An ordained Baptist chaplain and army captain, Roger Benimoff spent two tours of duty in Iraq and months between deployments counseling soldiers in the U.S. During his career, he provided spiritual guidance to American soldiers through crises of faith, bereavement, and trauma until he himself broke down. While training and working as a chaplain at Walter Reed during the height of its crisis, Benimoff was diagnosed with chronic PTSD and spent months of treatment at some of the facilities where he trained as a caretaker. NEWSWEEK's Eve Conant has tracked Benimoff's experiences over the years, starting with his time at Walter Reed, and recently in a book about his experiences, Faith Under Fire. Benimoff retired from the army earlier this year. He spoke with Conant from Dallas, where he is a hospital chaplain, about what might have happened in Ft. Hood, how the military families will cope with tragedy on the homefront, and why the army pushed him so far he had to leave.

Is "contact" or "secondary" PTSD a genuine problem?

Oh yes, definitely. I didn't have much time to counsel before I was deployed—I had only three weeks active duty before going over—but I would debrief my soldiers in Iraq all the time about events I was not present at. I remember when Eagle Troop had lost a soldier to a sniper and I did the CISD [Critical Incident Stress Debriefing]. I still have those images in my head. Or when one of Fox Troop's tanks went over a land mine. The soldiers told me about how the IED blew through their tank, how the driver's body was completely destroyed, how it was like spaghetti, and they were desperately trying to pull him out of the driver's seat while their command told them to leave the scene. They didn't leave him behind. But the tension of that, and their descriptions of that moment stay with me. When Eagle Troop lost a sergeant to an RPG they told me about running into the hospital, seeing Iraq soldiers vomiting on the stairs after what they had just seen—walls covered in blood, brain matter on the floor. These images don't go away and I wasn't even there that day.

It's hard to draw too many conclusions right now, but we do know this: Thursday night, authorities shot and then apprehended the lone suspect, Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan. A psychiatrist who was set to deploy to Iraq at the end of the month, Hasan reportedly opened fire around the Fort Hood Readiness Center, where troops are prepared for deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan. And though this scene is a most extreme and tragic outlier, it comes at a time when the stress of combat has affected so many soldiers individually that it makes it increasingly difficult for the military as a whole to deploy for wars abroad. In an abrupt news conference, Lt. Gen. Robert Cone, the top commander at Fort Hood, said in response to the shooting that authorities would "increase the security presence" on the military base. On the surface, it seemed like a logical enough plan. But it makes one wonder how much any kind of lockdown will either get at the root causes of soldier stresses or better prepare them for more battle.

The H1N1 vaccine shortage isn’t just frustrating. It’s unleashing an ethical and emotionally-charged debate about people’s shot-worthiness. Back in August, the CDC announced recommendations on who should be first in line for vaccination. The list: pregnant women, caregivers for babies under 6 months, health-care workers, anybody 6 months to 25 years old, and people with health conditions like asthma and diabetes. But we all know that vaccine distribution hasn’t gone perfectly—lines have been long, supplies have run out, and, yes, some Americans have gotten the shot when they shouldn’t have.

All of this blew up into a vitriolic exchange on a local moms bulletin board in Washington, D.C., after a mother said she’d gotten vaccinated at a Virginia clinic even though she didn’t qualify. And she urged other moms to do the same to protect their kids. Hello swine-flu mommy wars. One woman called her selfish. (And there were choicer words, too.) Another warned there would be a “day of reckoning” for people like her. And this: “To the people who have gotten the H1N1 vaccine and are not in the CDC priority groups—WHAT YOU DID IS DISGUSTING. YOU ARE DISGUSTING.”

The calmer posts said she wasn’t at fault: at least some health-care workers at the clinic, they reported, were encouraging people to get the vaccine while they could—even if they weren’t in one of the priority groups. But that’s not supposed to happen, at least not until more ample supplies of vaccine are available. Moms aren’t the only ones at war. A report that Goldman Sachs and other big New York companies have received vaccine has some people up in arms, even though Goldman says it’ll provide it only to high-risk groups. And then there’s the news that Gitmo detainees will get vaccines, too. House Republican John Boehner isn’t too happy about that—and neither are a lot of other people.

Now, CDC Director Dr. Thomas Frieden is pulling out his megaphone and trying to bring some order. In a letter sent to state and local health officers and released by the CDC today, Frieden said, “It is more important than ever to focus on ensuring equitable access to the vaccine for the priority groups.” He went on to ask local health officials to review their plans immediately and “work to ensure that the maximum number of doses is delivered to those at greatest risk as rapidly as possible.”

Frieden does a good job walking the line between thanking public health officials for their hard work—they are, after all, on the receiving end of vaccine frustration—and making it clear that they need to abide by the recommendations. Now it’s up to the vaccinators to listen.

Read the entire letter after the jump.

Should health-care reform require insurers to cover chiropractors? Acupuncturists? Yoga? Spiritual healers? These are the questions raised by a recently noticed health-care amendment requiring insurers to consider covering "religious and spiritual health care."

The amendment, covered in this Los Angeles Times article, comes with backing from Senate heavyweights like Orrin Hatch, John Kerry, and the late Ted Kennedy. And while it does not mention Christian Science by name, it's been widely interpreted as a protection of the church's prayer treatments, which it encourages as an alternative to medical help. Others have understood the provision as even more far-reaching as to include any health provider acting within the scope of their license.The Freedom From Religion Foundation has criticized the amendment as an unconstitutional violation of church and state.

Even with its powerful supporters, the amendment seems unlikely to make the final bill; Pelosi already dropped it from the House version. But just the suggestion of covering religious health care highlights a difficult question for reformers: how, exactly, does prayer fit into the president's support for evidence-based medicine? Or, more broadly, is there a place for any sort of unproven, alternative medicine, religious or otherwise, in health-care reform?

By Johannah Cornblatt

Michael Goldsmith, the baseball fan who penned the NEWSWEEK My Turn column that became a game-changer for major league baseball, died this week at the age of 58.

Goldsmith suffered from and finally succumbed to amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS. Also known as Lou Gehrig's disease, the degenerative condition robbed the Hall of Famer of his life and robs 30,000 Americans at any given time of their ability to walk, speak, and eventually breathe. It's a rare disease—striking two out of 10,000—but a brutal one, agonizing for those who suffer from the disease and those who love them.

Gehrig is the most famous face of ALS, but it was Goldsmith who suggested, in a NEWSWEEK My Turn column that ran on Nov. 1, 2008, that baseball join the fight in a more public and organized way:

Major League Baseball has never taken comprehensive action against ALS. Defeating ALS will require the same type of determination, dedication and drive that Gehrig and Cal Ripken demonstrated when they set superhuman records for consecutive games played. With this in mind, why not make July 4, 2009, ALS-Lou Gehrig Day? Dedicate this grim anniversary to funding research for a cure; every major- and minor-league stadium might project the video of Gehrig's farewell, and teams, players and fans could contribute to this cause.

The column soon caught the attention of  The New York Times and MLB Commissioner Bud Selig, and the plan Goldsmith envisioned was put into action. On July 4  this season, the 70th anniversary of  Lou Gehrig's "Luckiest Man" speech, players wore commemorative patches. ALS groups sold awareness buttons, and ballparks played video of Gehrig's noble farewell on the JumboTrons. Goldsmith was honored at Yankee Stadium that day, throwing out the ceremonial first pitch. His family later recalled how much he savored that experience—despite his being an Orioles fan.

Selig issued a statement about Goldsmith's passing, saying he was "deeply saddened" and offering his condolences. Game 5 of the World Series, played last night in Philadelphia, was dedicated to Goldsmith's memory.  Throughout the game, fans were encouraged to donate to ALS charities by visiting the MLB blog 4ALS Awareness. According to the George Vecsey, who wrote about Goldsmith's NEWSWEEK column in the Times, "Commissioner Bud Selig said Goldsmith believed in the power of one person to make an impact, and he promised that Goldsmith’s aspirations would continue to be honored."

It would be a tribute to both Gehrig and Goldsmith and a testament to the enduring power of sports, teamwork, and camaraderie if baseball took that "comprehensive action" Goldsmith suggested. It's worth noting that the Philadelphia Phillies, who are currently trying to battle their way out of a 3-2 deficit against the Yankees in the World Series, have raised more than $11 million in the past 25 years through their charity work with The Greater Philadelphia ALS Society. A baseball-wide campaign to actively fight ALS and support those who suffer from it would go a long way to aid the cause and to bring back some lost dignity to America's pastime.

Aside from being a baseball fan, Goldsmith was the Woodruff J. Deem professor of law at Brigham Young, and a husband, father, son, and brother. We at NEWSWEEK offer his friends and family our deepest sympathies.

As part of NEWSWEEK's Good Hair Week, senior writer Allison Samuels discussed Zahara Jolie-Pitt and the politics of natural hair and interracial adoptions. Her article, which implored the Jolie-Pitt parents to pay more attention to Zahara's hair, and its follow-up were much discussed at NEWSWEEK and on the Internet. We invited three bloggers to offer their own opinion on the topic. -KD

I once wrote about my natural hair:

My hair is nappy. It is coarse and thick. It grows in pencil-size spirals and tiny crinkles. My hair grows out, not down. It springs from my head like a corona. My hair is like wool. You can't run your fingers through it, nor a comb. It is impenetrable. My hair is rebellious. It resists being smoothed into a neat bun or ponytail. It puffs. Strands escape; they won't be tamed. My hair is nappy. And I love it.

I may love my hair. But common wisdom, even among people with hair just like mine, is that my hair isn't "good," at least as it naturally grows from my head. It needs to be tamed, preferably by straightening, but at the very least, especially in young children, hair like mine should be restrained somehow--in plaits or cornrows or something that hides its unruly nature. It should be shiny. You should be able to run a comb through it. All this in defiance of the natural properties of most black hair.

I suspect NEWSWEEK writer Allison Samuels follows this common wisdom.

Two weeks ago she sparked furor around the Net with an article taking Angelina Jolie to task for her daughter Zahara's allegedly uncared-for tresses. In the face of considerable backlash, Samuels didn't back down. In a NEWSWEEK online exclusive this week, Samuels answers her critics.

There is a lot I could challenge in Samuels's articles, but I will confine this post to one point: Samuels seems to embrace the notion, a gift of society's Eurocentric beauty standards, that tamed hair = healthy hair, and unfettered black hair = hot mess. What's worse, she wants little Zahara to learn to embrace this thinking, too--a terrible lesson for a girl with tresses that naturally feature fuzzy parts and curls that spring akimbo.

In a society with Eurocentric beauty standards, it is natural that hair common to people of European ancestry would be the marker for beauty, professionalism, and good grooming. And it is natural, though I think not good for us, that those of minority cultures have absorbed the standards of the dominant culture and adopted beauty rituals that support those standards.

This is why so many of us have memories of sitting at our mother's or grandmothers' knees, holding our ears, and listening to sizzling grease, as our hair was tamed into a straight, shiny, combable mass and woven into multiple neat plaits. Most of us remember this bonding time fondly. But, in reality, straight, shiny, combable, and neat are NOT markers of whether black hair is cared for or not. That so many of us, including Samuels, think these descriptors are related to hair health shows how much we have absorbed the idea that hair common to people of European ancestry is the norm by which all other hair must be judged. As I type this, my ginormous twist-out is shiny, but not straight, combable, or neat, And, I promise you, my hair is very well cared for.

Yes, I know that braiding has deep roots in African culture and is an ingrained part of black American culture. My beef isn't with plaiting; my beef is with the fear of the nap--the idea that unrestrained black hair, apart from other hair, is unacceptable. To many of us with natural hair, Zahara seems to be wearing a wash-and-go. But we are taught that black women can't simply wash their hair and go. Our hair has to be "fixed," made presentable. I think this hair hatred was born and nurtured right here in Western culture where the yardstick by which we judge our hair's beauty, health, and rituals of care is invariably a white one.

There is no way of knowing whether Zahara's hair is conditioned by scanning paparazzi shots. You can't assess its softness. You can't check for split ends. You can't see breakage. What Samuels is reacting to, I think, is the fact that Zahara's hair is "wild" and unrestrained. And black women and girls are taught that this isn't okay. It isn't pretty. It isn't proper. It isn't professional. It isn't ladylike.

I'll say this--I agree with Samuels that most little, black girls would NOT be comfortable wearing their natural hair loose as Zahara does. That is, in great part, because of the unrelenting messages they get, within and without our black culture, that their hair is inherently wrong. Must Zahara adopt these feelings of self-hatred to earn her black card? I like to think, as a black woman who has wrestled and come to terms with her own hair issues, my job is to help free the girls in my life from damaging self-hatred, not encourage it as a litmus test for fitting in.

My hair is nappy. It is soft and cottony, a mass of varying textures. My hair is fun to play with. I like to pull at the spiral curls and feel them snap back into place. My hair defies the laws of gravity. It reaches energetically toward the sky. My hair is unique. In a fashion culture that genuflects to relaxed, flat-ironed tresses and stick-straight weaves, my fluffy, puffy, kinky mane stands out. It is revolutionary. My hair is natural. It is the way God made it. My hair is nappy. And it is beautiful.

Winfrey Harris blogs at What Tami Said.