Remembering the Light and Life of Virginia P. Gilmore

Yesterday, Bryan, Texas, lost a quiet but devoted ambassador of music, life, and a person who was cherished by her friends. Virginia Gilmore passed away a year and one month to the day that the light of her life, Eddie Gilmore, had crossed over to heaven. It’s hard to accept that she’s gone, as she was an extremely young 80 years old, but it also seemed not long enough. Her friends offered that Eddie needed her “there” more than others wanted her “here.”

Make no mistake. Virginia was not the kind of person you’d get to know quickly. She just wasn’t that way. She found her own way and time to reach out to you, and she was cautious before committing her friendship. But when she did, it was solid as a rock, and it was meant for a lifetime. If you consider all the people who knew her well, the average person in Bryan would have been her friend for at least 40 years. She loved a pillow in one of her friends’ homes that said, “Old friends are the best friends,” because that’s how she saw things.

When Eddie and Virginia met, they were both working at Rauscher Pierce and Refsnes, Inc. in Dallas, then arguably the largest brokerage firm in Texas. Eddie was Senior Vice President of the firm and on the board of the National Securities Clearing Corporation. He had a virtually photographic memory, for stocks and for statistics, and Virginia had a mind that met his and kept him interested and beyond. They were best friends and they both had great senses of humor, plus they had even more in common.

When they married on Sept. 3, 1971, Virginia was 33 and Eddie was 36. Both of them were old enough to know what they did and didn’t want in life, and together they built a life that they both could look back on and say, “I wouldn’t have scripted it any other way.” It’s been said that we live in a vacuum sometimes when we think we are able to control anything that happens in life.

We can make all the plans we want and then life happens. So, it’s fair to say that there were good and bad times in both their lives, but their time together was golden. There were no children, but they shared a love for Virginia’s dogs through the years, and their real family was made up of their lifetime friends with whom they shared the best of times together and when times were tough, they were right there for one another, without question. The chances I had to see that in action were voluminous, but they’re private, and will remain that way.

One of the things that struck me most about Virginia was how deeply she felt about the people in her life that she cared about, but she was short on words verbally. She showed it in her longtime loyalty to them. Though they had no children of their own, dear friends shared their time with their children, their children’s spouses, and their grandchildren to the point that they never felt childless. Both Virginia and Eddie adored their adoptive family, who grew up hearing her addressed as “Shorty.” It’s true Virginia was short compared to Eddie, but so was most of the room in any gathering. Not just everyone could call her that, but she smiled and rather beamed when she was addressed that way.

While her mom was alive, Virginia was a wonderful daughter and caretaker who was able to care for her mother without making her feel like she was being looked after. Losing her mom was quite a blow to Virginia but she absorbed the grief and just kept going. She hated going to funerals and it took everything she had to attend services for her mother, but she so loved her mother and those ladies of the church who loved her, that no one else knew how absolutely devastating it was for her to say goodbye—publicly.

Virginia was a private person by nature, but she knew almost everyone in town and managed to sustain many friendships of longstanding and was good about checking on people by phone. She maintained a childhood friendship with her best friend from at least high school days and that says a lot. She remembered others’ birthdays and was a sentimental creature. Her birthday was easy to remember, October 4th, which she giggled and said, “It’s 10-4!” and you always remembered that day ever after. Her feelings ran deep but she played her cards close.

Her career was vast and varied and included a wonderful time shopping at the Dallas Fashion Mart with a dear friend for the friend’s exclusive clothing boutique in Bryan “back in the day,” as they say. Ultimately, she cofounded an independent office supply business in Bryan with another dear friend, and she was actually scheduled to go in to work (she and her business partner rotating taking every “other” Friday off) on the day she passed away. You know she just hated to miss that day of work.

Just as Virginia knew how to work, she knew how to play too, and her favorite pastime was music, live music, and dancing to live music, any or all of those choices, thank you very much. They went to many of the early OPAS Galas, the earliest of the American Heart Association’s first Heart Rock Café event with the "Back to the 50s" theme (Note: Virginia brought her favorite picture of Elvis), Junior League galas and more. They loved supporting The Boys & Girls Club of Bryan with heartfelt devotion.

Eddie and Virginia on the dance floor were clearly the most fun dancers to watch; everyone always thought of them that way. Virtually all their close friends were avid and accomplished dancers, though. It didn't matter whether it was country-western music, rock 'n roll, jitterbug, swing, you name it! And so many of their years together were dear couples’ friends together enjoying trips all over the country. Reminiscing over the early days of their young lives together was often a part of the good times. Shared vacations, trips to see the changing of the leaves, many visits to the best in California’s wine country and more filled their dockets.

Beloved lifetime friends in Bryan were so devoted to Virginia, particularly during Eddie’s final days and for the thirteen months after his passing. She grieved privately for Eddie, but you couldn’t ask for more loving, caring friends to see to her every need. Just a month ago, two precious friends had made plans well in advance and spent “Eddie’s Day” with her and you know that had to be one of the sweetest gifts she’d ever received in her life.

Times just spent with people she loved were her favorite, favored days. She could appreciate the perfection of a Nehi Grape soda and looked around for weeks until she found a four-pack to gift a friend with because, in their early days together, they’d enjoyed them together. She enjoyed visiting small out-of-the-way shops and finding anything that was unique. She and Eddie were good about exploring restaurants and they were always telling you about the newest places to go, because they’d been among the first to try them out.

They loved being able to live most of their final years in a dream home they custom built on a magnificent golf estates location, but home is where the heart is, and when Eddie could no longer live independently at home, Virginia didn’t hesitate for a moment in leaving that behind, and she wisely chose a location literally two minutes away from two of her dearest friends of the heart. It’s the gifts of time and thoughtfulness that Virginia gave to others and received from them that will most be remembered.

Learning from two precious people today of her passing and knowing her absolute disdain at, and refusal to, being lifted up by name in a public notice of having transitioned to her heavenly reward, I risk her wrath at even writing a word about her, but somehow right now, I just don’t care. If I’m fortunate enough to one day make it to where she is now, with her Eddie, she can read me the riot act then.

But after the tears had dried, what made me smile was the thought of how she loved Elvis, his music, and the Mississippi Blues so very much. Among her favorite songs of all time, though, wasn’t really one of Elvis’s songs. It was by electric blues man, Jimmy Reed. Wherever they were out dancing to live music, or if there was a jukebox in the corner, Eddie Gilmore never failed to make sure that his Virginia heard her favorite song: “Big Boss Man.”

So, as the sun went down tonight on the first day without Virginia in it, I’m reminded that life is short, that the age of 80 is a long and good life to reach, and that the world can turn against you, the planets of Mars and Mercury can turn retrograde and turn your world of calm into a celestial hurricane, and nothing is going as you once thought it would.

But when you have friends, good friends who love you and care for, and about you, throughout the worst days of your life, who are front and center with you to celebrate the best days of your life, and you have faith in the higher power who gave life and the promise of life beyond this one to all, then you have everything in life that you could ever ask for. And all is truly right with the world.

For all those fortunate enough to know her, for however long or however well, Virginia Gilmore’s life meant knowing a truly good person with a heart of gold and enjoying life just a little bit more, because she was there in it. Virginia was right—Old friends are the best friends.

I had a front-row seat to watch and see those whom she considered as such. I wasn’t in that group, those who called her “Shorty,” but to be sure, I saw what a blessing they were to her, and she to them. I did learn much from her example, as I went forth and continued to build my extended family of friends of love, faith, care, and compassion, remembering every good time and happy, funny moment shared with those she loved best. She was a good teacher by example, that Virginia Gilmore.

Let the music of heaven play on now, and may you have a dance floor that is as wide as an ocean and a band that never quits playing. Well done, thou good and faithful servant.

“Then shall the young women rejoice in the dance, and the young men and the old shall be merry. I will turn their mourning into joy; I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow.” ~~Jeremiah 31:13

Elvis is in the Building, Thanks to Special Gift for Texas A&M’s Libraries

Texas A&M is fortunate to have philanthropists who generously support the university. Close to my heart and to those of many who love A&M are the TAMU Libraries. The name Mrs. Sara Lindsey, of Houston, is well known to many Aggies for her donations to arts, humanities and the libraries. Her latest gift to Texas A&M is her priceless collection of Elvis Presley memorabilia; it's free to the public to see.

Cushing Library, Texas A&M donors, John and Sara Lindsey, and samples of Mrs. Lindsey's donation of her Elvis memorabilia.

Elvis Aron Presley is one of the most influential and original entertainers to shape the world of music. Countless numbers of young men picked up a guitar and decided on a music career as a result of Elvis, aka The King. Thanks to the generosity of Mrs. Sara Lindsey of Houston, Texas, Aggies and visitors to Texas A&M’s Cushing Library now get first look at her personal Elvis Collection. Michael Jackson, Curator of the Collection, was kind enough to share some preview photos on Oct. 23, 2014, especially for AXS.com readers. The collection, known as “The King: Celebrating the Sara H. Lindsey Collection of Elvis Memorabilia” is on the second floor of the Cushing, and the exhibit runs through Dec. 12.

Part of what you’ll see here are memorable photos of Elvis the soldier, as he entered the U.S. Army and served his country as well as becoming a member of the U.S. Army Reserve. Although a tour of military duty could have crushed his then-budding career, Elvis was raised as a boy from Tupelo, Mississippi, to serve his country, same as members of the fightin’ Texas Aggie Corps of Cadets. Mrs. Lindsey is a lifetime fan of Elvis, and she began her collection early, beginning with the types of things we all save from concerts, ticket stubs, buttons, photos, and the like. As soon as Mrs. Lindsey’s friends knew of her collection, they added to it with gifts to her over the years as well, to her great delight.

There’s a standout “Volcano Ring,” that Elvis wore at his 1973 concert “Aloha from Hawaii.” As curator Michael Jackson shared, “it’s the ring that was commissioned as a gift for Elvis by his wife Priscilla.” Clearly these are one-of-a-kind finds for Aggies to enjoy seeing. There are some fun and versatile Elvis collectibles, including a photo of Mrs. Lindsey with an Elvis impersonator, who was hired as a delightful diversion to celebrate her 40th wedding anniversary to her husband, John. Had he known of this, the real Elvis would have been proud.

The Cushing Library is easy to find, set in the heart of the Aggie campus in College Station, just a pebble’s throw away from the historic Academic Building. It’s a favorite location, at one end of the Sterling C. Evans Library complex. Just looking at the top of the building, the names of scientists, scholars, and statesmen engraved in stone in a banner that goes all around the building previews that you’re about to enter a place where collections of educational materials have been amassed over the years, lovingly and wisely preserved for the public to experience.

The Cushing Library is open weekdays to the public; best news of all, it’s free! Convenient parking is available at reasonable rates in the parking garage closest to Rudder Tower. Don’t miss the opportunity to check this out when you’re on campus, and preview some of the items in the accompanying slide show.

The generosity of Sara Lindsey and her husband John H. Lindsey ’44, to Texas A&M University is legendary, despite her best attempts to maintain a low profile in her giving. But that’s really part of the Aggie way; former students and those who love the university give freely, willingly and without much fanfare, because the education of future generations are what is most important to them.

The generation of those who were early givers to the Texas A&M Libraries include first, the late, great Aggie, Sterling C. Evans’23. Some thirty-five years ago, in 1979, at the invitation of Dr. Irene Hoadley, then Director of TAMU Libraries, an undergraduate and graduate student were among the dais invited to offer remarks upon the occasion of the dedication of Sterling C. Evans expansion.

Present that day were Mr. Evans, whose unbounded love for the library and generosity in giving led the way. Mr. Evans had an endearing way of addressing anyone he met as “young lady” or “young man,” even if they were in their 50s and 60s; it was charming and ever as much a throwback to the gracious gentleman he was. The Aggie legend was inspirational to all around him, especially when it came to philanthropy.

Subsequent Library Development would move forward with the creation of a formal Library Development Council including Mr. Evans, the late Irma and Bill Runyon ‘35, who supported both the Evans library, as well as giving the art collection for which the Forsyth Galleries were established in 1989. Bill and Irma would attend council meetings, having driven in from Dallas in a classic Rolls Royce, the young man who’d grown up to be a great success in business. He loved attending art auctions because he said, “he was shopping for A&M,” and he meant it.

One of the leaders of the development council was the Rev. Dr. Leonora Ryan Montgomery, widow of the late Aggie Jeff Montgomery, ’41, of Houston, who been distinguished in petroleum engineering and to Texas A&M, serving as Chair of the Association of Former Students in 1968. Upon Jeff’s passing, Leonora continued oversight of and devotion to Jeff’s philanthropic interests for A&M, of which the library was part. Present also that day were John H. and Sara Lindsey, as the couple shared a special devotion to the library as the key to learning. The John H. Lindsey Building on the TAMU campus is, of course, home to the Texas A&M Press. The Lindsey gifts over the years to A&M have benefited arts, humanities, and particularly the libraries.

Such philanthropy didn’t happen overnight, and it most certainly did not occur as a result of a proposal placed before the donors that awakened them to a need to give. Rather, it is the true heart and soul of the Aggie acculturation for giving back that was born almost as early as the university was born. The need to give back, the desire to show appreciation for those who came before, to honor those faculty and staff who gave sacrificially at low salaries compared to private business, to teach Aggies is just the Aggie way and it can’t be properly quantified in words as it’s a 12th Man spirit of giving.

The professors who rented out garage apartments at rock-bottom prices to (then) young men coming from farms to study agriculture and mechanical engineering at A&M and go home to make their marks on the world were the first donors. Following that example were Aggie former students who, just a few years out in the world, would give back their own senior boots or the funds for someone else in future classes to afford their senior boots. That spirit is as strong today as current TAMU Corps of Cadets Commandant, Brig. Gen. Joe E. Ramirez spotted the recent quick thinking of E-2 Cadet Ryan Kreider, who saved Miss Reveille from being run into by an SMU receiver, and he announced he was buying Cadet Kreider’s senior boots when that day came.

Elvis Presley was personally noted for his vast philanthropic gifts, some to complete strangers, simply for the joy of giving. Many things he’d do to help were never known publicly, because he just enjoyed the sheer joy of giving anonymously. This is exactly the same spirit of philanthropy with which Mrs. Lindsey has been giving to the TAMU Libraries over the years. Her beloved collection of precious Elvis memorabilia is her most recent and definitely one of her most thoughtful gifts. Aggies everywhere will appreciate this for years to come. If asked, they’d surely say something like: “Thank you, thank you very much.” Elvis is “in” the house, and the Cushing Library is the place to check it out.

[Note: Full story previously on AXS.Com at: http://www.axs.com/news/elvis-is-in-the-building-thanks-to-special-gift-for-texas-a-m-s-librar-24939#slide=1]