Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Earned her rest

Lois Neuman died last week. She was 77 years old. Hundreds of people knew Lois, yet she passed quietly, pretty much unnoticed. Elaine Severe, the administrative aide at the Health Department, was the first to tell me of her death, after spotting the one-line obituary in the newspaper.

I first met Lois in the 1970's. Lois liked police officers, and ran up to any she saw (unless it was someone who had made her mad recently), usually at the most awkward moment. She was on hand for traffic crashes, street brawls, traffic stops, and every special event imaginable. Lois was, well, a character--one hard to describe. She had both an endearing and annoying habit of blurting out whatever she wished to say to you, no matter how inappropriate the setting. She was at the same time street-savvy but child-like.

And despite the fact that she was totally self-powered, she was fast: very, very fast. The speed with which she moved earned her the nickname Road Runner among the police force. You'd be at a collision at 27th and O Street, and Lois would be hollering at you to come over to the corner, where she had some trinket Chief Leitner had given her that she wanted to show you. Five minutes later, you'd be helping to cuff up a panhandler at 9th and Q, and Lois would be there, too. She ran or biked around downtown and the near south faster than a police cruiser could drive. In later years, she used a walker, but still managed to be at five different events where you would encounter her on the same day.

One Saturday, Tonja and I had taken our grandson to see the State Capital. We were on the 14th floor in the Memorial Chamber, when the elevator doors opened, and out popped Lois. She had to show us the project she was crocheting, and of course we had to introduce her to our grandson. On occasion, I had to admonish Lois when her antics were causing a bit of a disruption or problem. I found her one evening in the early 1980s, sitting on a curb at 16th and K Street in tears. I had said something mean to her earlier in the shift at another location that had hurt her feelings. I felt about a half-inch tall.

For the past twenty years or so, I've been on the lookout for little lapel pins that I could often pickup at conferences or meetings. Lois loved these, and I always felt a little bad when she would stop to see me and I was tapped out for the moment. She was a giver, and was constantly creating law enforcement-themed crafts for her friends. Yesterday morning, as we were reminiscing about Lois with the reporters at the daily press briefing, Sheriff Terry Wagner disappeared for a moment, and returned from his office with a typical example: a crocheted clock, in the classic style of Lois Neuman. She must have made scores of these over the years.

Lois loved police officers, firefighters, public officials, and their assistants. She may have died without family, but in a sense, we were her family. Her guardian sent me an email about her passing, with this excerpt:
"As you know, the only true family Lois had is the one she created on her own with public officials, their staff and the people she came in contact with who would take time to be her friend. The last story she told me about an officer was when she was still in her apartment and there was a fire above her. An officer came in, wrapped her in a blanket and put her in his cruiser to keep her warm until she could be placed somewhere overnight. I am going through her belongings, and the mementos from LPD are countless. I am sure it is no surprise to you." 
I will miss Lois. She could be cantankerous from time to time, but that was the exception. She managed on her own for decades as best she could, facing obstacles that I can only imagine. At the heart, she was a gentle soul, and has earned her rest. There will be a memorial for her in the Chapel at Tabitha, 4720 Randolph, at 4:00 PM on January 6th.


14 comments:

Tom Casady said...

This is an email I received from Sgt. Jeri Roeder:

"Lois and I became friends when I worked what we then called the welfare office off duty. Many years ago when I lived on top of the Shopko at 27th and Hwy 2 for a week before Christmas for Special Olympics, Lois rode the bus in a blizzard to see me. All of my food and stuff was sent up in a milk crate tied to a rope. Lois wanted the crate sent down so she could send something up to me. When it arrived on the roof and I opened the box, there was a tiny little angel made out of the plastic and yarn she was so famous for. I pinned her to my coat and wore it that entire week that I was on the roof. Every Christmas since then, I have taken the little angel out of her box and thought of Lois when I put it on my Christmas tree. Ironic that she should pass away just a few weeks after I put her angel on my tree this year. She really was a kind lady. The end of an era."

K. Kolb #8331 said...

I knew Lois from working Security at the State Capitol. You summed it up well "Lois was a character."

R.i.P. Lois, we will carry on the watch.

Jim said...

In 1975 to 1981 my wife and I owned a small neighborhood grocery store (Atkins Corner Market) on 18th & K street. Lois lived in the neighborhood and was one of our customers.

I crossed paths many many times with Lois for the last 38 years. She would always "holler" at me from where ever she was and then we would sit and visit and catch up on things.

One year at the State Fair she wanted me to take her picture with "Oscar the Robot" which I did and sent her a copy. After that when we would cross paths she would always comment on the photo and how much she like it.

Lois is one of those "characters" everyone should have and know. She will be missed. R.I.P. Lois…..

Jim Atkins

Jim said...

In 1975 to 1981 my wife and I owned a small neighborhood grocery store (Atkins Corner Market) on 18th & K street. Lois lived in the neighborhood and was one of our customers.

I crossed paths many many times with Lois for the last 38 years. She would always "holler" at me from where ever she was and then we would sit and visit and catch up on things.

One year at the State Fair she wanted me to take her picture with "Oscar the Robot" which I did and sent her a copy. After that when we would cross paths she would always comment on the photo and how much she like it.

Lois is one of those "characters" everyone should have and know. She will be missed. R.I.P. Lois…..

Jim Atkins

Margaret said...

Such a sweet story for the Christmas Season! I hope she knew how many people cared. RIP Lois !

Steve said...

I"m surprised that I never heard of Lois, given the nature of her life and presence in the city all these years. I am reminded of another lady. I can't recall for sure, but I think everyone called her Mary, or Hello Mary, or something of that nature. From the description of Lois, I would guess that she and Mary had many of the same attributes.

It's sad to lose a person who was so well known, and so good to have around, even if they were a bit abrasive at times.

Tammy said...

Director Casady, thank you for your wonderful tribute to Lois and letting others know about her memorial service. Indeed, she did earn her rest. To Jim: I found the photo of Lois and "Oscar the Robot" you took of her at the State Fair while going through her belongings just last evening. I'm so glad to have learned the story behind this amazing photo! LPD embraced Lois in a way many of us could not. Lois would be so happy to know she has not been forgotten. RIP our mighty, fearless and feisty Lois. Thanks to you all. Tammy.

Tammy said...

Thank you for your wonderful tribute to Lois. Indeed, she earned her rest. To Jim, I found the photo you took of Lois with the "Oscar the Robot" just last night when sorting through some of her belongs. I am so grateful to learn of the story behind the photo. LPD embraced Lois in a way many of us could not. She would be so happy to know she has not been forgotten. Thanks to everyone at LPD for all that you did to make her life brighter and her world a better place. Tammy.

Lnelson351 said...

In 1986, I was irritating the hell out of motorists who violated the pedestrian crosswalk at 17th and J streets. Since it was only a block from Lois' apartment, she made her presence part of her afternoon plans every day. I would walk across 17th and if a driver failed to yield to me, I would stop them and usually write a warning. Lois saw that I was having fun with it so she started taking over as the pedestrian... EVERY DAY, I had to instruct her to be an observer, not a player...PLEASE... LOIS!
I finally had to tell her that I was going to change locations so she wouldn't be at risk... sure enough...at 27th and F street, same deal. Like Tom said, she loved pins and any other thing that made her feel included.
Lois did have the sense to realize when events she happened on had become serious. She would come by me and say..."'I should go now" and poof, she was gone.
I always wondered what ever happened to her? Sorry to her of her passing... 351

Steve Phillips said...

Thanks Boss for such a nice right up on Lois. I became friends with her when I worked over at Eastern. I have an Eastern Ambulance clock and a Rural/Metro one she made me. She always came to see me when I worked out at the State Fair and she would always bring me those yardstick long sticks of Bubblegum to take home to my kids. As she got older she got more afraid of things and would often call 911 when what she thought were funky things going on at her apartment building or sometimes just to talk. There are a few of the "regulars" that I'll miss when they're gone, but Lois will always be on the top of my list. She's been such a fixture with me over the years I could hardly believe it when I heard she was gone.

Tom Casady said...

351,

I clearly recall your scorched-earth campaign against FYROW PED on 17th Street. I was in IA. ;)

Anonymous said...

This is a beautiful story. I'm so impressed with the kind comments that everyone wrote about a unique lady that most of us will, sadly, never have the opportunity to know.

Anonymous said...

Lois was a witness/victim on an indecent exposure case that another officer and I worked. When we caught up to the bad guy, he tried to claim that he was just urinating. Lois would have none of it. She yelled at us, 'Oh no he wasn't! He was shaking it at me, he was!' I still chuckle about that line.

Rex Walton said...

Tom - you should contact the JS about an article about Lois - I remember here from her visits to the downtown Post Office - where I worked the stamp collector's windoe for years --