July 23, 2006

Once upon a time in rural Ashland County in north central Ohio , there was born a little bundle of innate stubbornness, creativity and theatrical flair --- all evident at that very, very young age. Of course, her sign was Taurus.

Anyway, raised on a very large working farm that supported the show horse portion of the operation, I was introduced to those four-legged wonders of the animal world long before I attended elementary school. Outfitted in child-size boots and jodhpurs, I certainly looked the part of a budding horsewoman … learning, first, to muck out the stalls before I was permitted even to clean the tack. Trust me, I have pitched more manure than most people ever knew existed.

In high school I was a basketball, volleyball, and softball wonder, as well as being involved in all the requisite extracurricular activities. But soon I discovered the THEATRE. To my parents' chagrin, I decided to major in English and drama in college. But that too is another a story. I went to Wittenberg University only because my big brother dared me. I guess that was better than mom's choice --- Lake Erie College for Women in Ashtabula . EEEEEEK!!!!

After graduation in 1961, I came to a big city full of traffic, bright lights, and more people that I had ever seen in one area --- Columbus . Trust me, for a farm girl who just graduated from a church college, this was the big city. My first job of any value was at Battelle Memorial Institute, where I began as a proofreader of technical materials and ended my short two-year Battelle career as an editor of top-secret scientific and economic reports. Yes, I was cleared by the Department of Defense, Atomic Energy Commission and whatever other federal entity needing my “blood type”. After nearly a year of reading about the tensile strength of steel and various oxides as well as attempting to make sense out of economic reports about things like chicken coops with open slotted flooring in the southwest, my right brain seemed to atrophy.

But I digress. Many jobs followed Battelle --- lobbyist and PR manager for the Ohio Manufacturers' Association, speech writer for an Ohio congressman, PR guru for the Ohio Dental Association, worked for the Ohio Bureau of Drug Abuse while on a federal LEAA grant, and, of course, all those other positions that offered few bragging rights and even less money. And I don't talk about them.

My tenure at Battelle did result in my introduction to the little theatre community in central Ohio . I quickly become quite active in the original Players Club, Stadium Theatre, Independent Players as well as Playhouse on the Green and Gallery Players. It seems that technical theatre worker bees were at a premium. Few people really wanted to stage manage, design and set lighting, design and build sets, and all that good stuff. I became the stage manager of choice

--- I had the wonderful opportunity of working with some of the best local directors of the 60s and 70s. What great fun!!!! For more than 10 years I was not out of a show, meaning I was either working on or working in a show. Oh, those were the days. However, a bunch of us always felt there must have been another way to Broadway. Oh, the dreams of our youth. I made life-long friends from those days of little glory and outrageous good times. And most continue to be in my life today. I'm very lucky.

It was during my stint in “drug abuse” that I met my future husband. Joe was the hot, hairy Hungarian of my dreams. Before he came along, I had the required number of suitors but none got my juices flowing like he did. So at the ripe old age of 33, I married my soul mate. And my life changed forever. He brought into the marriage a leather recliner, a stereo, 700 record albums, and the most marvelous sense of humor enhanced by the deepest, sexiest voice in the whole world. God, I miss him. You see, in Feb. 1980 he suffered a severe heart attack, followed by cardiac arrest. With significant and irreparable damage to the heart and brain, there was little if any hope for him to get “well”. Since he was considered medically fragile and since I needed to work to pay the bills, Joe was placed in a skilled nursing facility here in town. With a trach, ng tube and urinary catheter as well as two-hours turns and four-hour feeds, it was where he needed to be. It broke my heart. Every day I would go to jump on Joe, shave and bathe him, tell him about my day, the weather, even read the newspaper out loud. With the help of many good friends, I patterned him much like you would move the limbs of a brain-damaged child. Because of this he never experienced painful atrophies, constrictures, or bedsores. During the last six and a half years of his life, our daily routine was dictated by his illness and needs. When he died in August 1986, a big piece of me went with him. And you know what, I would give anything to be able to once again tell him about my day.

A couple of weeks after Joe's funeral, my dear friend, The Grumpy Gourmet, invited me to brunch at a nearby Waffle House and a shopping spree at the neighborhood Odd Lots. Somehow he knew exactly what his old friend needed. How could I feel sorry for myself while laughing hard enough to wet my pants? So I let the healing begin.

Shortly after Joe and I had gotten married an old friend asked me to update his resume. No big deal. Little did I know that I would begin working for The Columbus Dispatch because of that tiny act of kindness. You see, that old friend was hired as the Director of Personnel and I soon received a phone call asking about my availability. So I enjoyed working for the Wolfe family and the Big D for 25 years. You can't imagine how exciting it was to work for a daily newspaper, albeit not in the newsroom. It was a dream job

--- I had the responsibility for developing and directing 23 special events each year, writing speeches for John F. Wolfe, supervising the activities of the Newspapers in Education Program, and overseeing tours of the production facility. Trust me, that job was a public relations person's hog heaven.