, she saw an opportunity and propositioned him to get herself arrested. After she was released from jail, she got on methadone and went to live with the customer who said he would take her in. When her trafficker continued to stalk her, she started a rumor that she was dead and moved back to Vermont.

'No Other Choice'

What happened to Kathleen bears some similarities to sex trafficking cases in Vermont. But people I spoke with cautioned me that there is no "usual way" trafficking occurs, in Vermont or anywhere.

"Every single case looks different," said Steward of Woodside.

While most known cases involve women, men are trafficked as well.

Children are also victimized. Between 2014, when officials began tracking these data, and 2018, the Department for Children and Families received more than 125 reports that involved children being sex trafficked. DCF does not track whether opioids played a role in those cases, but I was told "anecdotally" that drugs are more likely to be a factor with younger children, ages 6 to 9, who are being trafficked by their parents or other caregivers, possibly to support an opioid addiction.

Seven Days has also reported on Vermont massage parlors that offer illegal sexual services and whose employees are likely victims of trafficking, but where opioids are usually not involved.

If there is one thing sex trafficking cases have in common, it is that they are usually invisible. Even after I thought I understood what trafficking looks like, how insidious it can be, I didn't see it when it was right in front of me.

Suzanne (not her real name) was one of the first people I spoke to for this story. She told me she hadn't been sex trafficked, and I agreed with her until weeks later, when I played a recording of our interview. As her soft, hoarse voice unspooled in my kitchen one night, I heard what I had missed when we first talked.

I met Suzanne on a wintry Sunday afternoon after she'd gotten home from church. We had planned to get together several times, but Suzanne had canceled repeatedly. She messaged me as I was on my way to meet her that afternoon saying she was so nervous she felt sick but that I should come anyway. When I arrived, she was waiting for me on the front porch.

Suzanne cries easily, but she smiles easily, too, and when she does she covers her mouth with her hand to hide the fact that she's missing her front teeth, which were knocked out by an abusive boyfriend. If you walked by her on the street and didn't know her, you probably wouldn't notice her. But when you're sitting across from her listening to her talk, you don't want to leave.

When Suzanne was 13 years old, she sneaked out of her family's Franklin County home and went to a party, where she got drunk and stoned for the first time. All night she resisted a 19-year-old guy who was coming on to her. "I kept saying, "'No, no, no,'" she told me, but he had sex with her when she passed out. She got pregnant and had her first baby when she was 14 years old.

"For two years I did it all on my own," Suzanne said. "School, daycare, homework, school, daycare, homework, and then I tried working as well, and that didn't work." When she was 16 it "all came crashing down." She had what she described as a nervous breakdown that started with an anxiety attack, during which she was sure she was dying. She dropped out of school and left her daughter in her mother's care.

"I just wanted to experience life," she said, "but I did it wrong by partying and using." For a year straight she smoked crack. "And then one day I had enough and I called my mom, and she came and got me." Back at her mom's house, she slept for days.

For the next several years Suzanne stayed away from hard drugs. She got married, had a second and third child, left her husband. But she lost custody of her kids for reasons unrelated to drug use, and "that's when things got bad," she said. "I failed as a mom and that's the only thing I wanted in life." She soon started taking opioid-based painkillers, which "just made me feel so much better," she said. "Drugs were like an antidepressant for me. They made me numb, and I didn't have to think about anything." She worked long hours at a job she liked, and while opioids make some people sleepy, they helped Suzanne to stay awake.

As her habit worsened, she went to rehab at Maple Leaf Farm and tried medication-assisted treatment when she got out, but the clinic required that she attend three group sessions a week, which didn't work with her job. She went off her medication and "ended up relapsing, of course," she said.

When she was 25, she started dating a man named Harold and went to live with him in upstate New York. "I thought he was the love of my life," she said, but he quickly became abusive. He knocked out her teeth, broke a bottle over her head. When Harold was sent to prison for a year on unrelated charges, Suzanne returned to her mother's house in Vermont. She now had an expensive opioid habit but no job to pay for it, so when a farmworker she knew told her he had friends who "needed someone," she started doing sex work at farms in Franklin and Addison counties.

"I went from farm to farm," she said, having sex with migrant workers she made $700 a night "at least." At times Suzanne spoke almost affectionately about the men who bought sex from her, whom she called her "friends" and referred to as "good people." But "bad stuff" was happening as well: She cried as she described a customer holding a gun to her head. Another night a man she refused to have sex with attacked her and bit her clitoris so badly she had to go to the hospital, though she didn't report what happened because she didn't want the other men, some of whom were in the country illegally, to get in trouble.

Other women she met at farms had pimps who drove them and took a cut of what they made. There were some she thought were probably being trafficked, girls who were underage or whose drivers were gang members, who arrived in cars with out-of-state plates.

If Suzanne had a pimp, it wasn't a human it was a pill. She started doing the sex work to support her addiction, but "I needed a lot of drugs to do that. Selling your body, the whole time you're pretty much killing yourself mentally, thinking about how worthless you are and how this is how your life is always going to be, this is all you're good for."

When Harold got out of jail, Suzanne wanted to stop working, but he "kind of enforced it," she said.

This is what I missed the first time I heard her story. This is what I didn't hear:

Suzanne wanted to stop working, but Harold "kind of enforced it because we needed the money. He said, 'Well, you did it while I was in jail you can do it now. It's more important now.'" He was "not forceful like he was going to kill me over it, but enough to where I knew I had no other choice."

I think of Suzanne covering her smile with her hand to hide the missing teeth that Harold punched out of her mouth. Of her knocking on doors in the middle of the night in rural upstate New York trying to find help after he had beaten her up. Harold didn't have to hit Suzanne when he insisted she prostitute herself. Everything about her life with him showed her that when he made that demand, she didn't have a choice.

'Make It Stop'

When my sister died last fall, I described in her obituary the week and a half Maddie was home with our family a couple months earlier. What I didn't mention was that she had returned to Vermont from Rhode Island via a New Hampshire prison after being sex trafficked again. This time the cigarette burns were on her face, and she'd been burned on her feet, as well, with a curling iron, after she tried to run away.

When Maddie was trafficked in New York in 2013, there was very little awareness that sex trafficking existed in Vermont, let alone services to help people who had survived it. By the time she returned to Vermont last summer, the state's Human Trafficking Task Force had trained more than 2,000 individuals, including police officers, hotel staff, teachers and health care workers, to recognize signs of the crime. There was a human trafficking caseworker based out of the South Burlington Police Department. Since her position was created a year and a half ago, that caseworker has worked with 70 victims of sex trafficking, including my sister and Kathleen.

She helped Maddie enroll in medication-assisted treatment, set up her phone, find clothes. Together they developed a plan: As a condition of her release from the New Hampshire jail, Maddie was entering an outpatient program at Brattleboro Retreat. While she was there, the caseworker was going to help her apply to a long-term residential program outside of Boston for women who have been trafficked. She was experiencing intense post-traumatic stress disorder, she was craving drugs, she was heartsick over not being able to see her son, but she seemed hopeful.

There is now a second caseworker, in Rutland, dedicated solely to working with victims of human trafficking. Both of these positions were created by the Human Trafficking Task Force, which for the past nine years has operated essentially as an ad hoc group of volunteers. "We have no statutory authority, we have no budget, we are voluntary," said Maguire.

Last fall the group received a $1.2 million federal grant that will be used to hire three additional people to work full time on human trafficking in the state. "The focus has primarily been on education and awareness," said Maguire, but with this grant the focus will shift to "victim services and also a much more coordinated effort by law enforcement."

In Burlington the task force is currently "working with the mayor on a three-step housing solution," according to Averbach, which would comprise short-term, emergency beds for victims in crisis, an intermediate step of up to 30 days in which they can begin to stabilize, and long-term housing with wraparound services.

Equally important is helping survivors recover emotionally from what they've experienced.

After Kathleen was trafficked and moved back to Vermont, she started going by "Kathy." "I didn't want to be [Kathleen] anymore," she said. Her addiction intensified as she used drugs to cope with what happened to her. "I would have full physical flashbacks," she said, "and coming out of that I would need to use something just to make it stop." She began using heroin, while before she had only taken pills.

Six months ago, Kathleen's daughter was born while she was incarcerated at Chittenden Regional Correctional Facility in South Burlington. A week later they were reunited at the Lund Family Center in Burlington, where they now live. For the first time, Kathleen has been addressing the trauma at the root of her addiction. She's in therapy she hopes to go to college in the fall she's made herself a shield that hangs on her wall to remind her of her coping skills. And she has started going by Kathleen again. "I realized there was nothing wrong with [Kathleen]," she said. "She just needs a lot of help."

"We need to understand this is a form of trauma," said Corbally of the Burlington Police Department, "that trauma services need to be offered to these women. We need to recognize that this is a co-occurring issue," meaning that survivors of sex trafficking often have substance-use and mental-health issues that need to be treated in order to fully recover. "We're all after the same goal, which is to make sure women are safe and getting services, but we're doing it within the confines of a system that is not fully caught up to us," said Corbally. "It's really significant that the system catch up, because it's happening, it's out there, it's going on every single day."

Between the two times my sister was aware she was trafficked, she did sex work. Her boyfriend, who was physically abusive, relied on her to do that work to support their addictions. He also publicly shamed her for it on his Facebook page, posting that the mother of his son was a prostitute.

Traffickers don't just use violence or drugs to coerce their victims into having commercial sex they manipulate their relationship with them. "The biggest form of coercion I have seen," said Matt Prouty, "is love."

In the weeks I've been working on this story, I've wondered if any of the nameless women described in the court documents I've read were Maddie. If she worked for Folks or Galloway, if it was one of them she was running from when she called my mom at 4 a.m. one March night last year from a Dunkin' Donuts using a stranger's cellphone. It was 15 degrees outside, but she was barefoot and had a black eye. My mom picked her up and took her home, but she didn't want help as soon as her bruise faded she was gone. My mom later found texts Maddie had sent from her phone: I'm ready to party if you have any drugs.

"I take every opportunity that I can get to have a conversation with people about [this]," Prouty said. "I tell them what I've seen, what I've heard, what I've known traffickers have done to their victims. I'm talking about the God-awful underbelly of the sex market that nobody wants to talk about. And I ask, 'What if this was your son or daughter? What if it was your wife?"

What if it was your sister?

I'm telling you about Maddie so this story is not just a list of pseudonyms and anonymous voices. In newspaper articles and court documents, we change the names of the women this happened to we don't reveal their identities in order to protect them. But we didn't protect them. For a long time we didn't protect them because we didn't know sex trafficking was happening. But now we do. Now you know it is happening. And now you know what it looks like.

Abi vajama?

If you or someone you love are suffering from opioid use disorder and need treatment and support resources, here's how to get connected:

  • In Vermont: Call 2-1-1, a free and confidential resource hotline provided by the United Way of Vermont.
  • Outside Vermont: Call 1-800-662-HELP, a free, confidential 24-hour hotline run by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration.

"Hooked: Stories and Solutions From Vermont's Opioid Epidemic" is made possible in part by funding from the Vermont Community Foundation, the University of Vermont Health Network and Pomerleau Real Estate. The series is reported and edited by Seven Days news staff underwriters have no influence on the content.