Monday, August 17, 1998

Host for widows' dinner continues to duck the limelight

By Bill Whitaker

When it comes to that biblical bit about doing good deeds and expecting no recognition in return, the hosts of this month's "Appreciation Dinner for Widowed Women" are true believers.

Although more than 150 area widow women - of all races, creeds and colors - know just who the hosts of the elaborate Aug. 8 dinner at the Petroleum Club are, the married couple who spearhead this unique event have steadfastly declined any limelight for themselves.

In fact, the 57-year-old Abilenian who came up with the idea declines to even come to the dinner himself, preferring to leave the joy and splendor to his 48-year-old wife, fellow organizers and our area's widowed women, most of them astonished anyone chooses to remember them at all.

"It was one of the most enjoyable things I have ever been to," said former <I>Reporter-News<I> staffer Rebel Jackson, one of the widows honored at this year's dinner, the fourth annual. "Dian Owen gave one of the most inspiring talks I had heard in a long time."

Among those on hand to salute widows - U.S. Rep. Charlie Stenholm, Dr. John Stevens of Abilene Christian University and Taylor County Judge Lee Hamilton. Paul Matta sang and even whistled, while child prodigy Ryan Chalkley played the piano.

"And at each table, for each woman, there was an inscribed pen, soap and candy," Rebel said. "It was a very festive affair."

UPLIFTING MOMENT

And yet, the Abilene couple who remain the driving force behind this annual dinner - they're already planning next year's - continue to refuse all attention. The only way they'd even consent to talk with me was if I'd agree not to print their names.

"As long as I can stay humble and serve God, I don't need the Big Head," the good-humored, former KRBC-TV station crew member said of the dinner he and his wife founded. "All of those things, all of the glory, should go to God. We're nothing without God."

The party's male founder decided to mount the widows' dinner after life took an upturn following some distressing years. A 1959 graduate of Woodson High, he is a black man who struggled to overcome local color barriers facing him years ago.

Quickly tiring of shining shoes, he got a job at early-day KRBC-TV, making 90 cents an hour and initially working but an hour a day, cleaning the breakroom and making coffee. However, he quickly became captivated by what was going on in the studios.

Before long, he was processing and developing film, editing, handling projection duties and working on commercials. For the better part of three decades he was one of the station's regulars, if always behind the scenes. And then, several years ago, life changed for him, reportedly over his health.

"I didn't retire," he sighed, "they retired me."

A period of worsening health and depression set in, only to be broken one day several years ago when, the Friday after Thanksgiving, he resolved to get dressed up in his Sunday best. He went off to the Kiva Inn and there came to the attention of four white gentlemen sitting nearby.

Turned out they were members of the Elmwood West Lions Club who discovered, to their own surprise, there was no club meeting that Friday. So they sat back, enjoyed fellowship on a more intimate scale and, much to the lone man's surprise, invited him to join their circle.

"When Norris Lineweaver called me over and he and the others accepted me, they had no idea how uplifting it was to me," he said. "I guess they thought I was a well-dressed traveling salesman. I was particularly glad they picked up the tab, too.

"I didn't even have enough money in my pocket to pay for my coffee."

CHICKEN AND THEE

After becoming involved with this colorful group of local Lions, the man who had reached the depths of despair began looking for a way to show his thanks for the good fortune visited upon him by the Lord. A few years ago he came upon the idea of mounting a widows' dinner.

"It's something he and his wife feel strongly about," Norris Lineweaver told me. "I'm not sure how he came upon the idea, but the Bible does talk about taking care of widows and children and, well, he had a pretty rough experience growing up."

Besides the host's trying youth - "being shuffled off from one relative to the next," with a widowed grandmother serving as a rare anchor in his life - the party's hostess also had reason to know the hardships people experience, especially widows.

Her oldest brother died in 1988, her father died in 1990, her second oldest brother died in 1991 and her youngest brother died in 1993. All left widows.

"We started out with 22 women at our first widows' dinner, then 40, then about 90 and this year we invited about 180, of which 160 or so came," he said. "We hear about a lot of widows through word of mouth, plus my wife works at Social Security and meets many widows that way."

Although the hostess helped run this year's dinner, the host - who had had to borrow money from the bank just to mount the dinner, aside from that donated by well-meaning friends - chose once again to stay away.

"I went to H-E-B, got me some chicken, came home and had a ball," he told me the other night. "Usually I go to McDonald's and pick me something up during these things, but this year I decided to splurge, so I had me one of those rotisserie chickens.

"And," he added, "I couldn't have been happier if I'd gone myself."

Bill Whitaker, who has been promised an invitation to next August's dinner, can be reached at 676-6732. You can e-mail him at WTWARN@aol.com.