Goodwill features two Bend workers in national campaign

When Abby Wilson was a teenager and forced to store an antique dining table and chairs in the room she shared with her sister (after being cut off from storing anything else in the family garage) she never realized her affinity for vintage items would benefit her years later as a retail store supervisor.

“I got really into it. I’d pump the adults at estate auctions for information and they were very generous,” Wilson said. Today, the Bend Goodwill store where Wilson works is No. 1 in the region’s e-commerce system, where the nonprofit sells its more valuable items.

But the reason Goodwill Industries of the Columbia Willamette, which operates stores in Oregon and southwest Washington, lauds Wilson as an exceptional employee goes beyond her success with the store’s Web sales.

She, and fellow supervisor Stacey Dodge, exemplify Goodwill’s mission: changing lives through employment.

“These ladies are amazing. They have transformed their lives,” said Dale Emanuel, public relations manager for Goodwill Industries of the Columbia Willamette. She met both when they were selected to be profiled in the corporation’s in-house magazine and again when both Bend women were chosen for a national media campaign.

Abby Wilson

Wilson, 54, moved with her husband, Bill, to Bend six years ago. At age 39, Wilson had her larynx removed, leaving her prone to infection and sensitive to climate. She’s been fighting an aggressive thyroid cancer since she was only 32, fallout from childhood radiation treatments for a facial birthmark.

Her many years of treatment, surgeries and recoveries left an indelible mark.

“People at work made my job a misery,” Wilson said, speaking in the raspy voice created by covering up the opening in her neck, which forces air from her lungs into her mouth and lips. “Before (during the years of cancer treatment) I looked and sounded like the same person, but once the larynx came out, they all knew. That was the hardest thing for me, not noticing the looks.”

Seemingly overnight, Wilson understood what is like for the disabled: the comments, the stares, being overlooked and judged. Her kids were protective and took it hard if people were insensitive to their mom. Her husband was a rock, she said, but most adults didn’t seem to know how to treat her.

“People think they’re in a soundproof booth and you can’t hear them,” Wilson said. “And I don’t have a thick skin.”

Demoralized, Wilson nonetheless stayed at her job in retail sales, despite a promised promotion that vanished, needing the insurance coverage. After her youngest child was out of the nest, the couple took what Wilson calls a “leap of faith” and moved to Central Oregon.

Hearing that Goodwill’s Job Connections program specialized in workers with barriers to employment, Wilson signed on and was placed in a retail/medical job suited to her skills. But immediately it became evident, she said, that her new employer was having trouble with her disability.

“Some days I’d come home feeling beat up; it just wears you down after awhile,” she said.

Wilson kept in touch with the staff at Job Connections and that led to a supervisor position at the Bend Goodwill store. She’s been so successful there that the company nominated her for a national award that honors employees who exemplify the Goodwill mission.

Wilson beat out hundreds of other employees for the Edgar J. Helms Award this year.

“I don’t want to be the object of pity, even though I’ve gone through what most people will never have to,” Wilson said. “I don’t feel sorry for me. It’s life and you deal with it the best you can.”

Stacey Dodge

Some days, Stacey Dodge says, she feels like she has “vulnerable” stamped on her forehead. “But I’m working to get better and I feel like I’m making progress,” said the 46-year-old single mother.

Dodge’s job as a production assistant at the Bend Goodwill store — where she’s viewed as a “dynamo,” according to Emanuel — has contributed a lot to her sense of self-worth but it has been a long journey for the woman who was raised to be, above all, a good girl.

“My grandpa was preacher and I was basically raised by my grandparents,” Dodge said. “I was very naive and broke away.”

She was married by 25, to a fun, charming man who would turn abusive and controlling, Dodge said. With four kids and few job skills — not to mention the voice of her family telling her to remain obedient to her husband — she stayed for more than 10 years. “He had guns and let me know he would never let me leave with the kids,” she said. “But I turned a corner eventually and it became about keeping my kids alive.” In an escape that sounds like a movie script, Dodge sought help from friends and escaped while her then-husband was at work. He eventually found her and the family had to move again, this time to Bend.

“Getting out in the world and finding a job, it was hard,” Dodge said. “It was like starting over, trying to find out who I was. I had to build myself up, because I had been cut down for so many years I felt like I had no potential.” When she handed out her first few résumés around Bend, she said, she’d cry.

“Not a good first impression, I know,” she said wryly.

Her first job in the area turned out to be a disaster, with a boss who regularly demeaned his employees.

But after her bad work situation started to affect her health, she started looking around for opportunities.

“I was starting to feel like a victim again,” Dodge said. “I was getting a paycheck, but I wasn’t controlling my situation.” She found Job Connections and signed up for the program (after crying during her first visit). She was referred to the Bend Goodwill store, where her job turned out to be a perfect fit. Dodge was unwilling to work when her kids were out of school, and the store built her schedule around that.

“No company is perfect, but they are so good here,” she said. “The people I work with are part of my family.”

At home, Dodge continued to work hard at raising her kids in a manner that would give them more power and independence than she experienced. Yet when her ex-husband showed up at a performance for her sons’ metal rock band, her first instinct was to run, as she had before.

“But I went right up to him and asked what he wanted,” Dodge said, her pride evident. “It was a turning point. Later, my son said, ‘You know, he’s not so big anymore.’ I knew if I ran again it would teach my kids to always be afraid.”

She describes herself as a completely different person from young Stacey. She encourages her kids to ask questions and talk to her about everything, something she could never do as a child.

“I’m very outspoken now. I don’t stand there and let anyone get bullied,” Dodge said. “I’m always for the person who can’t stand up for themselves. The world’s a scary place when you have no power.”

Sharing the message

When the commercial production team arrived in Bend on Sept. 23, it was serious business. Wilson has a long driveway, but it couldn’t contain the nearly two dozen equipment trucks, a catering van and vehicles holding makeup artists, sound technicians and production assistants.

In her cozy backyard, crews set up lights, monitors, screens and boom microphones.

Emanuel was on hand, and obviously thrilled that filming had finally begun.

“We want to tell people who they are serving when they donate to our stores,” she said. “People see us as the world’s largest yard sale, but we’re so much more.” She cites a statistic: 62,000 people went through Goodwill’s various job programs last year in this region alone.

The commercial spot will air in the Northwest and potentially nationwide, according to Emanuel. In addition, radio spots will be created from the taping, as well as a mini-documentary for the company’s website.

In her bedroom, Wilson was nonplussed by the controlled chaos. As crew members, all with earpieces, buzzed around her, she shrugged. Compared with the years she fought cancer and today, as she struggles to keep healthy, this is nothing.

“I’m not going to let what happened to me dictate my life more than it already does. I’m not going to give it that power,” Wilson said.

The day before Dodge was in the spotlight, with cameras following her at work, at play and near her home.

“I never hesitated to agree to the commercial,” she said. “If it helps one person, it’s worth it.”