Lisa Krantz, Robin Loznak

Douglas.Rider, April 19, 2023April 20, 2023

Lisa Krantz

Carrie Windham comforts her son, Rowan, 9, as he sleeps in a hospital room at Methodist Children's Hospital in San Antonio September 2015. Rowan was battling an E. coli infection in his bloodstream, fevers and headaches. Three days earlier, Rowan had participated in the Head for the Cure 5K walk/run for brain cancer research.

Rowan Windham, 8, sings and dances during a rehearsal for Shrek II at Woodlawn Theatre in San Antonio May 2015. One of his main passions was acting even through he often had to endure nine-hour iron infusions at a clinic before going to the theater. Woodlawn Theatre awards a scholarship in his name every year.

After 10 days in the pediatric intensive care unit fighting a severe bacterial infection, Rowan and his mother, Carrie, celebrate New Year's Eve at Methodist Children's Hospital. Carrie made confetti out of construction paper and they made a list of resolutions.

Brian kisses Rowan as Brian's stem cells flow into Rowan's body from bag hanging on the IV pole, left, in the pediatric intensive care unit at Seattle Children's Hospital on Oct. 18, 2016. Rowan's body rejected his first bone marrow transplant so his father, Brian, also a half-match, became the donor for a second one. Rowan's body, ravaged by the first treatment, had no immune system of his own. Days before the second transplant, Rowan fell into a coma because of an infection in his cerebral spinal fluid. Despite the second transplant, Rowan died Dec. 15, 2016, at the age of 10 from multiple organ failure and sepsis.

Brian kisses Rowan as Brian's stem cells flow into Rowan's body from bag hanging on the IV pole, left, in the pediatric intensive care unit at Seattle Children's Hospital on Oct. 18, 2016. Rowan's body rejected his first bone marrow transplant so his father, Brian, also a half-match, became the donor for a second one. Rowan's body, ravaged by the first treatment, had no immune system of his own. Days before the second transplant, Rowan fell into a coma because of an infection in his cerebral spinal fluid. Despite the second transplant, Rowan died Dec. 15, 2016, at the age of 10 from multiple organ failure and sepsis.

Carrie visits Rowan's grave near New Braunfels on Mother's Day, May 14, 2017. Carrie had not only lost her son a few months earlier, but her mother also died unexpectedly three weeks before Rowan's death. The night before Mother's Day, Carrie wrote on her blog: "Rowan, I vividly remember you entering this world ... too early, small, weak, blue. But you were such a fighter, such a shining light in this often dark world. In ten years, you taught me a lifetime of lessons. Then, during the biggest battle of your life ... which you still loved, as much as ever ... you were gone in what felt like an instant. 151 days ago, my world turned upside down. I watched you take your last unassisted breaths, and then you left this world, just like you entered it ... too early, small, weak, blue."

Capt. Cereal watches a video featuring photos of Rowan during the Rowan Windham Memorial Cereal Drive presentation at Methodist Children's Hospital on June 9, 2017.

STORY SUMMARY: For most of his life, Hector Garcia Jr. battled severe obesity and all its consequences: the pain, the ridicule and the lost hopes. Bullied and ostracized as a child, he turned to food for comfort early. Hector lives in San Antonio, Texas, a city that has a place on Òfattest cityÓ lists every year. Recent figures from Gallup show the city has the second-highest obesity rate among major U.S. cities. 31 percent of San Antonians are obese and 65.7 percent of adults in the county are overweight or obese. Despite San AntonioÕs efforts to curb obesity, an untold number of people with severe obesity live in isolation like Garcia, unable to find or access the medical and psychological help they need to combat its pervasive effects. After years of repeatedly gaining and losing hundreds of pounds, Garcia, who at one point weighed 636 pounds, once again was stuck in the back bedroom of his parents' modest house. In 2010, Garcia renewed his effort to lose weight. With only diet and exercise, he lost over 300 pounds, in hopes of receiving double knee replacement surgery he thought would change his life dramatically for the better. Two surgeries turned into four and Garcia was unable to exercise. He grew depressed and once again turned to food as comfort. Over the next year, Garcia regained the weight he had fought so hard to lose, continuing the cycle of obesity. CAPTION: At almost 600 pounds, Hector Garcia Jr. finds simple daily tasks like bathing a challenge. He struggled to walk across the hall from his bedroom to the bathroom so that his mother, Elena, could wash him after cutting his hair in November 2010. A month before, Hector started dieting after he realized he was close to his highest known weight, 636 pounds.

Hector Garcia Jr. is skeptical of the sugar-free cake his mother bought for him as he celebrates his 45th birthday with his niece, Lauren Ibarra, in November 2010. "Food didn't mistreat me. Food never said anything bad to me, so I took comfort in eating. And I was making the problem worse," Hector now realizes.

Hector Garcia Jr. rests after walking laps for the first time at the Palo Alto College Aquatic Center pool in May 2011. Barely able to move without the aid of a walker because of his damaged knees, Hector could walk in the water with less pain and began an exercise routine based on walking laps in the pool. "Because I was lonely, because I was ostracized, because I was mistreated, I turned to food for comfort," Hector said of his lifelong relationship with food.

As he begins to drift off, Hector Garcia Jr. is prepared for anesthesia and his first knee replacement surgery at Mission Trail Baptist Hospital in July 2012. After years of carrying hundreds of extra pounds, Garcia could barely walk on his damaged knees. He'd lost more than 300 pounds on his own through dieting and exercise so he could have both knees fixed.

Hector Garcia Jr.'s body is removed from his home Dec. 8, 2014, by contractors with the Bexar County Medical Examiner's Office. Hector had walked 40 feet from his room to answer the front door when his mother arrived home without her key. "Mom, I can't breathe, Mom, I can't breathe," Hector's mother, Elena, described him saying before he collapsed in her recliner. "Just that walk from the bedroom door, that's all it took," she said.

Crumb, one of the Garcia family dogs, lies on Hector Garcia Jr.'s bed shortly after his body was removed by contractors with the Bexar County Medical Examiner's Office early Dec. 9, 2014.

Twice Betrayed 08

Pastor Frank Pomeroy comforts his wife, Sherri Pomeroy, before heading to the pulpit to deliver his sermon on Sunday, Oct. 21, 2018, on what would have been the 15th birthday for their daughter, Annabelle, who was shot and killed last year at their church, First Baptist Church of Sutherland Springs. Their grandson, Lee Pomeroy, right. also provides comfort for Sherri during the service.

HELOTES CORNYVAL LK

workman wedding lk

Sutherland Springs year anniversary lk

18 Sutherland Springs 06

Carrie Windham comforts her son, Rowan, 9, as he sleeps in a hospital room at Methodist Children's Hospital in San Antonio September 2015. Rowan was battling an E. coli infection in his bloodstream, fevers and headaches. Three days earlier, Rowan had participated in the Head for the Cure 5K walk/run for brain cancer research.

Rowan Windham, 8, sings and dances during a rehearsal for Shrek II at Woodlawn Theatre in San Antonio May 2015. One of his main passions was acting even through he often had to endure nine-hour iron infusions at a clinic before going to the theater. Woodlawn Theatre awards a scholarship in his name every year.

After 10 days in the pediatric intensive care unit fighting a severe bacterial infection, Rowan and his mother, Carrie, celebrate New Year's Eve at Methodist Children's Hospital. Carrie made confetti out of construction paper and they made a list of resolutions.

Brian kisses Rowan as Brian's stem cells flow into Rowan's body from bag hanging on the IV pole, left, in the pediatric intensive care unit at Seattle Children's Hospital on Oct. 18, 2016. Rowan's body rejected his first bone marrow transplant so his father, Brian, also a half-match, became the donor for a second one. Rowan's body, ravaged by the first treatment, had no immune system of his own. Days before the second transplant, Rowan fell into a coma because of an infection in his cerebral spinal fluid. Despite the second transplant, Rowan died Dec. 15, 2016, at the age of 10 from multiple organ failure and sepsis.

Brian kisses Rowan as Brian's stem cells flow into Rowan's body from bag hanging on the IV pole, left, in the pediatric intensive care unit at Seattle Children's Hospital on Oct. 18, 2016. Rowan's body rejected his first bone marrow transplant so his father, Brian, also a half-match, became the donor for a second one. Rowan's body, ravaged by the first treatment, had no immune system of his own. Days before the second transplant, Rowan fell into a coma because of an infection in his cerebral spinal fluid. Despite the second transplant, Rowan died Dec. 15, 2016, at the age of 10 from multiple organ failure and sepsis.

Carrie visits Rowan's grave near New Braunfels on Mother's Day, May 14, 2017. Carrie had not only lost her son a few months earlier, but her mother also died unexpectedly three weeks before Rowan's death. The night before Mother's Day, Carrie wrote on her blog: "Rowan, I vividly remember you entering this world ... too early, small, weak, blue. But you were such a fighter, such a shining light in this often dark world. In ten years, you taught me a lifetime of lessons. Then, during the biggest battle of your life ... which you still loved, as much as ever ... you were gone in what felt like an instant. 151 days ago, my world turned upside down. I watched you take your last unassisted breaths, and then you left this world, just like you entered it ... too early, small, weak, blue."

Capt. Cereal watches a video featuring photos of Rowan during the Rowan Windham Memorial Cereal Drive presentation at Methodist Children's Hospital on June 9, 2017.

STORY SUMMARY: For most of his life, Hector Garcia Jr. battled severe obesity and all its consequences: the pain, the ridicule and the lost hopes. Bullied and ostracized as a child, he turned to food for comfort early. Hector lives in San Antonio, Texas, a city that has a place on Òfattest cityÓ lists every year. Recent figures from Gallup show the city has the second-highest obesity rate among major U.S. cities. 31 percent of San Antonians are obese and 65.7 percent of adults in the county are overweight or obese. Despite San AntonioÕs efforts to curb obesity, an untold number of people with severe obesity live in isolation like Garcia, unable to find or access the medical and psychological help they need to combat its pervasive effects. After years of repeatedly gaining and losing hundreds of pounds, Garcia, who at one point weighed 636 pounds, once again was stuck in the back bedroom of his parents' modest house. In 2010, Garcia renewed his effort to lose weight. With only diet and exercise, he lost over 300 pounds, in hopes of receiving double knee replacement surgery he thought would change his life dramatically for the better. Two surgeries turned into four and Garcia was unable to exercise. He grew depressed and once again turned to food as comfort. Over the next year, Garcia regained the weight he had fought so hard to lose, continuing the cycle of obesity. CAPTION: At almost 600 pounds, Hector Garcia Jr. finds simple daily tasks like bathing a challenge. He struggled to walk across the hall from his bedroom to the bathroom so that his mother, Elena, could wash him after cutting his hair in November 2010. A month before, Hector started dieting after he realized he was close to his highest known weight, 636 pounds.

Hector Garcia Jr. is skeptical of the sugar-free cake his mother bought for him as he celebrates his 45th birthday with his niece, Lauren Ibarra, in November 2010. "Food didn't mistreat me. Food never said anything bad to me, so I took comfort in eating. And I was making the problem worse," Hector now realizes.

Hector Garcia Jr. rests after walking laps for the first time at the Palo Alto College Aquatic Center pool in May 2011. Barely able to move without the aid of a walker because of his damaged knees, Hector could walk in the water with less pain and began an exercise routine based on walking laps in the pool. "Because I was lonely, because I was ostracized, because I was mistreated, I turned to food for comfort," Hector said of his lifelong relationship with food.

As he begins to drift off, Hector Garcia Jr. is prepared for anesthesia and his first knee replacement surgery at Mission Trail Baptist Hospital in July 2012. After years of carrying hundreds of extra pounds, Garcia could barely walk on his damaged knees. He'd lost more than 300 pounds on his own through dieting and exercise so he could have both knees fixed.

Hector Garcia Jr.'s body is removed from his home Dec. 8, 2014, by contractors with the Bexar County Medical Examiner's Office. Hector had walked 40 feet from his room to answer the front door when his mother arrived home without her key. "Mom, I can't breathe, Mom, I can't breathe," Hector's mother, Elena, described him saying before he collapsed in her recliner. "Just that walk from the bedroom door, that's all it took," she said.

Crumb, one of the Garcia family dogs, lies on Hector Garcia Jr.'s bed shortly after his body was removed by contractors with the Bexar County Medical Examiner's Office early Dec. 9, 2014.

Twice Betrayed 08

Pastor Frank Pomeroy comforts his wife, Sherri Pomeroy, before heading to the pulpit to deliver his sermon on Sunday, Oct. 21, 2018, on what would have been the 15th birthday for their daughter, Annabelle, who was shot and killed last year at their church, First Baptist Church of Sutherland Springs. Their grandson, Lee Pomeroy, right. also provides comfort for Sherri during the service.

HELOTES CORNYVAL LK

workman wedding lk

Sutherland Springs year anniversary lk

18 Sutherland Springs 06

Award winning photojournalist for the San Antonio Express-News Lisa Krantz talks about getting started in photojournalism, her stories Rowan’s Reach and A Life Apart: The Toll of Obesity and what it takes to cover stories with difficult endings.

Lisa Krantz website: http://lisakrantz.com

Robin Loznak

Zuma photographer Robin Loznak Talks about taking a picture of a chicken crossing the road.

Robin Loznak website: http://robinloznakphotography.blogspot.com

Behind the News Photographer