Inwardly, former U.S. Air Force Staff Sergeant Stacy Pearsall was seething. Her future seemed like a dead end. In fact, she had pondered suicide not once, but several times. There, sitting in a waiting room at the Ralph H. Johnson VA Medical Center in Charleston, South Carolina, she was convinced the decks were stacked against her.
Four years prior in 2004, Ms. Pearsall had sustained a traumatic brain injury, spine trauma, and a ruptured eardrum after being hit by an improvised explosive device (IED) while deployed in Iraq. “I received out-patient care from a flight doctor, who did a basic triage, gave me Motrin, and released me,” she said. She was back on mission the next day. “My neck pain was explained away as whiplash. My splitting headache was attributed to concussion, which would later be diagnosed as traumatic brain injury.”
After several more deployments and another IED incident in 2007, Ms. Pearsall was medically retired and awarded a Bronze Star for her courageous actions on duty. She had begun making regular visits to the VA hospital in Charleston, and that was where she met a veteran who inspired her to change her thinking and life around.
“Please don’t come talk to me,” she thought as an elderly veteran approached her. “And he sat down next to me, and I can feel him staring at me. … I wanted to lash out at all the darkness that was sort of brewing inside of me, I just wanted to spew out on him,” Ms. Pearsall recalled.
But something held her back. The man who approached her was World War II veteran Mickey Dorsey, who had found his postwar purpose as a volunteer at the VA. Mr. Dorsey had survived D-Day and helped liberate the Nazis’ Gunskirchen Lager concentration camp. Over the years at the VA, slowly and reassuringly, he tried to help put the nightmares of fellow veterans to rest.
Watching Mr. Dorsey and others put aside their own stories for the sake of others was an epiphany. Ms. Pearsall decided she would use photography to capture the inner essence of the men and women who had given so much for their country. She started with photo equipment from the VA. Little did she know that those photographic portrait sessions would eventually emerge as a nationwide platform, the Veterans Portrait Project, for veterans to receive the recognition they are due.
Giving Her All
The daughter of an air traffic controller for the U.S. Navy and a mother who stressed the importance of creativity, Ms. Pearsall, now 44, joined the Air Force at 17. She started as an Air Force photographer and displayed her talent; she was named Military Photographer of the Year by the National Press Photographer Association in 2003.
After her first IED blast in Iraq, she returned home for medical care. The Air Force soon placed her in the military photojournalism program at Syracuse University’s S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications. There, Ms. Pearsall honed her professional skills and would later put them to use in the 1st Combat Camera Squadron that documents combat operations, special operations, and humanitarian relief missions.
Nancy Austin, deputy director of military programs at the Syracuse program, praised the strong work ethic Ms. Pearsall displayed while going through tremendous physical and psychological trauma. “She soaked up all she could learn, always went the extra mile, and even took an extra class that was not part of the curriculum,” Ms. Austin said.
After receiving her photojournalism certification in 2005, Ms. Pearsall returned overseas on combat duty. But the second IED incident made it a short-lived mission. The Veteran Portrait Project gave her a new sense of purpose. To date, she has touched down in all 50 states and photographed approximately 8,500 veterans in nearly 200 photo sessions. Each high-resolution portrait is handed to the individual subject and can be shared with family, friends, and through social media. What began informally in a hospital waiting room in Charleston has transformed into a sprawling nonprofit that honors veterans in a very personal way.
Michael McNamara, an Army veteran and chief of outreach, marketing, and advertising for the New England VA healthcare system, explained why Ms. Pearsall’s work has resonated with fellow veterans. “I believe veterans see this as a way of telling their story,” he said. “Some want to display their pride for their time served, while others wish to show they are okay and have made it since their service.” Many times, Ms. Pearsall’s portraits have served as a springboard to public discussions about the struggles local vets face. “The U.S. has been an all-volunteer military for over 50 years,” observed Mr. McNamara, and unlike during World War II, “a very small percentage of Americans actually raise their hand and volunteer. Those that do, need their stories told. Stacy has found a profound and lasting way to do this.”
Ms. Austin added that the photo project was a form of healing for Ms. Pearsall. “She was giving to others and connecting to fellow veterans. … Stacy has a way of making people feel like they are special and important. I believe that is because the people Stacy meets are special and important to her.” Though Ms. Pearsall has met thousands of veterans throughout her 16-year crusade, there is one she’s photographed that she will never forget. His name is Tommy Clack.
Mr. Clack was hit by a mortar round in Vietnam and lost a leg and an arm. He was found without a pulse and placed on a pile of the dead. A doctor later had second thoughts, declared him alive, and shipped him to a VA hospital, where he survived 33 operations. Mr. Clack has spent his life post-combat helping veterans apply for medical benefits.
“Tommy is inspiring because of his perseverance and grit, his unwavering devotion to his faith and nation, his dedication to family and the veteran community, and of course, his unending supply of love and grace,” Ms. Pearsall said. “He is my hero.”
Ms. Pearsall’s thoughtful photography has been displayed at the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery, the Pentagon, the ceremonial entrance to Arlington National Cemetery, and the National Veterans Memorial and Museum in Ohio, among other institutions. At the museum in Ohio, which features exhibits on veterans’ challenges, sacrifices, achievements, and how they are using their skills during active duty to contribute to their communities, Ms. Pearsall’s work hangs in the Great Hall, while some of her war photography became the museum’s first traveling exhibit. The portraits on display show the “then and now” of 22 veterans: “One side of the photo is from a person’s military service, and the other is the same person but as a veteran after service,” according to National Veterans Memorial and Museum director Andy Cloyd.
Finding Peace
Today, Ms. Pearsall lives in Harleyville, South Carolina, with her husband, a former colleague at the 1st Combat Camera Squadron. When she first met Master Sergeant Andy Dunaway, she sized him up as “one of the good ol’ boys.” “He walked around with that kind of swagger, and he was senior to me, not just in rank, but in experience as well,” she said.
But when she got to know him better, she knew that she had found a partner for life. Following their retirement, they searched for a place of solitude and calm. “He struggled with post-traumatic stress, and I was obviously dealing with my own demons,” Ms. Pearsall said, so they found a small country town to set down roots.
When she isn’t running her nonprofit, she and her husband spend much of their time tending to their prized European Brabant draft horses. She grew up around horses and has felt a strong connection to them ever since. “At times, they have been my babysitter, therapist, and companion. When in their company, there is no need for words. … Put simply, they make me smile. Who couldn’t do with a little more of that in their life?”
This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.
