from The Oregonian, by Angie Chuang
The last time Jacquelyn Staudenmaier saw her older sister, Joyce, a couple of weeks ago, they had lunch at Carl's Jr. Joyce insisted on paying because Jacquelyn had just bought a house. Joyce brought a housewarming present: a box containing hand lotion, a candle, cigarettes and a lottery ticket.
That day was like many Jacquelyn had spent with Joyce, who had battled schizophrenia for nearly 30 years.
"She had called me and asked if we could 'go out to lunch and do something fun,' " Jacquelyn, 44, recalled Saturday night at her Beaverton home. "At first, she was upbeat. She sounded awesome. Then, it was click, the next minute she had me wondering what I did to upset her.
"She said, 'I just want to go home and vegetate.' "
The next time Jacquelyn heard about her sister was on the 12 o'clock news Friday, after a Clackamas County sheriff's sergeant had shot and killed her. The sheriff's office said Staudenmaier, 49, lunged at him and another person with a knife. The shooting, which took place at the apartment complex where Joyce lived just north of Clackamas Town Center, is under investigation.
The sheriff's office says it will release the name of the sergeant today. The sergeant, whom sheriff's officials described as a well-respected supervisor who has been with the department for years, was placed on paid administrative leave pending the investigation.
For the past two days, Jacquelyn and her older sister, Janice Burdick, 57, who traveled from Santa Cruz, Calif., after she heard the news, have been replaying Joyce's tumultuous life in their heads. They remember her sharp intellect, her unfailing ability to send every family member a birthday card, her beautiful singing voice -- and her longtime battle with the voices inside her head.
Schizophrenia is a misunderstood illness, they say, and their sister was a misunderstood woman, right up until the end of her life.
"She was fighting demons. She did not see the world as we see it," Jacquelyn said. "It frustrated her all the time. She knew she couldn't be normal, but she wanted to be. She was very thoughtful and caring."
The Staudenmaier sisters grew up in Lake Oswego and attended Catholic schools. Their father worked for the former White Stag clothing company, and their mother was an accountant. The sisters' names all started with "J": Janice, Joyce, Joanne and Jacquelyn.
Joyce graduated from Lakeridge High School in the early '70s and went to a performing arts college in San Diego. She was an accomplished singer and dancer who had dreams of performing onstage, Jacquelyn said.
Joyce threw herself into her theater studies, working a job on the side to support herself. When she was about 21, she collapsed at work one day. Her parents went to pick her up and take her back to Lake Oswego.
That's when Joyce's battle with schizophrenia officially began. She was under psychiatric care from her mid-20s and was admitted to mental hospitals a couple of times. She never talked about it with Janice or Jacquelyn, but they knew.
On the car ride back from San Diego, Jacquelyn, who was 16 at the time, says she could talk to her sister as she always did, but she knew Joyce had changed.
"She was having conversations with herself," Jacquelyn said. "When it's just beginning, you say to yourself, 'That's interesting,' but you don't analyze what it is. Maybe you're in denial."
Later Joanne Whalen, their sister, was diagnosed with schizophrenia. She is married and lives in upstate New York.
Joyce continued trying to pursue her passion, enrolling in dance classes at Portland Community College. She injured her knee, which ended that dream. She enrolled in nursing school.
But then the illness tightened its grip, and Joyce could never hold a steady job again. Her mother, Joan, took care of her, visiting every day and supporting her. Joyce often said her mom was her best friend, Jacquelyn said.
When Joyce died, she was living at Chez Ami Apartments, a 40-unit housing complex for people with mental illnesses.
Joan died 11 years ago, and Joyce did not seem to grieve, Jacquelyn said. "She internalized everything."
The rest of her life went on, much like that last lunch Jacquelyn had with her. Often, she'd be warm and affectionate, sending gifts and cards. Other times, she wouldn't return calls for weeks.
Since Friday, Janice said she and her sister have been asking themselves what they could have done to prevent Joyce's death.
They're reluctant to talk about the actions of law enforcement officials, but they say they are angry.
"I don't think it was right. A person with experience with mental illness should have dealt with it better," Janice said. "That's all I'm going to say about it."
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1 comment:
I've been searching for Joyce for a long time. I am so sad to read about her life. She was one of my best friends in grade school and HS. I never would have guessed her life would end like this. She really was a very sweet and loving woman.
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