Kristi
Wilkinson of Poway was driving to one of her many
appointments in early June when she caught a glimpse of
her hair in the mirror and quietly lamented about never
having time to get a trim and do other little things for
herself.
Moments later, her mobile phone rang. Her friend Melanie
Tucker was calling to say she had nominated Wilkinson
for a free makeover, and she had won.
Kevin Rohrig of Escondido received a similar call. On
Friday, both went to the Loft Hair Design in Escondido
for a full day of pampering, trimming, styling and
dyeing.
Loft Hair Designer owner Shawna Cruise said the makeover
contest was a way to celebrate the salon's recognition
as one of the top 200 fastest-growing salons in America.
The Loft's challenge to write a 200-word essay on why
people should get a makeover garnered many worthy
entries, but the extraordinary stories of Wilkinson and
Rohrig stood out from the typical requests from
stressed-out mothers with little time to pamper
themselves.
Wilkinson is a physical therapist and single mother
raising a son, 11, she adopted from Romania. Adding to
her busy schedule are doctor appointments related to her
pregnancy with twins, which she is carrying as a
surrogate for close friends who cannot have a child of
their own.
And then there is the work she does for a Tijuana
orphanage, which wasn't even mentioned in the essay that
won her the makeover.
As for Rohrig, he is living at the Fellowship Center, a
residential alcohol and drug-rehabilitation program in
Escondido.
"It really is a good place," he said. "Was being 29 and
being in a recovery house on my list? Not so much."
Rohrig said he took his last drink on his birthday, Jan.
19. He also had not shaved or cut his hair since then,
saying he wants to focus on more internal and spiritual
issues.
Clean, sober, and with a new job and plans to enroll in
college to study engineering and architecture, Rohrig
said it is time for a new look to go with his new life.
Cruise said she had planned to have just one winner, but
the two seemed so deserving, she had to pick both. Both
winners said they were humbled by the experience,
because they seldom had time these days to pamper
themselves.
"I don't have much time to shop," Wilkinson said. "My
friends sometimes buy me new shoes when they see the
ones I'm wearing."
After a facial, manicure, trim and highlighting,
Wilkinson said she probably would go out to dinner with
her friend Tucker.
"Otherwise, I'm going to take my son out for a date,"
she said.
Wilkinson was working as a physical therapist in
Colorado when she saw a Denver Post article about
overflowing orphanages in Romania. She went to the
country hoping to use her therapy skills to help the
children.
"I ended up moving over there," she said. "In 1997, I
met a little boy when he was 2. I fell in love with him.
But I'm single, and they weren't allowing single women
to adopt."
Wilkinson kept her hopes up, and the law eventually
changed. She got final approval for adoption in 2000 and
returned to the United States with Lukas, now 11.
Wilkinson's drive to help orphans didn't end with Lukas.
Working with Chaparral Elementary School in Poway, which
Lukas attends, Wilkinson started a recycling program to
raise money for Orphanage Emmanuel in Tijuana.
"I thought, 'How can we raise money at the schools
without pestering the parents?'" she said. "So we
started a recycling project at the school, and now raise
more than $1,000 a year."
At 40, Wilkinson has never had a child of her own, but
she stepped up when her friends Brenan and Jane Staples,
both teachers in Escondido, tried unsuccessfully to
adopt a child.
When her friend Brenan first talked to her about being a
surrogate, Wilkinson said no.
"But then I just continued to think about it," she said.
"As I saw this man be a teacher, and I saw his love for
children, I thought, 'I'm going to do it.'"
Wilkinson said doctors usually do not use surrogates
older than 38, and she was 39 at the time. They said she
had a 1 percent change of conceiving. She not only
proved them wrong, but is pregnant with twin boys who
are due in October.
Rohrig nominated himself for a makeover on a whim after
seeing a flier for the contest in a coffee shop.
In his essay, Rohrig wrote about a drinking problem that
started at 18. He dropped out of college, worked in
restaurants in bars, and generally partied too much, he
wrote.
"Due to my continued drinking and partying over the last
decade, I saw my life fall apart during my 28th year,"
he wrote. "I crashed my truck, quit three different jobs
over the course the year, allowed my condo to go into
foreclosure and blew off every friend and family member
I had."
Sporting a mountain-man beard, Rohrig and Cruise walked
a few blocks from the Loft to Bev's Barbershop on
Friday, where Bev Granger would shave his beard.
"It's my whirlwind media tour," he said as a television
camera followed him. "It's my 15 minutes. I don't know
if I'm ready for it."
Rohrig said he realized he should change his ways Dec.
17. A Chargers game was on TV, and he looked forward to
a day at home alone with his dog, drinking, barbecuing
and watching football.
The day began with bloody Marys and ended with an empty
liquor cabinet. Before going bar-hopping that night,
Rohrig said, he stopped to look at himself in the
bathroom mirror.
"My face was bloated," he said. "My eyes were red. And
when I look into my eyes, I saw nothing. Loneliness.
Fear. Complete emptiness. I just saw a human shell.
There was no soul left."
He doesn't even remember watching the game, the whole
point of the day, he said.
Rohrig went to the store and bought many cans of soup,
knowing what he faced the next week. For the next
several days, he barely moved from his brother's couch,
sick to his stomach and able to hold down only liquids.
Finally detoxed, he checked himself into the Fellowship
Center, where he is today. His dog is living with his
brother.
"My life is like a country song," Rohrig joked. "Lost my
car, lost my dog ..."
The life is back in his eyes, and as the beard came off,
a healthy and handsome young man emerged.
By that afternoon, as vintage cars and crowds began
appearing outside the salon for the Friday night Cruisin'
Grand, the staff and customers at the Hair Loft were
oohing and ahhing at Rohrig and Wilkinson, who modestly
took it all in strike.
"I want to be here all the time," Rohrig said. "This has
been a fabulous day."
Stepping outside, a fellow resident of the Fellowship
stopped in his tracks at seeing Rohrig.
"What the hell?" he said. "I didn't recognize you."
