The Umbrella Lady

Every town has at least one…the larger cities have even more. We walk and drive past them and they grab and sometimes hold our attention, often by doing nothing more than existing. What draws us in is that these individuals are existing in a slightly altered reality in full public view. They roam our streets; some call them eccentric, others say they are “touched”, and medical science labels them mentally ill. Whatever we may choose to call them to describe their state all of these people have one thing in common...something, someone, some circumstance happened to them that created this alternative reality.I have a compassion for people when I see them wandering around, seemingly oblivious to the space and people around them. Mental Illness has impacted my family, in the form of depression and anxiety, for many generations. I have a deep seeded fear that at some point in my life I will succumb to this monster myself and on many occasions have already felt it’s grip squeezing upon my psyche. It’s like a stalker following you everywhere, just out of sight but you still feel a presence breathing on your neck. I think the best way to describe those periods of time is to compare it with something everyone has experienced at some time in your life. Recall a deep sleep when you are in the full throes of a dream and something, either in your dream or in your reality, suddenly startles you awake. Your body is in a separate state from your mind. The former is pumped with adrenaline; heart racing, sometimes trembling, possibly breathing hard. The latter is still sleeping; confused and trying to get your equilibrium. When I am in a depressive state this is how I feel…scared of something I cannot necessarily come to terms with and feeling overwhelmed by that fact. I imagine that this may be similar to what the street characters I refer to experience. Being a private person my heart cries for those forced to live this way amongst the judging and misunderstanding communities in which they live.

Oracle road is a main thoroughfare in my hometown of Tucson, Arizona. In the city it is a heavily congested road that is lined with a major mall, restaurants, and end-to-end strip malls. Turning into State Highway 77 it winds up into the foothills to the west of the Catalina Mountains and through Oro Valley, an affluent suburb of the city, then through the small village of Catalina before cutting the desert of Southern Arizona in half and finally ending north of the State Capitol of Phoenix in the namesake town of Oracle.

On any given day if you are driving the Highway 77 section of Oracle inside the city you are very likely to encounter a woman walking along the side of the road, keeping to herself and moving intently toward a destination only she knows. Her appearance is no less than startling, especially the first time you see her because she truly looks like someone from an earlier time in history. I took to calling her “Nelly” because of her resemblance (at least in passing) to the character of “Nelly Olson” from the T.V. series “Little House on the Prairie”, which was a favorite of mine as a child. Those who work in the business district she frequents, however, have given her the moniker “Umbrella Lady”. When my son and his girlfriend were hired at one of the trendy bistros up in the higher end of the district I told them about this character I had often seen driving to and from my credit union or the natural foods store in the area. I explained that for a while I had even wondered if I wasn’t seeing a ghost because she never appeared to venture off of the main street and she always had the same clothing on. She wore a petticoat dress which appeared unbearably hot in the often 100 plus temperatures of Tucson, she sported a hairstyle or a wig that was slightly past her shoulders and curled into the unmistakable barrel curls that Alison Arngrim wore while portraying that snotty rich kid “Nelly”. And always she carried an old fashioned parasol, protecting her from direct sunlight and also serving to block her face from sight. A couple of times I had been close enough to catch a rare glimpse under that umbrella and found her face to be heavily covered in bright shades of make-up, ala Bette Davis in “Whatever Happened To Baby Jane?” Anyway, I told the kids that they would undoubtedly cross her path and that I had a real desire to find out who she was and what her story was.

Within the first couple of days of work Kemah in fact reported to me that she had seen the mysterious woman but as was my typical experience had been unable to see her face. I had sparked an interest in Kemah as well and now that she had an encounter herself she seemed as eager as I was to find out more about her. It was she who talked to her co-workers and found out the woman had been walking the same path for numerous years on a daily basis. It was also Kemah who asked around and finally heard the following story, retold in my words:

The woman is a longtime resident of the village of Catalina, again, north of the city on Highway 77. She was the unfortunate victim of an automobile accident in which she was the driver and her passengers were killed. The riders in her car were members of her own family; her husband and children. Following that tragedy our lady began a daily hike South on Oracle into the Northwest part of Tucson to a local cemetery, where she would spend a little time of each day at the graves of her deceased family members. Following her visit, she would return home on foot. Apparently, if the weather is bad or the heat too intense she has occasionally accepted rides from passing cars and during those rides tells the driver of her tragedy, but most days she prefers to walk and she has never again gotten behind the wheel of a car herself, and she says she never will.

I don’t know “Nelly’s” real name or even if the story is true or if it was created by someone as an explanation for her daily walks into Tucson…but I appreciate a good story when I hear one. I do know the power of grief though and believe if the story did happen that way then there is no question as to what sent this poor woman into another time. I wish her peace on her “journey” and know now that when I do see her I will have a new appreciation for this long walk she takes…and if the weather is bad, I plan on giving her a lift. 4/5/2012