A good friend died a week ago, at the age of 99. As I thought about the connections I had with her over the last 35 years or so, I could hear in my mind's ear how she always answered her phone. "This is Mary."
I first met her when I became an officer in our local P.E.O. chapter. I knew "of" her before that, of course. Everyone in town knew her or something about her. She was a celebrity, after a fashion.
I was really a rookie in P.E.O., having joined some six months before. Mary had been a member nearly 25 years longer than I. She'd just been elected president of our chapter. I'm sure she'd had other opportunities to be president but she had been a busy woman. She told me, "I've decided to stay put for two years and fulfill my obligations." And so it was, somehow, that I found myself dropping by her apartment on a routine basis, taking care of P.E.O. business that related to my office. I don't know if my fellow officers did likewise.
I had two very young children at the time. Mary had no children, had never been married. She had things in her apartment that appealed. Like antique dolls, small rocking chairs, souvenirs from England, a sewing machine. But she did not fuss when my tykes looked at her things. Even though she didn't have very many opportunities to interact with my children after they were in school, she always asked about them by name.
Mary Morton lived in her hometown practically her entire life, as far as I know. She was head of the county ASCS office and my father-in-law worked for her during the winter months for several years. They'd known each other in school and had a good employer-employee relationship. She'd gone to work right out of high school and yet always wanted to go to college. So after she retired from the ASCS office, she enrolled at what is now Brigham Young's Hawaii campus. Her schooling was interrupted for some reason (she was not a student when I first met her) but later she finished up at Marshall, Minnesota.
What was so appealing about Southwest Minnesota State? It was built as a fully accessible campus, right down to wheelchair basketball. There was one other thing about Mary. She contracted polio when she was 8 years old. Braces and crutches became a fact of life. She had such broad shoulders. I don't know if that was a physical trait she was born with or one she acquired because she needed the strength.
Mary drove a white Mercury that seemed enormous to me. She told me once that because she'd never steered anything -- never even ridden a bicycle -- it was tricky learning to drive. She had her car equipped with hand controls and enjoyed the freedom of mobility that all of us appreciate when we're behind the wheel.
She and her siblings were/are people who made a difference. Big brother John was head of medicine and surgery for the University of George College of Veterinary Medicine -- and supplier of huge pecan meats to his kin back home. Sister Jean, who celebrated her 101st birthday four days before Mary died at age 99, taught special education Bob owned the Morton Funeral Home in Rockwell City, Iowa, for years. He and his wife, Gladys, were close to Mary in every good way. Leone was a business owner and taught adult education.
For a century Mary Helen Morton was devoted to her family, her community, her faith. She worked hard and did good works. She sought opportunities for personal growth. She helped provide those opportunities through the award of a scholarship in her name through the local high school. She cared about her lifestyle and took care to have a lovely home.She lived an important, gracious, rich life.
And so I picture St. Peter introducing her to the heavenly host. He gets everyone's attention and says, "This is Mary."
I first met her when I became an officer in our local P.E.O. chapter. I knew "of" her before that, of course. Everyone in town knew her or something about her. She was a celebrity, after a fashion.
I was really a rookie in P.E.O., having joined some six months before. Mary had been a member nearly 25 years longer than I. She'd just been elected president of our chapter. I'm sure she'd had other opportunities to be president but she had been a busy woman. She told me, "I've decided to stay put for two years and fulfill my obligations." And so it was, somehow, that I found myself dropping by her apartment on a routine basis, taking care of P.E.O. business that related to my office. I don't know if my fellow officers did likewise.
I had two very young children at the time. Mary had no children, had never been married. She had things in her apartment that appealed. Like antique dolls, small rocking chairs, souvenirs from England, a sewing machine. But she did not fuss when my tykes looked at her things. Even though she didn't have very many opportunities to interact with my children after they were in school, she always asked about them by name.
Mary Morton lived in her hometown practically her entire life, as far as I know. She was head of the county ASCS office and my father-in-law worked for her during the winter months for several years. They'd known each other in school and had a good employer-employee relationship. She'd gone to work right out of high school and yet always wanted to go to college. So after she retired from the ASCS office, she enrolled at what is now Brigham Young's Hawaii campus. Her schooling was interrupted for some reason (she was not a student when I first met her) but later she finished up at Marshall, Minnesota.
What was so appealing about Southwest Minnesota State? It was built as a fully accessible campus, right down to wheelchair basketball. There was one other thing about Mary. She contracted polio when she was 8 years old. Braces and crutches became a fact of life. She had such broad shoulders. I don't know if that was a physical trait she was born with or one she acquired because she needed the strength.
Mary drove a white Mercury that seemed enormous to me. She told me once that because she'd never steered anything -- never even ridden a bicycle -- it was tricky learning to drive. She had her car equipped with hand controls and enjoyed the freedom of mobility that all of us appreciate when we're behind the wheel.
She and her siblings were/are people who made a difference. Big brother John was head of medicine and surgery for the University of George College of Veterinary Medicine -- and supplier of huge pecan meats to his kin back home. Sister Jean, who celebrated her 101st birthday four days before Mary died at age 99, taught special education Bob owned the Morton Funeral Home in Rockwell City, Iowa, for years. He and his wife, Gladys, were close to Mary in every good way. Leone was a business owner and taught adult education.
For a century Mary Helen Morton was devoted to her family, her community, her faith. She worked hard and did good works. She sought opportunities for personal growth. She helped provide those opportunities through the award of a scholarship in her name through the local high school. She cared about her lifestyle and took care to have a lovely home.She lived an important, gracious, rich life.
And so I picture St. Peter introducing her to the heavenly host. He gets everyone's attention and says, "This is Mary."