I could have entitled this article some Betty Sugg stories.
Working for the Government
I worked for the Arkansas Department of Health (ADH) for around six and half years stationed at the local health unit – most folks simply called it the County Health Department – in Crawford County, Arkansas. Crawford County is just across the Arkansas River from Ft. Smith and part of the county shares a border with Oklahoma. I was County Sanitarian, aka Health Inspector, the whole time I was there. Yeah, I inspected restaurants, but the duties of a County Sanitarian are much broader than that.
With the retirement of the other sanitarian, about a year and a half into my stint, I became Administrator of the local health unit. The ADH used a matrix system of management, one supervisor for your professional duties, and a different supervisor for your administrative responsibilities. Essentially I was the office manager supervising administratively the nursing, clerical, sanitarian staff and other folks who traveled around to the various local health units.
A Co-worker
In an earlier article I made a passing reference to Italian cream cheese cake. This started my musings on a former co-worker, Betty Sugg, who was one of the clerks working with me at the local health unit of the ADH. I was in my early 30s at that point of my life, and Betty seemed exceedingly ancient. She was probably in her late 60s at that time, widowed, but still very active. She was diminutive with her hair completely gray. I do not believe she passed the five foot mark and she was definitely south of 100 pounds. I found her size amusing as I knew her son who was about my height and probably outweighed me by 30 or 40 pounds. Of course, I was about 17.2 pounds lighter then than I am now. Imagining that very big man whose provenance was this very petite woman was entertaining.
Baker Betty
Betty loved to bake, which she did frequently, but she never ate her own creations. She either gave them away, or she brought them to the office. She kept track of everyone’s birthday and always brought in a cake to help celebrate. One time she brought in what I came to think of as her specialty, an Italian cream cheese cake. Apparently, I raved about it to such a degree that every April after that she brought one into the office for my birthday. They were so very good that I almost came to look forward to the passing of another year.
Not in the Budget
The ADH frequently had budget problems as it was underfunded in many ways, plus Arkansas is one of the poorer states of these here United. More than once we were told that the ADH had no money to pay travel. Since my duties as Sanitarian involved driving my own vehicle to various places around the county, I just stayed in the office. I suppose if I have been more civic minded I would have just donated the mileage.
The office lacked sufficient filing cabinets, and I had been trying for a while to get the ADH to buy us some more with little luck. So I took a picture of Ms. Sugg. Here was this Lilliputian, gray haired, elderly woman sitting on the floor of our office filing medical records into cardboard file boxes. I received several new file cabinets shortly thereafter.
Moi?
I tend to think of Betty as of a bit of a saint, God rest her soul, but she had just a wee bit of a mean streak. When I first started at the ADH, my wife at that period of my life was the manager of a residential foster care program with most of the children housed there being teenagers. Every so often (once a year?) all the staff at these type of institutions in Arkansas had to receive health certification from the ADH, including that they were free of STDs, now called STIs. I have no explanation for why that particular certification except that it was.
One morning I came into the office and Betty came bouncing towards me and shoved a piece of paper as close as her pint-sized frame would allow into my face. All I could see was the word syphilis in a large, bold font with my wife’s name in a box below it. I am not sure what expression appeared on my face, probably a mixture of horror and embarrassment, but whatever it was caused Betty to break out into a loud, belly laugh. Clearly, she should not have been sharing confidential medical information with me, but in retrospect it was the type of practical joke I might have pulled on someone. Now I find it amusing and a good story.
Recipe Time
Betty Sugg, one of the more cherished persons that have crossed the path of my life. Speaking of words that rhyme with life, I about have my wife, Señora, convinced that she needs to make me an Italian cream cheese cake. We just need to find a good recipe.
And so it goes.