Dixie rarely had the desire to go to evening meetings, especially if they were in Houston.
“I’ve lived all over the United States and in some foreign countries, I’ve done all the traveling I want to do.” She’d retort when I would try and convince her that driving from Pasadena to Houston wasn’t exactly like driving to the next state.
So I was really surprised when she called me all excited about attending a Monday night Texas Executive Women’s meeting. Seems she had discovered that Carolyn Farb was going to be the guest speaker, and Dixie was determined to meet this lady.
“Something tells me she could be important to The Rose,” She said. All the way over to the meeting she kept affirming that we’d get to meet Carolyn. Dixie believed in affirmations.
“If I can just get two minutes with her,” Dixie spoke her desire aloud and her enthusiasm was contagious. “I know I can convince her. She just needs to hear about what we are doing. She’ll be excited about helping us.”
In 1988, we sure needed someone to be excited about helping us. The first Rose Center had opened but all our big dreams seemed light years away. The landlord had booted us out of the first “free” space and begrudgingly shuffled us into another. My time was gobbled up between work at the hospital and the administrative stuff like payroll, reconciling bank statements and publicity for the Center. I was also fielding the day-to-day questions and occasional crisis of finding a new tech or machines breaking down. Spare time was non-existent and writing grants was hit or miss. Everyday was a struggle.
The final straw came when we were forced to move once again and finally signed a formal lease. Now we had a five-year commitment hanging over our heads.
We needed a champion -- someone who could help us with fundraising, someone who had connections … someone like Carolyn Farb. Her name appeared regularly in the society pages and any charity event listing her as chair was a guaranteed success.
So we showed up at the meeting and the TEW members made a big fuss over Dixie, introducing her to the crowd as one of their first Women on the Move.
We were sitting in the front row as Carolyn gave her talk, full of the dos and don’ts for fund raising. Her style and delivery exuded pure confidence. When she did make eye contact it was deliberate and focused. Her words were concise and to the point. Her gleaming white designer suit wrapped perfectly around her petite, slender frame and set off her long blond hair. Occasionally she would use her hands to accent points in her talk, but for the most part her gestures appeared controlled and small.
When she finished, the meeting was officially closed but folks continued to mingle. Dixie was primed. We waited until the waters of people parted from around Carolyn. I gave Dixie a little push. Suddenly Dixie was face to face with her, towering over Carolyn, Dixie’s high heels making her even taller.
I held my breath watching as Dixie launched into her spiel. She truly was going full speed ahead at this point. No breaths and nonstop.
“Hi, I’m Dixie Melillo and that was a wonderful speech. Everything you said about raising money is exactly what we needed to hear. We’ve started the Rose, Dorothy and I,” she motioned at me, “It’s a non-profit, and we’re providing free mammograms to women who don’t have insurance. You cannot imagine how many women there are who need help. Breast cancer is a big issue and women just can’t afford mammograms. We sure could us your help. We just need some guidance about what we should do next.”
At that point, Carolyn glanced over her left shoulder and then … turned and walked away. She never changed the expression on her face, never acknowledged Dixie, never said a word.
Dixie stood silently with her mouth open. I was equally shocked. Several of the women were starting to gather around us, and soon Dixie regained her composure and became her usual friendly self. Before long we were making our way down the road for that long journey back to her office in Pasadena. It was late; we were tired. We didn’t talk much. An oddity for us
Two years later, Dixie got a call at her office.
“Dixie,” the voice had a cultured quality to it and there was no mistaking that Carolyn Farb was on the line. “I’ve been thinking about what we were talking about and I want you to meet the Cancer Fighters. They’ve received a special bequest from a member’s estate, and I think there could be an interest in The Rose.”
Carolyn paused, and then continued, “I don’t have time to talk now. I just wanted to give you a quick call and see if you’d check your calendar. When would be a good time for you? I want to set up a meeting between you and their president.”
So began our relationship with Carolyn that would ultimately span over the next decade and include a dozen different types of encounters and events.
We’ve learned that the universe seems to have its own time schedule. We keep reminding each other that some things aren’t meant to be, and we just have to be patient.
Fortunately, meeting with the Cancer Fighters was one of those “meant to be things.” Joan Gordon, a founding member of the group, had left $10,000 in her will for a special and meaningful project. The Board and members were researching options on where the money could do the most good when Dr. D. Jane Taylor and Carolyn Farb came to them with a suggestion: The Rose.
They met. They talked. They voted.
Soon an empty shell in a strip shopping center had carpet, drapes, chairs, medical equipment, office furnishings and supplies and The Rose’s Joan Gordon Center was a reality.
Linda Strevell was the President of the Cancer Fighters at that time and orchestrated many events for us, helped raised money, and served as an office volunteer. Linda recently shared memories of those early days:
I was at the front desk one afternoon when a young mother came through the door with her two children. She settled them in the reception area and with a concerned look on her face came to the counter. Several months earlier she had found a lump in her breast and, with very little money to spend, went to see a doctor. He told her to “watch” the lump and come back to see him in six months. After hearing about The Rose and its mission from a friend, she came to the Joan Gordon location.
This woman was very upset, stressed out over her situation and worried that she had breast cancer. When she completed her story, I simply told her, “If your doctor had a lump on his penis you could be sure that he would not ‘watch it’ for six months. With “Director Dorothy” screeching in the background, I was undeterred.
I was subsequently moved to the back office area where my tongue was held in check. After a while, I was once again allowed to serve at the Front Desk.
One day a gentleman came in with his wife, she filled out a form and was taken into the screening area. I looked over at him and he smiled and told me that his wife was very hungry, but he had informed her that she could not eat prior to a mammogram.
On the way to the appointment they stopped for fast food and he said as soon as she came out he had the sack right there for her. I couldn’t help but think, “Ahhh…True Love.”
Eventually, we moved from Stella Link to Bissonnet and now have a beautiful facility on the third floor of the Foundation Surgical Hospital near I59 and I610. When giving tours there, I tell the story of Joan Gordon and the Cancer Fighters. And I say another silent “thank you” to Carolyn Farb.
This memory is one of 25 short stories written by Dorothy Gibbons, the Co-founder and CEO of The Rose, a nonprofit breast cancer organization. She and Dr. Dixie Melillo received the 501C3 documents for The Rose in 1986. A memory will be shared daily, culminating with number 25 on the day The Rose celebrates its 25th anniversary November 10.
© 2011 Dorothy Gibbons. All rights reserved.
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