  
Meet Ina Dorman, Clark Lamping, and Jim Perdue — three UNLV alumni who said they wanted to make a difference in the lives of others. And they weren't kidding.
Some people talk the talk. Some people walk the walk.
He doubles as a firefighter and as an emergency medical technician assigned to one of the department's medical rescue units. Both duties have enabled him to rescue people in life-threatening situations. "I brought a guy back to life after he had a heart attack," he says, recalling one incident in which he used a defibrillator to get the patient's heart started again. "It's always a really good feeling when you can do something like that. It makes your day, obviously." On another occasion Lamping, in full firefighting gear, climbed seven floors to rescue an elderly woman who was unable to use the stairs to get to safety. "We heard there was a person trapped in the 14-story building, so we went up the stairs, carrying oxygen, just in case," he recalls. "I picked her up and carried her to safety. She was very frightened and told me she didn't want to die. I said we weren't going to let that happen. She had inhaled a bit of smoke, so when we got down we gave her a little bit of oxygen." In a less dramatic albeit heart-warming way he also made the day for a local family when he rescued their cat from a fire and gave it mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. While Lamping, a Las Vegas native, says he feels ideally suited to his job, he didn't always plan to be a firefighter. When he graduated from UNLV in 1995 with a bachelor's degree in psychology, he decided to travel. "I left the country to find myself and travel all the way around the world," he says. "I found I love to travel and meet new people. The world is a much bigger place than I thought it was." When he returned from his journey, he seriously considered moving abroad. He took a number of odd jobs to make enough money to pursue his plans. "I thought my life's calling was to be a scuba diver in the Caribbean. Then I saw that the Clark County Fire Department was hiring, and I applied. I felt that it was something I really wanted to do; I didn't want a job where I had to put on a tie to go to work. But there were 2,000 people applying for just 100 jobs. I didn't think I had a realistic chance, so I went ahead with the scuba diving plans. "Just two months before I was going to leave for the Caribbean, I was notified by the fire department that I had done well on all the exams and was on the hiring list," he says. He got the job in 1998. Since that time, Lamping has found he enjoys the variety of experiences the job offers. "One of the things I love is that no two days are the same; no two calls are the same," he says. "One day you can have fun, and the next day can be absolutely heart-wrenching. When I put on that uniform in the morning, I never know what is going to happen — it keeps it really fresh." At Fire Station No. 18 at Flamingo and Paradise roads, described by Firehouse magazine as the busiest fire station in North America, Lamping's day begins at about 7 a.m. with a check of the equipment. Other station duties depend on rank. "I have very little seniority, so my job is to mop floors," he says with a smile. The fire-fighters spend their days training, doing business inspections, going to schools for fire drills, and otherwise honing their skills. They are on shift 24 hours at a time and work one day on and one day off for 10 days; they then have several days off. The UNLV grad thrives on the activity. "I think I'd go crazy if I was at one of the stations on the outskirts where I didn't get as many calls," he says. "I love being in the heart of the action. I can't stand sitting around, waiting for things to happen." That inability to sit around — combined with his drive to help people — prompts Lamping to spend some of his spare time working for the Burn Foundation, which was established by the five fire departments in the Las Vegas valley to help those who become homeless because of a fire. "I'm very proud of our work," he says. "We provide funds, furniture, and other things a family needs to get re-established. We also pay for funerals, if necessary." Despite the sometimes heart-rending nature of his work, Lamping says he has no regrets about passing up the beaches and waters of the Caribbean for his current job. "I would say this is the perfect career match for me," he says, adding that the excitement — combined with the opportunity to help people — has made his job among the most satisfying he can imagine.
The year was 1988, and the Clark County School District had decided something needed to be done to get homeless children to school. Dorman was assigned the job of developing a program to combat the problem, which had been brought into focus by federal legislation — the Homeless Assistance Act — requiring school districts to take action. The first obstacle Dorman discovered was that enrollment in school was impossible for homeless children at the time because the school district required a permanent home address in order for a child to be officially admitted. Hence, one of Dorman's first chores was to create an avenue through which homeless children could enroll even though they didn't have a permanent address. After overcoming that obstacle, Dorman went on to solve many other problems in the next 10 years as she spent her days supervising the school district's program for homeless children. "It meant going anywhere a homeless family might be staying," she recalls. "I assisted them with transportation to school, getting the appropriate paperwork completed, and helping the parents get welfare and social services. Once the children were enrolled, I contacted people who could help them succeed." Though the challenge she faced in trying to locate and help all the homeless children in the county was huge, she says she was able to avoid becoming overwhelmed by approaching the problem one student at a time. "I tried to deal one-on-one with the student, the school staff, and the family," she says. She started with no budget; she enlisted the aid of a Sunday school class to get school supplies and clothing for the children. Dorman recalls one particular student living in a campground at Lake Mead. He had to walk to the highway each day to catch the school bus. "One day the nurse at a Boulder City elementary school called me to report the youth was coming to school so dirty that the other students were ostracizing him," she says. "He was living in the elements. His parents were doing the best they could, but they had no access to laundry facilities, and there was no real way for him to get clean." Dorman asked the nurse whether the school had a shower. It did. She got the student some extra clothing and made laundry arrangements with a nearby middle school. "The young man would go to school, take a shower, get dressed, and take his dirty clothes to the middle school to be laundered," Dorman says, adding that the plan worked well. "The mother was so grateful that her son was then accepted by the other students." While working on the homeless children program, Dorman enrolled at UNLV to complete the degree she had begun pursuing when she lived in Denver 17 years ago. Since helping people was part of her job — and she certainly enjoyed it — she decided to major in social work. In 1993 she earned her bachelor's degree from UNLV and went on to obtain her master's degree in social work from the university in 1995. She is currently pursuing a doctorate in organizational leadership. Dorman continued supervising the district's program for homeless children until 1998; during her decade in charge of the program, she saw its numbers grow. In the first year, 50 children were identified. By the time she left the project, she and the agencies involved had located more than a thousand. She estimates that there may now be as many as 2,000 homeless children in the school district. Since 1998, Dorman has supervised a different important project — increasing the number of social workers in Clark County schools. She coordinates and supervises 20 UNLV social work student interns — both graduate and undergraduate — in the schools. Social workers are rare birds in the state's schools, she says. There are only 11 in Nevada, eight of them in Las Vegas; seven of those are concentrated in special education. Dorman believes there is a broader and important place in schools for the social worker. "Our role is different from the counselor or the psychologist," she says. "We link the family to services outside of the school that can provide assistance to them. We do a lot of networking. The schools are becoming more comfortable with having social workers than they used to be," she notes of her pioneering work, adding that the social workers have helped increase awareness in the schools of the kinds of non-academic problems that can interfere with learning, such as the high drop-out, teen pregnancy, and teen drug addiction rates. For example, one of her current interns accompanied a pregnant teen to the delivery room and held her hand while her baby was born; she then followed up and got the young mother connected with the appropriate social services, mentored her, and got her back into school where she is now doing well. Other interns have helped students discover that college is a realistic option for them. Dorman's commitment and dedication have earned her several awards: the Andre Agassi "Kind Heart Award" in 1996; the National Association of Social Workers Award in 1999; School Social Worker of the Year for Nevada and Practitioner of the Year for the UNLV School of Social Work in 2000; and the Clark County School District's Excellence in Education Award. But she doesn't do it for the awards. "My experience in social work is probably the most rewarding thing that has ever happened to me," she says. "It has given me an appreciation of life."
"I wanted to go into a field where I could have some kind of impact, where I could try to influence the system," he says of his decision to become a criminal justice major and to pursue a career in law enforcement. After graduation, Perdue took a job with the Nevada parole and probation department. Three years later he moved to the federal parole and probation office where he is now a senior probation officer with a caseload of 55 offenders. Those offenders have been convicted of a wide range of federal offenses from murder to bank robbery to driving under the influence in a national park. It is Perdue's job to follow the progress of the offenders assigned to him, to guide their efforts at leading crime-free lives, and, in some cases, to turn them in for violating the terms of their parole or probation. While Perdue acknowledges that he must face the unpleasant task of recommending that some offenders be incarcerated, he is gratified that he has been able to help keep many others out of jail. His work to develop several innovative ways of improving certain aspects of the probation and parole system has helped in that effort. For instance, while working for the federal government, Perdue has created a program that helps keep offenders out of jail by assigning them to community service. The distinguishing feature of Perdue's program is that the offenders are supervised by the parole and probation officers. "Previously, offenders had been supervised by independent contractors hired by the government," Perdue says. "Supervising the program ourselves gives us more control over what the offenders are doing in the community and over which community-service projects are selected. Also, we have first-hand knowledge that we can report back to the judges, which makes them more satisfied with the program." He adds that the support of the federal judges has been critical to the success of the program. He has also encouraged greater use of laptop computers by parole and probation officers; that has allowed them to spend more time in the field instead of at their desks. "That gets us more in touch with the community," he says, adding that being out in the field helps the officers identify more appropriate community-service projects, such as the gardening done at the Helen J. Stewart School for special children or collecting trash at Sunset or Lorenzi parks. Perdue's next goal is to establish a network through which nonprofit agencies in need of community service workers can gain better access to the program. Perdue finds it gratifying that his program helps both agencies within the community and the offenders. "Some people are thankful for the break of being able to perform community service rather than going to jail or prison," he says. But Perdue has had to take a tougher approach with certain offenders, and that often means jail time for them. "It's difficult but necessary when you investigate an offender who is not ready to change — when you catch him in an illegal act — and have to take him out of the community," Perdue says. "But I get calls from offenders who thank me later for being firm, for getting them off drugs and off the streets, and changing their lives." Perdue's long hours and thoroughness as a probation officer have resulted in his receiving several awards. In 1999 he went to Washington, D.C., to receive the U.S. Attorney General's National Crime Victims Fund Award directly from then-Attorney General Janet Reno. He has also received three federal special service awards for his work "above and beyond the normal call of duty" in the Nevada district. The job, which requires him to be on call 24 hours a day, is demanding, but Perdue, who received his master's degree in criminal justice in May, says he loves it. "The most rewarding thing is when you help someone succeed in turning his life around. That's what makes my job worth doing." |
