After a devastating car accident, Adriana Kanwischer began a journey of self-discovery that includes volunteering with the Sky Hunters Birds of Prey program at the Schlitz Audubon Nature Center. She is pictured with Orion, one of five fledglings blown out of a tree nest who is now part of the education program at the nature center.

Physical or psychological trauma can turn a life inside out. Adriana Kanwischer, David Cooks and Jon Linhart are three Milwaukee-area residents who are trauma survivors. The have all looked danger in the eye and emerged with a new perspective on living.

The first thing Adriana Kanwischer of Genesee remembers after the head-on car crash in June 2007 is opening her eyes and trying to rise to her feet.

"No, you can’t stand up," said somebody on the Flight for Life crew who was trying to keep her stable. "You’re in a helicopter."

The chopper was headed for Froedtert Hospital, where Kanwischer would face nearly four hours of plastic surgery on her head, 400 stitches and an operation on a leg that required the insertion of screws to put the bone back together. Months of rehabilitative physical therapy would follow.

"When I came back home, the most difficult thing, I think, is how you look at yourself and it seems that you’re in a dream," Kanwischer remembers.

In the early stages of recovery, she says, she was simply grateful to be alive. But when she returned to work at GE Healthcare, she found that she was nervous behind the wheel, and she could not go near the spot where the accident had occurred. Soon, all she wanted to do was stay home.

"I had lots of friends and family support, but I just couldn’t get back to myself, back to my life," she says.

Kanwischer tried to get her mind off the accident by searching the Internet for information on wildlife, a topic she had always found fascinating. The first Web site she landed on was hosted by Siyafunda, a South African conservation organization seeking volunteers to support wildlife research efforts.

After an exchange of e-mails, Kanwischer somehow felt compelled to make a reservation at Siyafunda’s camp in the African bush. Her husband encouraged her to make the journey.

Weeks before she was scheduled to leave, Kanwischer had her doubts about taking the trip on her own. She was not sure she would be safe, she worried that she was being selfish, that the trip was a frivolous expense.

But once her plane took off from Chicago, Kanwischer says, the doubts faded. A native of Brazil, Kanwischer had traveled the world, and something always seemed to go awry. But her flight to South Africa went "perfectly." She took it as a sign that everything was going to be just fine.

David Cooks lost the use of his legs when he was a student at Marquette University High School. He hasn’t let that stop him from accomplishing his professional and personal goals, including coaching basketball. He has been coach at his alma mater since 1999. The Hilltoppers were the Greater Metro Conference champions last season.

The staff at Siyafunda, she says, "treat you like you are home, like they’ve known you for your whole life."

Kanwischer and about a dozen other volunteers from around the world were assigned daily tasks throughout their two-week stay, including keeping count of wildlife species spotted on their daily ventures into the bush.

The cane she brought along to aid in walking got little use. Kanwischer says she didn’t want to be perceived as weak. As she hiked around the game preserve with the volunteer patrols, she grew stronger every day.

She came face-to-face with her fears the first time a lion began striding up to the Jeep in which she was riding. There were a few anxious minutes before she realized that the lion was just curious.

"But at that moment, I realized you’re going to die when you’re supposed to die," she says. "You can be right in front of a lion, but if it’s not your time, the lion’s not going to be hungry."

The trip helped Kanwischer build her physical strength and when she returned home, she found the energy to exercise, helping her own recovery.

Back in Genesee, Kanwischer wanted to continue to work with wildlife as a volunteer. The work brings her joy and that, she says, is the key to leaving fear in the dust.

She looked for a volunteer opportunity that would offer a chance to learn about animals, encourage her to do physical work and make a genuine contribution to the cause of conservation. Today, Kanwischer spends her Sundays working with raptors as a volunteer at the Schlitz Audubon Nature Center in Bayside.

"You don’t have take a South African trip to turn your life upside down," she says, "but find something you really enjoy in your life. You have to look for happiness, then you can share the happiness with your family."

Jon Linhardt served in the United States Marines in one of the bloodiest battles of the war in Iraq in which he saw many of his fellow Marines die. After suffering post-traumatic stress disorder he refocused his priorities and now owns his own company, a franchised driving instruction business.

David Cooks was just 15 on that morning in October 1979 — the morning he woke up with some back pain and tingling in his legs. Tryouts for the Marquette University High School basketball team were just two days away and Cooks wanted to make that team. He did not realize, at first, that a spinal aneurysm was taking away his ability to walk.

Cooks looks at that moment, and every moment since, as an opportunity to find out what he has inside, what strength can be mustered in times of adversity. "My reaction, quite honestly, was and continues to be that this too shall pass and let’s get back to school and do what I was doing," he recalls. "It was never a question in my mind in regards to ‘Why me?’ I trusted in God.

"Just as quick as I lost the use of my legs — just that quick — I could lose anything," he says. "So in the meantime, I’ve got to live."

Cooks says the doctors and psychiatrists who attended to him when he first became paralyzed warned him about all the dreams he would have to set aside. He didn’t believe them.

So when he graduated from Marquette High School, Cooks set some lofty goals for himself. He wanted to be a banker, to earn an MBA from a top tier university, to have a career in high finance, to work in college administration. And to coach basketball. Cooks realized all of those ambitions by the time he celebrated his 36th birthday.

"If you have breath in your lungs, then you can achieve something," Cooks says. "I know this sounds hard, but there is no excuse for not pursuing something meaningful for your life. And that’s difficult for everyone, those who have challenges and those who don’t."

Today, Cooks is chairman of the Economics Department and director of diversity at his high school alma mater. He is also head coach of the Marquette Hilltoppers varsity basketball team.

"I love the game, but there’s more to life than this game," he says.

"I love the competition, I love to see young men develop and achieve and go beyond what they think they could. I also like to see that in the classroom, to see guys grasp concepts and see the light bulb come on. There’s so much satisfaction you get from that."

Now, at 45, Cooks sees his life as coming full circle. With his wife, MariPat, he is looking ahead to a future that will likely include more opportunities to speak to young people about rising above adversity. "I’ve had frustrations and moments when I’ve wanted to give up, but at the end of the day, I’m not a quitter," Cooks says. "Hope drives you from despair to achievement. You have to believe against all odds, you have to hope when there’s no hope, because if you don’t, you’ll be overcome by your circumstance."

When he was growing up, Jon Linhart says, he dreamed about becoming a United States Marine: "My idea of a Marine was, ‘First to know, last to go.’ I wanted to know what it means to have that brotherhood and that experience."

A month after graduating from Nicolet High School in 2003, Linhart was training in a California boot camp. He volunteered for the infantry and was assigned to the First Battalion, Third Marines, stationed in Hawaii, and attached to the 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit headed for Iraq.

The unit, Linhart says, was "one of the lead elements" in the Second Battle of Fallujah, also known as "Operation Phantom Fury." The military calls the assault on the Iraqi insurgent stronghold one of the bloodiest urban battles since the battle for Hue, Vietnam, in 1968, Linhart notes.

"It was one of the few times in the Iraq campaign when they cut all the rules of engagement and it was kind of a free-for-all."

Linhart saw some of his best friends, Marines who "were like brothers to me," die in combat.

One in every four Marines in the battalion was wounded, Linhart says, and of those, about half were wounded a second time. Linhart, who stands 6 feet, 6 inches tall, walked out without a scratch.

Linhart struggled to understand why he was spared. When he returned to Hawaii, he says, he "drank a lot, got in a lot of fights. I didn’t care about anyone." His squad leaders took notice and referred Linhart for medical treatment. Diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, he was granted an honorable medical discharge.

Back home in Fox Point, Linhart continued treatment at the Zablocki VA Medical Center.

A trip to Gurnee, Ill., to visit the grave of one of his buddies became a turning point. He spoke to his friend’s family and tried to sort out his emotions. "I finally just said, something’s got to change, something’s got to click here. I can’t keep going like this," he recalls.

Linhart says he came to a stark realization: "I was literally given the opportunity of a lifetime by my friends (those who died.) Instead of hating myself, I had to try to do something positive for myself — not only for myself, but for them."

He decided to pursue a business career. While selling cars at a Glendale dealership, Linhart met the president of Just Drive, a franchised driving instruction business. He went to work as the president’s operations manager until the sagging economy forced his boss to lay him off.

But Linhart had saved up some money, borrowed some more from friends, and bought his own Just Drive franchise. Now, at 24, he has just opened his third location, employs nine people, and estimates he will serve 600 driving students in 2010.

He says he enjoys the opportunity to work with students and "teach them through experiences I’ve had." As the business grows, Linhart hopes to do some of the things he and his Marine buddies talked about doing someday, like traveling. And he would like to share his success by helping other veterans. "I’m grateful for every breath I take. (Just Drive) keeps me busy, gives me something to pour my energy into, and my passion," Linhart says. "It makes me think that some good is coming out of me being there." M