ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Friday, January 19, 1996 TAG: 9601190077
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A-1 EDITION: METRO
TYPE: NEWS OBIT
SOURCE: RICHARD FOSTER STAFF WRITER
NOTE: Below BEDFORD
VIRGINIA CRAWFORD died two weeks ago. Since then, people have been talking about the big difference she made.
There's a touching scene in Frank Capra's classic film, "It's A Wonderful Life," in which small-town building and loan operator George Bailey confronts the local slumlord, saying, "Just remember this, Mr. Potter: This rabble you're talking about, they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community.
"Is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple decent rooms and a bath?"
Bailey didn't think so, and neither did Virginia Crawford.
Crawford, a 44-year-old assistant vice president and loan officer at Bedford Federal Savings Bank, died two weeks ago after her car spun out of control on a patch of ice and hit a tree on a relatively warm, clear day.
Since her death, many Bedford County residents have mourned the loss of a crusader who quietly fought to make sure that honest, hard-working people had roofs over their heads. White ribbons now decorate all the Bedford Federal buildings and drive-through windows in her memory.
"Of all the people we could least afford to lose, we could least afford to lose her the most," said dairy farmer H.L. Morris of Body Camp.
He recalled how she helped arrange a loan for a neighbor who couldn't read or write. "She fixed him right up," Morris said. "He shouldn't have been able to buy a house. Most people wouldn't have given him a loan, but she would help people."
Bedford Federal's executive vice president and chief executive officer, Harold K. Neal, said, "I've had several people come up to me since her death commenting that if it wasn't for her, they wouldn't have a home or an automobile.
"On the occasions that a customer might have marginal credit, Virginia knew so many people in the county and their family backgrounds that she would often know the individuals better than the credit reports would show, and she could convince you to take a chance on them."
Jane Jurkus, an assistant vice president, said, "If she felt that somebody was a good person and would pay their loan, she'd argue with the loan committee for them. She had a real good sense of people."
"She would tell people coming into her office, 'Come on in the house,' just like it was her living room," said corporate secretary Nancy Snyder. "She had no pretensions at all."
And she was never afraid to help.
Gwen Witt, a customer service representative, recalled how years ago, on her first afternoon of working alone as a teller, she came up thousands of dollars short. The bank was scheduled to reopen in an hour, she said, and "I was scared to death. I couldn't find it, and I was panicked."
Crawford, who didn't work in Witt's section, came over, took her hand and helped her calm down. "She took control and helped me find it," Witt said. "She didn't have to do that, but she was always there to help."
A Bedford County native, Crawford came to Bedford Federal right out of Liberty High School in June 1969. She was one of three employees at the bank then, including the founder.
Over 26 years, she worked her way up in the growing institution, which now has three branches across the county and $115 million in assets.
At her death, "Ginnie Mae" as her co-workers liked to call her (after the nickname for the Government National Mortgage Association), was the most senior employee at the savings and loan.
A matronly figure with shoulder-length gray hair, glasses and a wide smile, she was quick with financial advice or a recipe for gravy or cookies, her friends say, though she rarely spent her lunches with them.
That's because most days she was feeding lunch to her father, who has been bedridden in the long-term care unit of Bedford County Memorial Hospital for the past couple of years.
Crawford's day started at 6 a.m. She would travel to the hospital, feed her father breakfast, then go to work. After getting off at 5 p.m., she would go home, change clothes and return to the hospital to feed her father dinner.
Then she'd come back home, fix a full-course meal for her husband, Tommy, and her twin 23-year-old sons. After that, she'd clean house and work on projects, finally allowing herself a little rest around 10 p.m., when she'd play Tetris on her Nintendo Gameboy.
And that was on the nights that she wasn't using her personal time to help loan customers close on a house or make inspections for a construction loan.
"Her energy level was amazing," her son Andy said. "She was such a busy lady, she just didn't stop. But as much of a businesswoman as she was, her family always came first."
Crawford processed roughly 125 loans a year, juggling 10 to 12 at a time. Yet she always knew who her customers were and never balked at giving them extra time.
Angie Newby, who works in the Bedford County Circuit Court Clerk's office, recalled how Crawford stayed at the bank past quitting time one day to make sure that Newby's home would close on time.
"She never said she didn't have time for me," Newby said.
Morris, the dairy farmer, remembers the time when he needed money to pay contractors or they would stop working on his house. Crawford showed up at his house at 9:30 that night with the necessary paperwork, just to make sure Morris would have his money the next day.
But, if one of her customers didn't pay back a loan, Crawford took it personally, her associates said.
"She'd call and say, 'This is Virginia at Bedford Federal. I'm really disappointed in you. Why haven't you made your payment?''' Jurkus recalled.
"She was just so wonderful that you would rise to higher standards to be sure you would pay her," Morris said. "Once you went in there with your problem, it became her problem."
That policy followed Crawford into death, her son said. She donated her heart, kidneys and other organs.
LENGTH: Long : 108 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: (headshot) Crawford.by CNB