Alice

In 2003 I had bounced from a 3 yr contract with OEMI/CDC under the Army after my contract terminated to redirect funds to Operation Iraqi Freedom to a local hospital and joined Infection Control. Over the course of 5+ years I learned a little too much about issues inside of hospitals and was burnt out. I left healthcare in 2010 and was enjoying my free time when a friend called and asked me to come and help out until he found a new assistant. David was the senior pastor at a large downtown Methodist church. His current admin, Diana, had given her notice and he hated admin work, especially numbers and apportionment filings. So, I agreed to “help out” and ended up staying 5 years.

It was both a wonderful and a horrible experience which changed my outlook on organized “religion” forever. After the aging congregation accepted that I was staying they opened up and I gained 100 sets of grandparents. Every day there was a gift, a baked goodie, a book, a fun joke, lunches, and so many cups of coffee! There was a little gift on my desk every day and a visit from at least 3 or 4 people. I studied and discussed books with John Mackie, talked about fun crafts with the ladies Jean, Betty, Jane, Daphne, swapped silly jokes with Dolores, kept Dr. Jane company via phone calls and laughed more then someone should at work.

The sexton was named Arthur. Arthur was fabulous! His job was to vacuum, empty trash, dust, and move whatever he was asked to move. He helped the ladies with their projects, walked them to their vehicles, and always had a story. Sweet Arthur helped a little old lady shuffle to her ride one day and she referred to him as “Cutie” which made him blush and the nickname stuck from then on. Arthur was tall, a little stout, a black man in his late 30s, simple and very polite. He carried his bible everywhere and studied it on his breaks. He was kind and gentle and worked hard to please people. He had I think 5 sons and an daughter and literally raised them on very little. And Arthur ate….all the time. If it was in the kitchen or on a desk and wasn’t tagged, Arthur ate it. At 8am it wasn’t unusual to see him chewing on a cucumber, eating leftovers, or searching for candy. Arthur was also the favorite target of the haters, a group in the church who felt entitled to rule and do whatever pleased them because they “donated” this or that or established some fund. They constantly whined to the pastor wanting Arthur disciplined for whatever item they had manufactured and most of the time, it was manufactured. He just smiled, apologized, and shook his head and rolled with it. Truth was, Arthur felt pity for these people, they had money, large homes, kids, time, vacation homes, fancy cars and trips and they were hollow, unhappy people so Arthur prayed for them.

Arthur’s largest ally and the most amazing woman in the church was Alice. Alice was tall, wore the tallest heels, always dressed to impressed, dyed her hair platinum blond because old ladies should be grey or blond (her hair was black), and teased her hair into a big helmet. She wore heavy blue eyeshadow because Merle Norman said so and carried a handkerchief. Alice had been the Lay Minister for 30 years and she was full of the most amazing stories.

As a very young girl in Montgomery, Alabama Alice watched WWII Soldiers March through her hometown, she was given a bucket of water and a ladle, and her job was to give soldiers sips of water as they marched by. She grew up dirt poor and had very little, but she did have a mother and father who felt that education was wealth and that even though society said women were to stay home and make babies, she could tell them where to go and become anything and she did.

Alice read, studied, watched, and participated in everything possible. At 17 she was tall, thin, leggy and had long black hair and big eyes. She would walk the downtown area and stare into store windows but rarely went in because she had no money. It was on one of these walks when she decided to go into a jewelry store to admire something up close that she met her love, Rankin. He was 20 years older, kind, funny and handsome and it was love at first sight. He said you are the girl I will marry, and she said, Bud, it isn’t going to be that easy, you’ll have to catch me. They were happily married for many years, having dinner parties, traveling, exploring, and enjoying life. Together they had 3 sons. Rankin also felt that education was wealth and he along with her parents pushed Alice to not only graduate from high school but attend college. By this time, they had migrated to Fayetteville, NC where Alice and Rankin bought a little home and opened a new jewelry store. She was raising babies, attending school, and having the time of her life when one day Rankin “felt bad”. Within days he was in and out of the hospital, wheelchair bound and permanently disabled.

Now a normal person would be devastated. Not Alice, she adopted two stray Siamese kittens, Sissy & Sassy to keep her husband company, hired someone to help, got a part time job, went to school, and focused on taking care of her family. She pushed that man everywhere he wanted to go. Her stories of travel and hardship were the most devoted and inspiring stories I’ve ever heard and her son’s adored her. From fighting to start a chainsaw in high heels to pushing a Lincoln a mile for gas, she was filled with light and positivity.

Once she saw a magnificent spiral staircase in a magazine and had one built inside her home, after finding that she couldn’t carry items up it because of the winding pitch, she had one built outside to the 2nd floor. When she needed a pull-out bed for guests, she took that Lincoln to the furniture store, picked out her sofa bed and demanded delivery. When the clerk told her delivery wasn’t available, Alice in a fit of anger, drug that sofa out of the store, made her boys help her get it on top of the car and drove it home. She drug that sofa bed up that outer flight of stairs one step at a time cussing all the way and shoved it into the guest room and closed the door. Later that evening, the clerk called to apologize for making her angry and told her that she had stormed out before he could tell her he meant delivery wasn’t available that day, but it could be delivered in 2 days. The call made her so mad that she cussed out the sofa and never used it. For 24 years it sat in solitary confinement.

Another fun story, she took her husband and boys to a family trip to Morocco because it was important that children see the world. After saving for years, they went for a month. While there she found two beautiful Moroccan chandeliers that she had to have. They were large, heavy, made of brass and stained glass and they were what she called "a royal pain in my ass". She carried those heavy lights everywhere she went because she was told they were not allowed to ship. It wasn’t that she desperately needed them, it was the challenge of getting them that pushed her. Together they drug them across country, on the airplane, through customs, and balanced them on top of that Lincoln all the way home. Alice was determined to have her lights and a little hardship wasn’t going to stop them. Those lights hung in her house 60 years and were there on the day she decided to sell.

Alice and two friends, Tryon and John worked during the day, studied the bible in the evenings, took care of their families and attended college at night, commuting 2 hours each way. She worked. I mean worked; nothing was neglected. She eventually became the first female school principal in the state of North Carolina, earned a doctorate in education (unheard of for a female back then), raised 3 successful boys, became the Lay Minister of a Methodist Church, led ladies’ groups, financially supported her family, and took care of her beloved husband whose hand she held when he died, all in High Heels.

It was Alice who made my job special. Her stories, her losses, her triumphs, and her quest for greatness. She fought breast cancer twice, had a mastectomy and implants, fought cervical cancer, and had a hysterectomy, fought hip cancer and replaced her hip joints and kept fighting. When someone became ill, Alice made soup. When someone was sad, Alice told them joked until they felt better. When someone lost someone, Alice held their hand. When Arthur’s boys got into trouble, Alice bailed them out of jail, slapped them silly and began making them do chores to teach them lessons. Alice believed in history, documentation, presentation, self-confidence, self-pride and self-sustainability. She did not believe in excuses or laziness.

It was Alice who taught me that once you reach a certain age you mentally live and relate to the time in your life that was the most fulfilling. It becomes your mental world. I’ve learned from being around many seniors that it is indeed true, they all have what I call glory day syndrome.

For Alice, her time was back in the mid 70’s in what she referred to as “the Central Office”. She had progressed from teacher to principal and the Central Office is where everything happened. She was in charge and did her absolute best. Her kids were doing well, her husband was alive, and Sissy & Sassy were home and healthy. She and her two friends were still taking classes and bible study was continuing. Her sentences always began with “in the Central Office, at the Central Office”, etc. Everything related to the Central Office, she refused modern tech but used it when forced. She was graceful, kind, and full of life.

Alice lost parts of her body, her sweet husband, many friends, a man she met decades after her husband’s death that she was in love with. She lost her beloved cats. She continued to study, travel, organize ladies travel groups, led charters to Israel and other holy places, held luncheons, served as a Worthy Grand Matron, and kept volunteering even at the age of 87. She loved her grandkids who called her Oma, loved her church, and loved her pastor. Then he retired.

The business office of a large church is something no one should experience. The congregation part is wonderful, but the business side is oppressive, greedy, and horrible. You would think that church is a place where everyone is kind, considerate, giving, and selfless but it isn’t. Many churches pay what is called apportionment to a conference. This means a chunk of money is given to the main denomination office or founding foundation. It is based on receipts and deposits, a bill that in non-negotiable. This particular church had an operating budget of over 1.5 million per year, so that bill was high. They held stewardship campaigns each year where members pledge and signed agreements to give monthly. You were pushed to force them to give at least 20% of income prior to expenses and taxes regardless of their income status and the new pastor was ruthless. That sweet old lady barely eating, living on social security was pushed to give even though she did not have it. Special attention was given to the lady with “more money than God” and if you missed payments that you pledge, they sent you to collections. Never mind, that this particular church had 17 million dollars in investments, property and a large operating account, more, more, more was constantly preached. This quest for dollars over service changed my outlook on organized religion. I no longer attend mass, I no longer donate to large churches and I no longer believe that all churches are filled with goodness and light although some smaller ones are. My church is in my heart and is in nature. Yes, I believe in the Father, Son and the Holy ghost.

This new “pastor” on his first day called a meeting and had us introduce ourselves one by one. He wanted name, job title, time on job and age and quickly made it very clear that “he was bringing youth to this old congregation”. He even announced to the congregation that old was out and youth was in during his first sermon. During his 1st week, he reduced hours to barely anything to push the youth director, music director, child program director and me the admin to leave. He then hired young girls to fill our positions at a much lower rate per hour. Arthur’s hours were cut in half and Alice was told she was no longer needed that she “had outlived her position” and that “a younger congregation needed younger leaders”. And for the first time in her life, Alice gave up.

The devil disguised as a pastor had killed her spirit and had taken away her feeling of need. Her smile faded and her fierce zest for life stopped. She became quiet, disconnected and was no longer welcome in a church that she had given over 60 years to. She removed her membership and cried in silence. Not long after, she gave in to one of her sons who was pushing her to move in with his family. She sold her beautiful house filled with memories, sold most of her belongings and moved to the beach where she pretended to enjoy her grandkids (they got on her nerves) and pretended to love the beach (she hated sand) and became old. Within 2 years, Alice stopped living and her body was donated to science because education was wealth, and it was a way for Alice to continue to educate even through death.

I think of Alice often. I still admire her strength, her desire to affect others, her desire to own her life and her desire to push people to live well even through trials.

Alice’s favorite bible verse was 1 Timothy 6:12

“Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.”

It basically means that eternal life is not only about living forever in the life to come but about living a victorious life in the here in now, growing in grace an in love. This defined Alice.