Not Your Typical Fundraiser (continued) -- Day 10 of 25 Memories -- A Countdown to Our 25th Anniversary Gala by Dorothy Gibbons

The hall was too large to have a real auction but we always gave it a try. No one could hear, the sound system was great for bands, bad for auctioneers, but people would raise their hands and someone would capture the prize.  We’ve auctioned off anything and everything -- Linda and Dick of Kerr’s Wholesale donated rooms full of furniture; my cousin Chris made and donated a 6 ft. wooden glider; the year Dixie was unattached, we auctioned off a dinner and date with her.    
For about eight years running $1 raffle items were a chance to win Nona Morrison’s hand- made quilts or T-Bud’s hand-crafted fly fishing pole. The big raffle items changed every year.  The only one to really compete with the boat from that first year was the gorgeous walnut colored Winchester Grandfather Clock standing 8 feet tall and fully chimed. Another member of our support group did all the construction, stained and hand-finished it.  He worked on the project for four months for a few hours every day after he got off work.  He used it to fill up time after he lost his wife.  They had been part of our support group for about two years.

About a third of the folks that bought tickets for the event also donated some kind of dessert.  Ten tables were lined with slices of homemade cakes and pies, and bags of cookies.  Then the same folks would turn around and pay a dollar extra for dessert.

Throughout the day, our official money changer Helen would make the rounds picking up raffle money, cake walk money, and money from the door, and then disappear into the back room to deposit in the lodge’s floor safe.  Those piles of dollars would take a long time to count at the end of the day … or at least we always hoped that it would.

Traditions get started at events like this and one of them was that Dixie always served as the official greeter.  Her patients loved talking to Dixie and Dixie loved talking to them. She often said that that was the best part of her job. “What other work would let me spend the day getting to gossip and visit with people?” she’d say. “I love hearing about my patients, what they’re doing, what’s happening in their lives. It doesn’t even feel like work.”

I suspect her patients accounted for about half of the folks who attended. The other half was divided between folks from my church, employees, volunteers and their families, most of the operating room staff from the hospital plus a passel of cowboys and cowgirls who often went on trail rides with Dixie.

Looking out over the crowd was like looking into the face of The Rose. You’d see some people wearing their Sunday finest, others in jeans and cowboy hats, a bunch were in t-shirts and shorts, and there’d be couple of priestly collars sprinkled in.  I would spot one of our sponsored women bringing in a cake and see another standing next to the bank president behind the serving line.  They were both dishing up the shrimp, both there to help.

Like I said … the Shrimp Boils were always a community affair.

That first year was a $10,000 success. The figure has steadily grown over the years, with our latest Shrimp Boils bringing in more than $100,000 annually. And they still wouldn’t be possible without priceless donations of time and energy from our staff and volunteers.

I remember ending that first event thinking that we never would have made it without the bearded man and his beautiful wife. Jim continued to “captain” the shrimp boil for the next ten years, taking on even more serious jobs along the way, like serving on the Board.

I never told Jim or Marsha about my dream.  They’d understand, though. They are part of those special people who know we don’t do this alone.  The Rose has had a lot of help, visible and invisible -- boxes of books sent by unknown benefactors, the unexpected gift, the members of Congress who’ve fought for us, and more.  Call it God or the Universe, receiving a rose from St. Teresa or finding a penny from Regina’s mother, there seems to be some other force at work.

Dixie often says, especially during our times of crisis, “I know God has a plan for us, I just wish He’d let me in on it!”

When people ask if we are faith-based, I respond, “Heck, yes we are.”  It takes a lot of faith to keep The Rose going.

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.