THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 28, 1996 TAG: 9604260225
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 06 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Editorial
SOURCE: RONALD L. SPEER
LENGTH: Long : 132 lines
Lucille played a wicked game of penny-ante poker. She enjoyed a racy joke, but quieted with a glacial stare anyone who went too far. She never missed Mass on Sunday, although she couldn't kneel because arthritis had crippled her when she was 37.
An Irish lass, she insisted we were here to enjoy life, although life was never easy for Lucille. She started teaching in a one-room school when she was 16. At 25, she gave birth to her second-born son - her 18-month old first-born her only companion - during a blizzard that for three days kept Dad from getting back to their lonely Nebraska ranchhouse with the doctor.
The Depression was hard on ranch operators in the '30s, and when times got better the arthritis struck. In the '50s the cattle market collapsed, and Lucille and her husband gave up and bought a $1,500 house in Hay Springs.
It was a good move. Despite her pain, they enjoyed a decade of their best years, Dad fishing when he pleased, Lucille delighted to have company every day.
In 1976, when she was 69, hunched, tired and tiny, social workers persuaded her to eat lunch at the dedication of a program that provided meals for the elderly for 50 cents.
If people knew the program had Lucille's blessing, they told her, the program's success was assured.
She went, but when she stepped outside after lunch a 70-mph gust tossed her nearly 20 feet and she broke her hip.
``Most expensive 50-cent meal I ever had,'' she said later with a laugh whenever company came.
Company came a lot to Mom's house in the tiny town. Folks came to play cards, eat the world's best cinnamon rolls, drink coffee and enjoy conversation.
And they came for advice and help.
Pregnant girls afraid to talk to their parents came. Fathers troubled by their kids came. Lonely women came, along with people who had money problems. So did women having affairs or trying to win back a husband who was having one.
In the little town, there wasn't much government help or any psychologists or counselors or hotlines. So Lucille handed out suggestions, gave freely of hugs, chided, charmed, organized and somehow seemed to help about everybody who wanted help.
I thought about Lucille Wednesday night at the annual awards banquet put on by the Dare Voluntary Action Center.
The folks picking up awards were Mom's kind of people.
Laura Dunne and Sara Jones, teenagers who helped get health insurance for the less fortunate, were honored. Ray and Beverly Mann were cited for transporting cancer patients. The Outer Banks Women's Club, which turns over $50,000 a year to help others, was singled out. So were Hotline volunteers, the Manteo High School Interact Club, Margaret McCauley, Lynda Midgett, the League of Women Voters, the Culinary Association, Jerry Froehlich, Lori York, Clair Sutton, Robert Wells, Peggy Birkemeier, Shelly Gordin(cq), Cathie Latta, Glenn Eure, Edith Deltgen and Gretchen Fischer. And the engineers who refurbished the display plane at the Wright Brothers museum.
Those people showed with their time, their energy, their knowhow and their money that they care about their community and their neighbors who find life a challenge.
They do good deeds without fanfare. Some of them make big personal sacrifices to help others. They all make the Outer Banks a warmer, homier, healthier place.
And as the government tries to balance the budget by cutting back on programs to help troubled people, more and more volunteers are going to be needed to take up the slack.
If you'd like to help, give DVAC a call at 480-0500.
And if Lucille answers, ask her how things are up there.
Lucille played a wicked game of penny-ante poker. She enjoyed a racy joke, but quieted with a glacial stare anyone who went too far. She never missed Mass on Sunday, although she couldn't kneel because arthritis had crippled her when she was 37.
An Irish lass, she insisted we were here to enjoy life, although life was never easy for Lucille. She started teaching in a one-room school when she was 16. At 25, she gave birth to her second-born son - her 18-month old first-born her only companion - during a blizzard that for three days kept Dad from getting back to their lonely Nebraska ranchhouse with the doctor.
The Depression was hard on ranch operators in the '30s, and when times got better the arthritis struck. In the '50s the cattle market collapsed, and Lucille and her husband gave up and bought a $1,500 house in Hay Springs.
It was a good move. Despite her pain, they enjoyed a decade of their best years, Dad fishing when he pleased, Lucille delighted to have company every day.
In 1976, when she was 69, hunched, tired and tiny, social workers persuaded her to eat lunch at the dedication of a program that provided meals for the elderly for 50 cents.
If people knew the program had Lucille's blessing, they told her, the program's success was assured.
She went, but when she stepped outside after lunch a 70-mph gust tossed her nearly 20 feet and she broke her hip.
``Most expensive 50-cent meal I ever had,'' she said later with a laugh whenever company came.
Company came a lot to Mom's house in the tiny town. Folks came to play cards, eat the world's best cinnamon rolls, drink coffee and enjoy conversation.
And they came for advice and help.
Pregnant girls afraid to talk to their parents came. Fathers troubled by their kids came. Lonely women came, along with people who had money problems. So did women having affairs or trying to win back a husband who was having one.
In the little town, there wasn't much government help or any psychologists or counselors or hotlines. So Lucille handed out suggestions, gave freely of hugs, chided, charmed, organized and somehow seemed to help about everybody who wanted help.
I thought about Lucille Wednesday night at the annual awards banquet put on by the Dare Voluntary Action Center.
The folks picking up awards were Mom's kind of people.
Laura Dunne and Sara Jones, teenagers who helped get health insurance for the less fortunate, were honored. Ray and Beverly Mann were cited for transporting cancer patients. The Outer Banks Women's Club, which turns over $50,000 a year to help others, was singled out. So were Hotline volunteers, the Manteo High School Interact Club, Margaret McCauley, Lynda Midgett, the League of Women Voters, the Culinary Association, Jerry Froehlich, Lori York, Clair Sutton, Robert Wells, Peggy Birkemeier, Shelly Gordin, Cathie Latta, Glenn Eure, Edith Deltgen and Gretchen Fischer. And the engineers who refurbished the display plane at the Wright Brothers museum.
Those people showed with their time, their energy, their knowhow and their money that they care about their community and their neighbors who find life a challenge.
They do good deeds without fanfare. Some of them make big personal sacrifices to help others. They all make the Outer Banks a warmer, homier, healthier place.
And as the government tries to balance the budget by cutting back on programs to help troubled people, more and more volunteers are going to be needed to take up the slack.
If you'd like to help, give DVAC a call at 480-0500.
And if Lucille answers, ask her how things are up there. by CNB