I’m travelling in my mind back to Arizona again. Years ago, I was considering converting my home into an assisted living facility. In order to do so I needed an Assisted Living Supervisor certificate to obtain a license and had to go through the process which was to actually be inside an assisted living facility. The home I selected to acquire my license was a massive, beautiful home in Suprise not far from my home in Glendale a 3,600 square foot ranch style house with a diving pool and two separate guest houses. There was an upstairs coach house over the separate garage suitable for a live-in caregiver. A perfect home for an assisted living establishment.
One of the residents at the assisted living home was colorful Charlie Rainwater, a widower 96 years old who had written an inspirational novel about his amazing life. Charlie had been raised in Texas. He was a pilot born into poverty. At some point in his life, Charlie decided to relocate to Alaska and become a homesteader. In those days, they were giving away massive amounts of land in various parts of Alaska to industrious people with their own plans of how to develop the land. Charlie, at the time had a wife and no children when he moved to Alaska. He started from scratch and became a successful cattle rancher and horseman. What a life he made. I asked him a lot of questions including how did you keep the grizzlies away from the cattle and yourselves? Cattle is good eating for grizzlies and they’re hungry bears. He said he enclosed the cattle often and kept a rifle close.
In his book there were amazing photos of his land and all the animals he acquired. One photo I recall vividly was of his wife hanging fish on a clothesline type apparatus. She was hanging these massive Salmon and other kinds of fish smiling while holding a Salmon. These two were not outdoorsmen when they came to Alaska. They became outdoorsmen by hands-on learning and developing the skills necessary to do so. What a guy, Charlie Rainwater was. He was so interesting; a sensational person to get to know. I told him I’m going to steal him from the Assisted Living where he was and take him with me. He was a lot like me. Adventurous. I can pick up at any minute and move across the world and set up as though I was always there. Charlie was always at his computer. He was having trouble with his eyes but continued to take in as much information about his interests and to write about it all. We discussed my feeling about Alaska when I travelled through the Kenai Peninsula and from Anchorage to Fairbanks. I was so scared of bears the night we camped out by the ocean I slept in the car while my husband and daughter slept in a tent. I had seen the movie “Grizzly Man” and wasn’t taking any chances. I told Charlie I preferred Montana where I had a place because there were better views of the mountains and lots of open space, whereas Alaska is all trees and completely primitive without views except through Denali National Park. Even the cities annoyed me with the restaurant windows never cleaned. It cost a fortune to go see Alaska and we couldn’t see out of the windows. We couldn’t see anything out of most of them they were so filthy and I’m all about the view when I travel.
At Charlies establishment there was a Greek American caregiver who could not get me to stop cracking up. She was such a nut. All day long and at every opportunity she proclaimed she was going to “kick this guy’s ass or kiss that guy’s ass.” She’d be bathing this large black woman who was really demanding of her. She could barely get her in the tub. She’d get so frustrated with the old lady she’d start speaking in Greek. Her personality was such a hoot, I hated going home.
Which reminds me of Mr. Twittle at Lake Shore Nursing Home in Chicago I worked at when I was 19. Talk about a hoot. Mr. Twittle was in his 90’s and had a room on the top floor east side of the nursing home overlooking Sheridan Road. Mr. Twittle would tell me the funniest stories about his life. He would go on and on about how Sheridan Road wasn’t even there when he was a boy and how it was just a dirt road full of horse and buggies travelling up and down and into the Loop in Chicago downtown. Mr. Twittle was the first buyer for the downtown Marshall Fields in Chicago and he’d go on about the biggest thing selling in his day were hats. Men’s hats and ladies big, bold hats were going out the door in hat boxes all day long in mass. I’d hear all about it. Not far from Mr. Twittle’s room was Mrs. Simon who was suffering from Alzheimer’s disease and would scream, “Anne Anne Anne Anne,” all day and night and drive the entire staff and residents bonkers. “Go in there and make her stop Anne,” they would complain. I had a lot of work to do as a nurse’s aide. Mrs. Simon would make me feel guilty not attending to her when I was busy with her constantly calling out for me. She loved me so much and wanted me to sit with her. When I would go to her side by the bed, I would say, “I’m thinking about you, you know,” and hold her hand for a few minutes. People from Chicago say you know a lot at the end of sentences, you know? Mrs. Simon would absolutely gleam in my eyes when I stood by her bed. I would fluff up her pillow and adjust her bed to make sure she was comfortable. She was bedridden and I made sure she was drinking enough water too, you know? As soon as I left her room, there she’d blow, “Anne Anne Anne,” you know?
I have been considerably blessed to have known so many remarkable people I’ll never forget.