Guest Posts on County 10 are provided by contributors and the opinions, thoughts, and comments within are their own and may not necessarily reflect those of County 10.
Some consider life to be a race. Whether it’s a sprint or a marathon depends on choices, intangibles, and many times forces beyond our control.
We like to believe we control our destiny through hard work, education, dedication, and perseverance, but the truth is, our path in life most often comes down to our attitude, and how we treat other people.
My late friend Dorothy Snell epitomized strength in the face of adversity. Her courage, and tenacity, all with a smile and a wry sense of humor were an inspiration to anyone who knew her. It’s hard to even write “Dorothy” since no one called her that name, she was Duzie to those who knew and loved her.
Duzie didn’t get the best draw. After a successful early career, she grew gradually weaker due to the debilitating advance of multiple sclerosis. Duzie became confined to a motorized wheelchair, but that didn’t slow down her free spirit.
One to always let you know her opinion in a humorous way, she was a delight.
Her husband John is a saint. The tough, retired Detroit police officer who moved to Wyoming where he eventually served as Riverton’s Chief of Police was constantly at her side.
John and Duzie came to our house a few times for social events in their specially adapted van.
John would back the van into place, slide open the door, push a few buttons and a metal ramp would extend outwards. Duzie put her wheels into the track and off she flew.
Too many people let a disease define them, losing their identity and potential in the process. Duzie wasn’t one of those.
On the other side, too many outsiders don’t have a clue about how living a “normal life” (whatever that is) can be for a person battling through a disability. Those of us blessed with strong bodies, with only minor setbacks, go through our lives not even noticing the four-inch curb, an angled walkway, or a narrow door. Those simple things present no challenge to us but can be monumental to someone with limited motion.
Duzie didn’t like ice cream, but John did. Sue called and said we’d be out at their place with some ice cream for John. We stopped at McDonalds for John, but I had an idea to trick Duzie.
They enjoyed gin and tonics, with Duzie telling me one day, “I like them better, without the tonic.” Yep, that sometimes had straight gin on the rocks.
We picked up a Mcdonald’s cup and stopped back at the house to mix a gin and tonic in it.
When we arrived at the Snell house, Sue handed John his ice cream, and I handed the drink to Duzie.
“McDonald’s has a new adult section,” I said. “They make “McGins” now, try this one.”
With a raised eyebrow, Duzie suspiciously looked at me, took a sip, and said, “Wow, it is gin.”
She was on the cusp of believing me, but then laughed and said, “We’ll be hitting the drive through more often.”
Duzie was an inspiration, our granddaughters Jayne and Norah loved her, always dropping by to see the “Duze” as they call her each time they came to visit. Duzie was a popular topic in our calls and Facetime sessions with the girls too, they were always asking how the “Duze” was doing.
Seeing people not just survive, but thrive in the face of great adversity is something every child should get a chance to witness. Duzie provided that for our girls.
John is an avid hunter and outdoorsman but taking care of his wife of 28 years always remained his top priority.
When he did have a hunting or fishing trip scheduled, Duzie’s sister often came to stay with her, with friends and neighbors dropping by a bit more often to enjoy her wit and wisdom.
As a teacher, I was always annoyed at how some people treated kids with disabilities. “They’re always so happy,” was the comment that hit my nerves the hardest. No, they’re not happy about their condition, would you be? But they’ve learned to cope, adapt and survive. It’s never easy to deal with a setback that other, mainstream people will most likely never face.
Too often our heroes are athletes or entertainers. They have little relevance to our lives and the lives of our children. The real heroes, the role models worthy of our respect surround us.
The infirmity might be age, it could be a mental challenge or a physical challenge as Duzie so nobly faced.
She was a role model, a hero to many, and a delightful friend to many, many more, all rolled up into one little wry, blond package.
“The Duze” will be missed. Her impact was felt in a wide circle of our community and well beyond with extended family and friends.
It’s not just a case of surviving an ailment, but thriving despite its physical boundaries, and Duzie epitomized that.
I know you’re engaging smile is still shining out there. Thanks for being you Duzie.