Local Color

Donna Page

Donna Page may have lost her hands and feet, but she never lost her way.

In 2000, at 64 years old, Donna was in the best shape of her life, competing in triathlons, skiing, riding her bike and ballroom dancing. Then she got a Strep A infection that became sepsis. “I was dancing at the Riverhorse on Valentine’s Day. Six days later, I was in the hospital with a 106.5-degree fever and had gone from 115 to 250 pounds because of fluid. The doctors called my family and told them I was going to die.”

Donna was put into a forced coma, where she remained for two months. “It’s the only way to be sick,” she jokes, “Because I remember absolutely nothing.” She had 456 blood transfusions and almost died several times, including when her lungs were punctured by a feeding tube. “I’m a controlling person,” says Donna. “We don’t go easy. The nurses joked afterwards that they just couldn’t kill me!”

All of Donna’s organs shut down, so there was no circulation to her extremities. As a result, most of her fingers and both legs (below the knee) had to be amputated. “But I can hold a wine glass, drive, ride my bike and operate a computer. I can’t bowl. But
I never did, so what does it matter?”

Of her fate, Donna says, “I got frustrated, but I was never depressed. I woke up and realized I had no hands and no feet and that I had so much to do. My cup is overflowing. I had great doctors, great therapists and incredible support from Park City. I’m so grateful. Mountain Vineyard Church organized prayer circles and sent letters, and every time the hospital staff thought I was going to die, they’d let people come to visit and pray for me. I am now a great believer in the power of prayer. I walked out of the hospital after four months on phony legs. How lucky am I?”

Since 2000, Donna has carried the Olympic torch down Main Street during the 2002 Winter Games with her husband Dick; celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary with their four children and 14 grandchildren on an Alaskan cruise; completed four 5K walks and won her category, because, “There are no other old ladies with no legs in the races!” and learned how to surf. “We had a family reunion at our place in Hawaii, and 12 of my grandchildren were there. They carried me out and got me on the tandem board on my knees. I went surfing with all of the kids.” Her future goal? “To learn to run on my new legs. Right now I’m bouncing up and down a bit like Tigger.” The glass half full: “Before the amputations, I was 5’2”. Now I’m 5’6”. I’ll never have to hem pants again!”

Guiding Principles: “You get up in the morning and count your blessings, and how can you not have a good day after that? I think that no matter what goes on in your life, the only person you can hurt by being miserable is yourself. Stay positive.”

Robin Svoboda

Talk about the host with the most. For 30 years, Robin Svoboda has been filling our stomachs and delighting our souls with his warm hospitality, Buddha-like smile and often, a funky tie.

“I’m kind of a regular guy. I came here with skiing in mind and just never left.” The Michigan beach-town native first visited Utah in 1978, staying with friends in Heber City. “The high school rodeo days were going on, and every morning I’d wake to the announcer saying, ‘Good Morning, cowboys and cowgirls. Welcome to high school rodeo days!’ That was a really neat introduction to the area. And 30 years later, I swear the same guy is still doing it!”

Robin’s first job in town was at the Car 19 Restaurant as a doorman. He went on to bartend or wait tables at other town landmarks such as The Yarrow, Grub Steak and now Chez Betty, where he’s taken care of guests for 14 years. (If you recognize Robin but are missing the long braid that used to hang down his back, know that he kindly donated it to “Locks of Love.”)

Why does he love the restaurant business? “I call myself a hospitality engineer,” laughs Robin. “I love the fact that every night — and every table — is different. I kind of treat the restaurant like it is my own home, and we’re having a party, and I’m going to take care of you in any way I can.”
Of working at Chez Betty in particular, he says, “It’s really not a job. It’s a life adventure. I see life going on here. People start to bring their kids in at 10 years old to celebrate a birthday, and suddenly they’re 22 years old, back from college in New York City. I’ve shared pictures of my children since they were born with people who come back 10, 12, 14 years in a row. Sharing life with people over the years is really an amazing thing.”
Robin lives in Midway with his wife Kim and daughters Madison (10) and Gabrielle (5).

“I used to center my life around recreation — ski and golf 100 days a year — now my family is the center of my universe.” He calls his girls every night from the restaurant to “tuck them in.”

And the tie collection? “I’ve just always liked ties that say ‘Here I am!’ In the winter, I wear a vest. I have a tie with a shooting star on top, and when people say ‘That’s interesting,’ I pull out the rest of it and show them that it’s a Winnie the Pooh tie. They always get a kick out of that.”

Guiding Principles: “Just be happy in whatever you do. Treat people with respect and dignity like you would want to be treated. Have fun every day, because you don’t know what tomorrow will bring. And smile, because it makes people think you’re up to something.”

Andrea Hage

The intriguing scarves that Andrea Hage creates could stand as metaphors for her life — random bits of color and texture, hand selected with love, are woven instinctively into a beautiful existence. “I needed something to do with my hands,” explains Andrea. (Andrea’s beloved husband of 23 years, Per Hage, died three years ago of leukemia.) “Making the scarves was like a meditation.” With braids and tassels, silk ribbons from Paris, Indonesia and Tibet, or grape and banana yarn from Greece, Andrea knits together grief, memories, appreciation and hope. She sells the scarves by word of mouth to friends (a portion of the proceeds benefit a women’s shelter in Nepal), or if you’re lucky, she’ll place one around your shoulders and send you on your way. You will feel blessed.

Creating is nothing new to Andrea. Now retired, she was an art teacher at Park City High School, Treasure Mountain Middle School and Westminster College for nearly 20 years. “I had to be an artist. I had to. Art is like breathing. It’s a way of relating to people. It’s a way of feeling more alive. It was important for me as a teacher to surround kids with art. When they create something, they have confidence in themselves. I hope they’ll continue that on their own in some way. I do miss the kids. I see them everywhere. Even though now they’re 6’2” with beards and mustaches, I always recognize them because I look into their eyes and see their hearts and say, ‘Oh! It’s little Tommy so-and-so!’”

Other recent endeavors for Andrea include traveling (Taipei, Israel and Greece, where the day after lighting a candle for love in a church, she met a wonderful man named Allessandro); adopting an 18-year-old Tibetan monk to whom she sent a hackey sack because “What do you get a Tibetan monk?”; and employing her dog Jackson as a cancer therapy dog. “Jackson was by Per’s side all through his chemotherapy and with him his last day in the hospital. Now I bring Jackson to the chemo ward sometimes to see other patients. He’s such a clown. People warm up to dogs, and they smile even when they don’t feel like smiling. He just cheers people up. He’s got a way with people and a way with healing.”

Andrea’s guiding principle? “Life is so short. Be with someone you love and don’t miss a beat. There are no guarantees. Do what you can do — make a difference with people you meet, really have fun and live!”