The Orlando Sentinel from Orlando, Florida • Page 39

The Orlando Sentinel Paul McCartney goes classic TV people, E-6 WEDNESDAY, October 30, 1991 WW rip--- I- ff A friend for moms in labor 'Doulas' back the father up and provide emotional support in the delivery room. They also may make births easier. By Nancy Imperiale nj '2 ISO xml if "III 0 I I III If I Retiree Lew Petzold is fulfilling his dream: To feed the hungry and help Whatever lie TOM BURTONSENTINEL the homeless of Central Florida, imd0 to tlie OF THE SENTINEL STAFF Since the first cave woman uttered an encouraging grunt to her struggling sister, women have given birth surrounded by other women. Then came the Lamaze movement in the 1960s. Dad and his Earth shoes shuffled into the delivery room to lend a helping hand.

Women gave their blessing let the father share in the full birth experience. Now the role of the husband in childbirth is being re-examined. No one is proposing he be sent back to the waiting room to pace and chain-smoke. But some suggest it's unfair to expect him to be a pillar of support while his wife, writhes and moans and calls him ugly names. "He's in pain, seeing the woman he loves going through pain," said Sara Lie-bling, director of midwifery at Stork's Corner Birth Center in Fern Park.

"He needs a backup." And so does mom, especially the estimated 20 percent of mothers who give birth without a husband or any other family member on hand. Enter the doula. It's a Greek word used to describe woman trained to provide emotiohal support for a laboring mother and her family. Doulas, also called labor companions, are paid to murmur reassurances, anticipate procedures and act as patient advocates in explaining birth options. They can also help the new mother at home.

Fees range from $200 to $500 depending on the extent of their duties and the part of the country in which they work. Paid doulas are increasingly common in the northeastern United States, but are rare south of the Mason-Dixon line." Liebling and partner Carl Jones of New Hampshire, who has authored 10 books on childbirth, conducted a three-day labor-companion training program in Orlando this month. They plan to take the training session to 10 other states by next summer. Meanwhile, paid labor companions are getting more widespread attention since a leading medical journal published findings that women attended by doulas had easier births. "We've had a great many calls from peo- pie all over the country who want to learn to become doulas," said Dr.

John Kennell, principal author of the study and chief of child development at Rainbow Babies and Children's Hospital and Case Western Re-, serve University, Cleveland. Published in the May 1 Journal of the American Medical Association, the study reported that women who gave birth comforted by doulas had significantly fewer Caesarean sections and other medical interventions than those who gave birth without doulas. Kennell is more than three years into another study on whether couples with doulas have better births than those with husbands as sole coaches. Although hesi- Please see DOULAS, E-4 small. It started in 1984 when he discovered that a family at his Winter Park church had fallen on hard times.

Too proud to tell anyone, the family quietly struggled to make ends meet. But Petzold noticed something was wrong. He began delivering boxes of Jpod to their house, to tide them through the-lean times. Soon he learned of other fam- poor ilies in the same situation. Before long he was calling on bakeries for donations of day-old bread.

He asked supermarket produce managers to donate the fruits and vegetables that would be tossed out. His home became headquarters for his miniature food bank. Using a spare refrigerator, he brought food in one day and moved it out the next, relying on his wife, their five teen-aged children and a few friends to help him make deliveries. Ed Myers, former Longwood mayor and one of Petzold's handful of volunteers, remembers the early days well. "His house was so full that you couldn't walk through it.

It was like walking through a tunnel. There was clothing and food stacked everywhere on the porch, all around the pool. I don't think they could even get to the pool because there was so much stuff around it." By 1988, neighbors began to complain about the number of people streaming to Petzold's door. The city of Winter Park threatened to shut down Petzold's shoestring charity when a benefactress came to the rescue. She offered Petzold and his group, which he had named the Human Crisis Council, use of a warehouse not far from downtown Winter Park.

Today, Petzold's non-profit, organization defies any labels. It's an organization that struggles to pay the electric bill each month, yet manages to hand out food to an average of 200 families a day. It's an operation that gets no monetary Pease set PETZOLD, E-3 1 Greg Dawson TELEVISION So where was CBS after the big game? A week away from the word processor gave me the opportunity to step back and reconsider the current state of television and society NOT. Are you kidding? I tuned out, turned off and dropped out. Except, that is, for the World Series, The Implosion, EastEnders, I'll Fly Away and odd moments ofC-SPAN.

Amazing, isn't it, how much TV you can watch even when you think you're not watching. Some notes and comments of an off-duty couch potato: For a couple of guys who didn't have a flawless Series themselves, CBS announcers Jack Buck and Tim McCarver were a bit hard on Lonnie Smith for his base-running gaffe in game seven. "Unforgivable!" they cried, several times. Hey, the guy failed to score from first on a double. It's not like he was the one who leaked the FBI report on Anita Hill.

The difference between Smith's mistake and McCarver's excruciating banalities was that CBS didn't play back McCarver's half a dozen times. Yes, he provided the occasional insight, but McCarver gave me hives with his strained attempts at cleverness and his lame segues. (He had one involving the Sea World blimp that was so bad I've repressed it.) CBS camera work was generally superb when the cameras were turned on. That did not include most of the Twins' on-field and locker-room celebration after the final out. We missed the poignant image (reported in the press) of the Braves' Ron Gant congratulating the Twins, and were given only a fleeting glimpse of some Twins taking a giddy victory lap around the diamond before their adoring fans.

Was champagne uncorked and poured over heads in the Twins' locker room? Did any of the victors weep a la Michael Jordan after the Bulls won the NBA title? Inquiring minds wanted to know. Unfortunately, CBS was too busy milking the postgame for commercial breaks, apparently trying to break the record set by NBC during the 1988 Summer Olympics. Most pathetic public spectacle of the Series had to be McDonald's attempt to get "ethnic" with commercials using B.B. King-style blues and a jingle based on "Tradition" from Fiddler on the Roof. It was like watching some Daughters of the American Revolution doing the lambada.

If you don't got it, McDonald's, don't try to flaunt it soul, I mean. You don't have to be a victim of sound-bite politics in the upcoming presidential campaign if you have cable. I highly recommend C-SPAN's Hood to the White House series, which offers uncut coverage of candidate press conferences and campaign appearances. (The series airs at various times.) The contrast between the 30-second sound bite and the whole nine yards can be striking devastatingly so in the case of former California Gov. Jerry Brown.

When Brown announced for president recently, the sound bites on the evening news made him sound reasonably eloquent. Only by watching the uncut version on C-SPAN would you know that Brown's declaration of candidacy was actually a windy, formless, uninspired piece of New Age boilerplate. At the other extreme was New York Gov. Mario Cuomo's masterly performance last week before a group of radio and TV news directors. The networks ignored the event, presumably because Cuomo is not yet in the race for the Democratic nomination.

But C-SPAN considers him a likely candidate and carried the appearance in full. Cuomo was spellbinding. For Bush aides, it was the stuff that nightmares are made of. The Implosion was everything it was hyped to be, well worth staying up until 1:30 a.m. I think I would have given up the ghost and gone to bed if Channel 8 hadn't stayed on the air with coverage (while channels 2 and 9 kept ducking in and out).

Channel 9 bragged about all its camera angles, but 6 hustled up more enterprising angles, like new reporter Shepard Smith's piece on dogs in the crowd. (It was late and my brain was going soft, OK?) By the way, the decision for 6 to go with continuous coverage was made by its new executive producer for news, Josh Loory, who spent seven years at CNN as executive producer of its primary news- casts. Channels 2 and, be on your guar. it goes By Linda Shrieves OF THE SENTINEL STAFF Hidden in a corner of Winter Park far from the city's posh Park Avenue shopping district or the onetime winter homes of the Fords anc the Rockefellers sits a rundown cin-derblock warehouse where the discards of society go. Day-old bread, bruised fruit, limp vegetables.

Jeans without zippers, shirts without buttons, dresses in out-of-date styles. Sagging sofas, beat-up bicycles, used wheelchairs all find their way to the warehouse. It is a junkman's dream. And it is entirely Lew Pet-zold's vision. Every day this 68-year-old retired real-estate magnate surrounds himself with the throwaways of American life.

He cherishes the trash that is casually tossed on the curb, giving it to people down on their luck, between jobs or struggling to make ends meet. "If you learn anything around here," says Petzold, "it's that Americans throw away everything." Lew Petzold's dream began Sculpture By Chuck Twardy SENTINEL ART CHITIC Helen Human y- Evans has reaped benefits from Petzold's Crisis Council. Now she is a volunteer. itself in DeLand show WW! redefines doubles as make little William Schaaf created DELAND Sculpture is dead. That's a little extreme, of course.

Sculpture lives, but its significance as a category of art is in doubt. One point that clearly resonates from the DeLand Museum of Art's first National Sculpture Invitational is that sculpture is less an art form than one of the many "strategies" that contemporary artists pursue to ponder, provoke or proselytize. In an era when photographs are staged like paint Hill ings and painting drawing, categories difference. 4 the bronze 'Tantra bright red planes, "Akron." To one degree or another, the spirit of these pieces derives from the ways they occupy or carve space a traditional issue in sculpture. The fourth-place award went to James G.

Buonac-corsi for "Lift Me UpPut Me Down," a bulky steel box of ropes and pulleys that apparently is meant to spin on armature-mounted axles. It's hard to tell if this is a complete found object or an assemblage of found objects, but it nets as sculpture by' having been excised from whatever context may have defined it. Form, space and (potential) movement define it now. Another sculptural concern, is its service as a monument, and several pieces here reinterpret this I Please see SCULPTURE, E- Take, for instance, the piece to which art critic Donald B. Kuspit awarded the top prize, "Hatchway: Flat as Flat," by University of Central Florida art professor Johann Eyfells.

The 8-foot-by-8-foot wall relief is akin to a painting in aluminum. It suggests a dank cave wall whose vertical ridges have formed by mineral secretion over thousands of years. No question' it's a sculpture, by virtue of medium and dimensionality, but the reference to flatness in its title Implies category confusion. You can imagine a painter slathering on dense layers and arriving at a similarly textured composition. There's plenty of strong, definitively sculptural work here, ranging from William Schaaf sensuously bulbous bronze, "Tantra Gurl," to Dennis Peacock's sleek slice of steel and bronze, "Spliced (sailing) Device," to Lyman Kipp's geinetric arrangement of Top prize was wall relief by art awardad to 'Hatchway: Flat as a professor Johsfin Eyfells.

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