She was a lady I did recycling with down in Texas.

I told Eric the other day when he gave me and Miss Johnnie a ride to the hospital that I would write about it.

Which I probably have anyway, but Miss Bootsie died on October 7th.

She would have been 90 if she had lived until February.

Just in the past 3 years she had to stop recycling. Coronary arteries deteriorating.

She had this beat up white Ford Ranger 1/4 ton pickup she would have routinely filled with a ton of metal and half a ton of me and whoever else was dumb enough to ride with her.

Yeah, she drove crazy.

Riding with Miss Bootsie was a Religious Experience. I would even call on the Name of Our Lord three or four times every time we went out “hunting”.

I got in the habit of closing my eyes while we were rolling because, you know, if you’re fixing to die, why spend an extra few seconds being tortured by the certain knowledge thereof?

Her oldest brother was killed in World War One, just before Armistice Day in fact.

She only knew him from a picture.

Her Obituary in the Star-Telegram said that the longest she had worked any job was as a waitress for a few years.

Not so.

She had the Recycling, I guess Some People don’t consider that to be work but it sure the Hell is.

And the really important lifetime job of Being a Spectacularly Good Example and my hero.

Her given name was Beulah Faye Hall. I didn’t know that until I asked how to find her in the phone book.

I started singing that Hymn “I’m not worried for I’m dwelling, in Beulah Land” and she told me to stop.