My Ozarks Documentary Film Series
My Ozarks is a collection of short, intimate portraits of real people, places and experiences in The Ozarks.
Season Two: Reparative History
Honoring the Past to heal the present and dream the future
This season of My Ozarks features histories of the Ozarks that are lesser known, less visible, or most at risk of being forgotten or erased. Our aim is to bring communities closer together through respectful recognition of our shared past, acknowledging both the proud and painful histories we inherit. By illuminating stories that have been overlooked—whether rooted in community, culture, service, or personal loss—we believe this work of metabolizing the past can strengthen the social fabric, build bridges of trust, cooperation, and healing across differences, and help to unify, nourish, and sustain community wellbeing.
Episode 13: Kevin
In this intimate portrait, memorial artist Kevin Hale turns grief into purpose, shaping stone into a source of healing. What began in personal loss has become his most meaningful work—a collaborative healing project for military Veterans living with the invisible burdens they carry home.
The Film
A film by J.T. Ibanez. Filmed on location in Farmington and Perryville, Missouri. Presented by Ozark Vitality with support from Missouri’s National Veterans Memorial. Major funding provided by Missouri Humanities.
The Backstory: Kevin Hale, Farmington, Missouri
Kevin working at his studio during filming of Episode 13. Photo by Quinsonta Boyd.
By Tami Hale
Rooted in Craft, Family, and Place
Kevin Hale was raised on his family’s land in Farmington, Missouri, where early lessons in creativity, craftsmanship, and quiet resilience shaped his path. His father, Ron Hale, served in the U.S. Navy for over two decades, retiring as a Commander before returning to the farm where he had grown up. Against that rural backdrop, Kevin spent his childhood sketching, building, and exploring—developing both a reverence for the land and a lifelong devotion to art that would one day become his life’s work.
After studying architecture and horticulture in college, Kevin didn’t expect to find his life’s work in granite. But when a local company asked if he’d try his hand at etching artwork onto a headstone, something clicked. The work combined his love of drawing, his technical precision, and a growing respect for how people honor memory and loss. That first project led to many more, eventually becoming a full-time calling. Through his studio, Eternal Etchings, Kevin has spent over two decades transforming stone into meaningful memorials—etched tributes that blend artistry and empathy, each piece a story preserved.
The Heart of the Work: Love, Loss, and the Infant Memorial Garden
Kevin and Emily at their wedding
Kevin’s most personal work began within his own family. He and his wife Emily had long dreamed of having children. Their first daughter was born and died on the same day—a tragedy made bearable only by the support of family, friends, and the structure of a traditional funeral. But in the years that followed, they endured three miscarriages. There were no ceremonies that time. No clear way to speak the loss. No space to grieve. Like so many parents who suffer pregnancy loss, they carried the sorrow quietly.
Burial place for Kevin and Emily’s first daughter.
Panel at the Infant Memorial Garden remembering Kevin and Emily’s first daughter and three babies lost to miscarriage (top left).
That silence is more common than most people realize. In the U.S., about one in four pregnancies ends in miscarriage or stillbirth. Each year, more than 20,000 babies are stillborn, and tens of thousands more die before they ever leave the hospital. Despite this, very few communities have dedicated places for grieving. Memorial gardens for miscarried or stillborn children are rare; in many towns, families must find personal ways to mourn something the world doesn’t always acknowledge.
In Farmington, Kevin helped change that. He and Emily created the Farmington Infant Memorial Garden—a sacred space where silent grief could be named. Over time, other families added names, dates, and tokens of remembrance, building a place of quiet solidarity. The garden became a sanctuary for people whose losses had no funeral, whose sorrow had no outlet. And for Kevin, it became something more: a turning point.
It revealed how healing begins when private pain is given public recognition. And it became the emotional and philosophical foundation of his most ambitious work.
A Shared Burden: Laying Down the Trauma We Carry
Out of the infant memorial grew the idea for something larger: a memorial for those who carry a different kind of invisible grief—veterans, first responders, and others living with post-traumatic stress. Kevin is not a Veteran, but he recognized in their experience the same emotional weight he had come to understand intimately: the burden of suffering silently, of surviving something life-altering with no culturally accepted way to speak about it.
Emily and Kevin with daughter Myranda and son Kaiden
Through all the heartbreak, hope quietly returned. Kevin and Emily welcomed their daughter Myranda about a year and a half after losing their first baby—and just seven months after Kevin’s father passed away. Her birth brought joy in the midst of sorrow and became a symbol of resilience for their family. Several years later, after enduring three more miscarriages, their son Kaiden was born—a long-awaited answer to a deeply held dream. Today, Myranda is 16 and Kaiden is 12. While their journey into parenthood was marked by grief, it also brought them the small, beautiful family they had always hoped for—making every name etched, every stone carved, and every memory honored that much more meaningful.
The statistics are staggering. Among post-9/11 Veterans, nearly one in three has experienced PTSD. The suicide rate among veterans remains twice as high as that of the general population—with more than 6,000 Veterans dying by suicide each year. And the trauma extends beyond the military: police officers, firefighters, EMTs, and 911 dispatchers all experience PTSD at rates far above the civilian average. In fact, research suggests that first responders are more likely to die by suicide than in the line of duty. Yet in all of these professions, stigma often prevents people from seeking help. The pain remains locked away—just as it does for families who suffer pregnancy loss with no language to express it.
This understanding shaped Kevin’s most meaningful project to date: Laying Down the Burden—a public memorial designed to honor those living with the invisible wounds of trauma. Set on the grounds of Missouri’s National Veterans Memorial in Perryville—home to the state’s full-scale replica of the Vietnam Wall—it will stand as one of the first permanent, artistic memorials in the country dedicated to the psychological aftermath of war and service.
Full Sized Replica of Vietnam Wall at Missouri’s National Veterans Memorial
The project is also a collaboration with renowned bronze sculptor Harry Weber, whose acclaimed work appears in public spaces across the country. A longtime friend and creative partner of Kevin’s, Weber brings a lifetime of artistic insight to what will be his final memorial project—the capstone of his career. Their shared vision is not simply to honor lives lost, but to reach the living: those who feel they must carry their pain alone.
Clay model for bronze sculptures by Harry Weber that will be the centerpiece of Laying Down the Burden memorial
Just as the infant memorial created a place for grieving the unseen, Laying Down the Burden creates space for acknowledging, connecting, and healing. It honors Veterans who continue to fight battles no one sees, and invites all of us to listen more carefully, hold space more gently, and believe that pain shared is pain lightened.
Kevin’s journey reveals a universal truth: when we make space for unspoken pain—when we etch it into stone and offer it without judgment—we give it dignity. And in doing so, we help carry the burden together.
The Place
FARMINGTON, Missouri 37.77019° N, 90.42151° W
A Corridor of Healing in the Heart of the Missouri ozarks
Farmington and Perryville, Missouri, are two small towns nestled in the northeastern edge of the Ozarks—an area known for its natural beauty, deep-rooted traditions, and strong sense of community. Just over an hour’s drive south of St. Louis, both towns are easily accessible yet grounded in the quiet rhythms of rural life. In Farmington, the infant memorial garden is located in the New Calvary Cemetery, created by St. Joseph Catholic Church, on South Henry Street, just south of the Old Calvary Cemetery. Though unassuming and difficult to find on most maps, the garden sits at 37.77019° N, 90.42151° W, offering a sacred and peaceful space for families to honor pregnancy and infant loss. Forty miles east, Perryville is home to Missouri’s National Veterans Memorial, which includes the only full-scale exact replica of the Vietnam Wall in Washington, D.C. Together, these places form a meaningful corridor of remembrance and healing in the Missouri Ozarks.
The Filmmakers
J.T. Ibanez, Cinematographer, Director, Editor and Sound Design. J.T. is a U.S. Army Iraq War Veteran who first picked up a camera as a form of therapy. Roughly 8 years later he is known for his interesting high quality visuals, camera work, eye catching editing and colors. He has also carved a space for himself as a music video director working with the likes of Atreyu, Sevendust, Hawthorne Heights, P.O.D., Loveless, Orianthi, Shaman's Harvest and many more.
J.T. owns J.T. Ibanez Films and a 6,000 SF film and photography studio, Stage 27. Find him on Instagram @jt_ibanez, @stage27stl and @grayrecordings.
Matthew Goodman, Second Camera and Sound Recording. Matt is a cinematographer, sound recordist, and owner of The Film Legends, a St. Louis–based production company known for its polished music videos and independent film work. With a sharp eye for rhythm and style, Matthew brings both artistic vision and technical expertise to every shoot. Equipped with top-tier gear and a collaborative spirit, Matthew’s presence on set ensures both precision and creativity. Find him on Instagram @TheFilmLegendsSTL and Facebook @TheFilmLegendsSTL
Tami Hale, Producer and Backstory Writer. Tami is a film producer and nonprofit leader with a decade of experience crafting human-centered stories rooted in place and purpose. As a founder of Ozark Vitality, she works at the intersection of storytelling, community engagement, and economic development—using film to amplify underrepresented voices, strengthen local identity, and spark connection and investment in rural communities. She has produced more than 18 short films and created the My Ozarks mini-documentary series, which helps both emerging and established filmmakers share meaningful, place-based stories. This episode holds special significance for her, as Kevin Hale is not only the subject—but also her brother.
The film crew. Left to right: Roger Wibbenmeyer (MNVM Board Member), Kevin Hale, J.T. Ibanez, Tami Hale, Rae Lynn Munoz (MNVM Executive Director), Matthew Goodman. Photo by Sean Loftin.
Behind the Scenes Photography
Photos by Sean Loftin and Quinsonta Boyd
Sean Loftin of Ubertonic Films spent eight years as a photojournalist for newspapers and eight years as an elementary school teacher prior to working as Director of Photography for Speakup Productions and starting his own video production company in 2015. He believes stories are abundant in every community and seeks to connect with people who might not otherwise be heard, to understand and help share the stories most important to them. Find him on Instagram: @ubertonicfilms.
Quinsonta Boyd of Boyd Media is an independent artist based in St. Louis, Missouri. A board member of Continuity St. Louis, he’s spent the past decade bringing bold, dynamic visuals to life for organizations like St. Louis ArtWorks, Nine Network, and the St. Louis Science Center. Find him on Instagram @boydmediastl and Facebook @BoydMediaSTL.
