DENTIST'S ENERGY HELPS BRING ORAL AID TO WILDERNESS.

Byline: David Greenberg Daily News Staff Writer

Norman Nagel, a Conejo Valley orthodontist, community college trustee, family man and sometime marathon runner, has a side job his patients can really sink their teeth into.

As a colonel in the Army National Guard, Nagel manages to squeeze several weeks each year providing free dental care for rural Alaskans as part of periodic missions also involving the Marine, Air Force and Navy reserves. He travels to remote villages, treating adults and children alike, many of whom have never even used a toothbrush.

``The real tragedy is when I see an 11- or 13-year-old with no front teeth,'' said Nagel, a 25-year Thousand Oaks resident. ``But their parents have no front teeth. And their grandparents have no front teeth. So they don't think much about it.''

This spring, he was awarded the Alaska Community Service Medal from Gov. Tony Knowles for his efforts during excursions in the late winter of 1997 and the spring of 1998.

During the most recent trip, from March 23 through April 4, Nagel headed the dental care unit, overseeing 25 dentists and 35 assistants.

Though born in Chicago 55 years ago and educated at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, nothing prepared him for working in temperatures that can drop to 30 below zero.

``Now I realize that Alaskan winters are definitely much colder than Chicago winters,'' Nagel said. ``And they last longer.''

The Alaskan town of Bethel - with only 2,800 residents - served as the central meeting place for military caregivers. The only paved road provided access from the center of town to a small airport on the outskirts. The dirt paths leading to the tiny remote Yupik villages outside of Bethel - the team's coverage area was roughly the size of Kansas - were covered in snow.

``The only way to get around is by air, dog sled or snow machine,'' said Navy Reserve Cmdr. Dave Misisco, who headed the entire mission. ``The whole emphasis is getting people to work in these remote villages in adverse weather conditions.''

Among the 1,600 people who received dental care, Nagel vividly recalls one Yupik in his 30s who developed a toothache during a fishing trip about two months before the military unit arrived.

The Yupik tried extracting the tooth with a pair of pliers, but a portion broke off, leaving the root dangling from his gum.

The fisherman suffered in silence until Nagel's unit arrived.

``They just tolerate it,'' he said. ``But they were grateful that we came in. You really felt like you were accepted.''

The government paid Nagel $250 a day for working 8 a.m. to 9 p.m., Monday through Saturday.

Besides direct care, the military personnel host workshops to educate the local medical personnel on how to treat residents.

Tragedy follows triumphs

``It gives you a great feeling of accomplishment to help these individuals who because of their extreme location, just ordinarily don't go to health care providers,'' Nagel said. ``You can get them out of pain and bring them up to a higher standard of oral health.''

Sadly, the past two missions were not completed without moments of tragedy, he said.

During the 1997 visit to Quinhagak, a town of about 540 people, a man in his early 20s accidentally shot his brother, a decade younger, while preparing for a hunting trip.

The bullet went into the boy's heart - a day after the unit's heart surgeon left the area to return to his practice in Orange County.

Weather conditions made it impossible to fly the victim to a hospital. All the doctors could do was administer CPR and hope that outside help with necessary equipment would arrive in time.

It did not.

``He really died right after CPR was started,'' Nagel recalled.

The medical team helped prepare the body for burial and took part in the funeral procession.

``The village bonded with us,'' Nagel said.

Some of the doctors and assistants grew attached to the people of Quinhagak and requested the same assignment this year.

During that time, a teen-age boy with a history of substance abuse shot his mother at point-blank range with a .22-caliber rifle, killing her while she slept.

Nagel attributed the clash of cultures as part of the reason why the level of alcohol and drug abuse is so high in their areas.

``The youth are caught between two worlds - the traditional world of the Yupik culture and the modern world they see via their satellite TVs,'' he said.

Keeping in shape

Nagel, who is married with four children, does not leave his exercise regiment behind when he embarks on a mission.

Although he no longer has the time to run 50 to 70 miles a week to train for marathons - he completed the Los Angeles and Long Beach events in 1987 - Nagel still manages to jog five or six miles a day.

What changes is his jogging attire: a wool mask, three layers of sweat pants and shirts, and two pairs of gloves.

``I was pretty toasty,'' Nagel said. ``I was sweating.''

As president of the Ventura County Community College District, he was immersed in 16 months of bitter negotiations with the 1,300-member faculty union. The sides last week reached a tentative agreement on a three-year contract.

Despite his seemingly endless energy, Nagel was asked four years ago to retire from the Navy Reserves.

After 30 years of service, he was told he was too old.

So Nagel promptly joined the Army counterpart.

``The Army said, `We think you have a few good years left, young man,' '' he said.

CAPTION(S):

2 Photos

PHOTO (1) Thousand Oaks dentist Norman Nagel shows off his Alaska Community Service Medal for work in remote areas with the Army Reserve.

(2) (Ran in Conejo Edition only) Thousand Oaks dentist Nagel examines a young patient.

Tom Mendoza/Daily News