In Memoriam for Elaine

Elaine and I shared a workplace, albeit several decades apart. She started her public broadcasting career at the station where mine ended. She went on to work for New Hampshire Public Television, becoming, at maybe five feet tall on a good day, a powerhouse of the industry.

When we met, she'd retired for the first time and taken a position for one of the vendors that my station used for direct mail. She always had a soft spot for us, the place that gave her her start, and was always eager to come back to help -- with pledge, with fundraising strategy -- if we needed help, Elaine was there. But in addition to having a fund raising savvy that allowed her to serve as a mentor to many, she had a deeply felt kindness.

Our calls about the business of raising money often turned to talks about how I was doing. Her concern was genuine. I had what physicians would consider minor surgery a year after I started there and struggled for weeks beyond weeks to recover any semblance of energy. I woke up drained and went to bed unable to sleep. Elaine -- not the medical professionals -- was the one who told me that general anesthesia circulates for months in one's system -- wreaking havoc on energy levels and sleep/wake cycles. It takes the body a long time to break it down and excrete it. Being given the clearance to return to work 48 hours after surgery doesn't mean one will feel up to it for a long time. She'd been through it herself and she knew exactly what I was going through. She would call me at least once a week ostensibly to talk about the next cycle's mail campaign, but in reality to see how I was doing, and reassure me that my physiological reactions were normal. "Enough about this," she would say after we'd made a decision about one thing or another. "How are you doing?"

Then as the years wore on and the station become a cauldron of toxicity, with the top managers meeting daily to utter their "boil, boil, toil and trouble" incantations, Elaine's concern once again became palpable. She couldn't say anything outright, because she couldn't lose the client for the company she worked for, but it was clear she knew I was increasingly becoming the scapegoat for management failings while in reality my achievements soared. Auction tanking? Blame annual giving for dropping revenue, when in fact, it was at record levels. Because when the director of development and was struggling to meet his goals, while people across the system were singing my praises and inviting me to speak at conferences, he decided if he had my job, he'd rise above his own failings and be able to be the star who saved the station. He indeed stole my credit while I was right there, but it was going to be so much easier if I was gone. He didn't want the glory to go to someone he supervised -- he wanted it for himself.

I knew it and Elaine knew it. The owner of the company she worked for also got his start at our station, and it's likely she'd been hearing rumbles from his conversations with Mr. Toil and Trouble. Again, our business calls became discussions of how I was doing. "Enough about this," she would say. "How are you doing?" She was happy for me when I got out. She knew I was going to a better place. Four months later was the May Day massacre where 25 percent of the station's staff was laid off. I was the last one out before that happened, and my position was never filled. Indeed Mr. Toil and Trouble took on the glory parts of the job and delegated the tedious and technical parts to others.

I can't say much about how we reconnected, but we did, and I was shocked that she was still working. She'd retired several times during my tenure at the public broadcasting station, each time saying she was only going to work part time, but each time ending up back at full time. And then, three years later, when I returned to the industry in a different role, there she was, still consulting with stations and managing their direct mail programs. But she did eventually retire for good. I thought she was going to die at her desk, so I was glad she finally turned in her keys even though it meant the loss of a good friendship.

I just found out that Elaine passed away this summer. It was while I was on the one vacation I managed to get away for since a year ago August and I was largely off grid, so missed any chatter there may have been about it. The world is a greater place for Elaine. Her legacy lives on in the world of public television and the lives it informs and enriches.

As for me, I am forever grateful for her phone calls. "Never mind all that. How are you doing?" Oh, how I could use that now.

"May the All-Merciful One shelter Elaine with the cover of His wings forever, and bind her soul in the bond of life...may she rest in her resting place in peace."