Saturday will be my sister Suzanne’s birthday. In honor of her, I thought it would be most appropriate to share the article about Suzanne and her friends that ran in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution last month. The mother mentioned in the article is ours, Van Spalding Schroder. Enjoy.

Candy-stripers reunite after 50 years

By Gracie Bonds Staples, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 10/24/07

Suzanne Cronk has long wanted to re-create the moment captured in the old black-and-white photograph. It represented two of the best years of her life, shared with her closest friends. They were eighth-graders in 1952, a girl clique of 11- and 12-year-olds, some smiling, some holding hands, all in their striped pinafores. The six of them have remained friends for more than 50 years.

They called themselves the “Mission Belles” but the truth is they had no mission except togetherness. They attended the same Catholic school, the Cathedral of Christ the King. They lived in the same Atlanta-area neighborhoods. They spent the night together, walked to Buckhead after school or to Wender & Roberts Drug Store for a Coke.

One day, one of their mothers gently informed them they needed to do something with purpose. Arrangements were made for the girls to stop in for a talk with an administrator at St. Joseph’s Infirmary. The Mission Belles soon were calling themselves St. Joe’s Little Helpers, getting to work at 8:30 a.m. as newly minted candy-stripers.

They traded sleeping time for visiting patients, filling water pitchers, delivering flowers and making beds. They came face to face with poverty and suffering and death for the first time in their young lives. They never forgot the four boys injured in the car accident; the 18-month-old baby revived after her heart stopped; or the little girl badly burned in a house fire.

“We were glad the hospital wanted us,” Cronk said in a newspaper interview in 1954.

By then, high school course work and a slew of extra-curricular activities were taking more of their time. Volunteering at St. Joseph took a back seat. In 1957, they graduated from Christ the King High School and, for the first time since they started school, went their separate ways. They went off to college. They married. All but one of them had children and grandchildren.

Three of them became registered nurses: Cronk, who now lives in Jasper, and Betty Lou Brennan Douglas and Julie Paquette Smith, both of Florida. Catherine Lehner Hallighan, of Chamblee, has retired from teaching in the DeKalb County public schools. Carol Schnurr Connolly of Pawleys Island, S.C., was an avid volunteer. And Patricia Harrison Robert of New York, worked 13 years as director of communications for Radio City Music Hall, then traveled with the Moscow circus, doing advertising and public relations.

Although they mostly lived in different states, Douglas said they stayed in touch “thanks largely to Suzanne.” They talked on the phone. Some got together occasionally for a game of bridge. And every five years, without fail, as many as possible returned to Christ the King for a class reunion. In April, they gathered for their 50th, the first time in 25 years all of them were able to attend.

Cronk knew this was perhaps her last chance to get a photo of them in the same line-up as they were all those years ago. They gathered for the photo, a girl clique of 67- and 68-year-olds. Forever friends.

Their years at St. Joe, Cronk said, made their relationship richer. Having that old photograph kept it alive. The new one makes it immortal.

Top photo: Pictured in 1952 from left are Julie Paquette Smith, Carol Schnurr Connolly, Patricia Harrison Robert, Suzanne Schroder Cronk, Betty Lou Brennan Douglas and Catherine Lehner Hallighan, who called themselves St. Joe’s Little Helpers.

Second photo: Suzanne Schroder Cronk, fourth from left, waited 25 years but she finally got her friends together for a photo at their 50th class reunion. With her from left, are Julie Paquette Smith, Carol Schnurr Connolly, Patricia Harrison Robert, Betty Lou Brennan Douglas and Catherine Lehner Hallighan

For years, my mother has lamented that she does not hear often enough from her children and grandchildren. “I call and leave messages at your office, but I never get anybody,” she’d say.
I usually had one response: “Mom, it’s time you got a computer. If you sent us email, you would hear back from us immediately!” She said she was “too old to learn something new and complicated” like a computer, but I kept assuring her that lots of people in their 70s, 80s and 90s were internet-adept.

Then one day, she called to say she had just returned from a meeting of the condo association and that everyone in the building, including her, now had broadband. “What does that mean?” she asked. “It means it’s time we bought you a computer,” I said.

So I purchased a new, fast, inexpensive computer and she was suddenly typing again after a 50-year break from the keyboard. And it did bring us closer together, but not in the email-exchanging way I had envisioned. What mom needed more than anything was a tutor and I became one of several relatives who have spent time with her in front of cyberspace.

She’s been frustrated all these years when TV news or the paper referred to web sites for more information. So, in a few minutes, I had her clicking through on the New York Times, yahoo and other sites of interest. She most enjoys researching an ancestor who once served as a congressman and a colonel in the Civil War.

She will call me a couple times a week, getting computer tips. Often, if I have meetings in Buckhead, I will stop in and help her when she is stumped. One day she called and said she couldn’t get anything to download. I dropped by, looked at her attempt and noticed she only had two “w’s” rather than the required three in the internet address. We had a good long laugh about that.

Several times a week, her children and grandchildren might receive an email from her asking about family or giving advice. Frequently, an email will arrive on my screen, urging me to get a flu shot or go more frequently to church. One, entitled “Renew,” suggested I “take a minute to get back your dependence on God. He is such a comfort, and wants to direct you. I’m afraid you have gotten in the same phase I am: too much world, and newspaper and TV. It clouds my mind!”

My mother turns 85 years old this month. She is a wonder of energy. All her offspring wish we had her zest for life and ability to focus on people most important to us. Since my dad died seven years ago, she has been more active than ever, driving to the beach, the mountains and all over town.

Her definition of family is large, including nieces, distant relatives, neighbors and ex-in-laws. Several times in the past few years, she has been thoughtful enough to send a little money to my ex-wife in Charlotte “just to help with back-to-school.” Recently, I drove Mom up for my daughter’s graduation. Mom held court at dinner the night before and at the ice cream store after the ceremony. She asked questions of my children’s step-dad and his kids and helped ease some awkwardness. Afterwards, my ex mentioned several times “how great it was to see your mother.”

As my children reach college-age, I’ve begun to think how much I look forward to being a grandfather. I never knew any of my grandfathers; they died years before I was born. But I did know Mom’s mom and her grandmother, who lived to be a month or two short of her 100th birthday. I believe Mom will live beyond the century mark and will be there to serve as my role model. I am humbled by her awesome example. Happy birthday, Mom. I love you.