Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, September 5, 1995 TAG: 9509070014
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: EXTRA EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BETH MACY
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
But entering the second half of a century, ``I felt like, oh my God, I have to start acting like a grandmother,'' she says.
She was haunted by visions of her own mother, who died at age 52, curled up in an alcohol-induced fetal position.
And there were the uncomfortable changes going on in her own body, signaling the end of her so-called ``feminine role.''
Shirley Ann had a choice: Either she could wallow in the hardships of the past and the uncertainties of the present, or she could re-invent herself at 50.
She chose the latter. And to celebrate her decision, she partied.
Friends and co-workers at the Science Museum of Western Virginia threw her a birthday bash at Blueberry Hill. ``We danced, all the girls and me. We had a great time,'' she says.
They twisted, boogied and shook to the tunes of Elvis, The Beach Boys, Chuck Berry and Little Richard. ``It was the best birthday I'd ever had.
``I'd had one party in my life as a child,'' she recalls. ``I was abused, grew up in poverty. And here I was at 50, probably reasonably happy with myself for the first time in my life.''
Re-inventing herself was nothing new. In 1982, with her children grown and out of college, the 38-year-old re-entered the workforce at the only job she could land - clerking the Christmas sales at Leggett. Eventually, she went back to college, switched jobs and worked her way up from science museum membership coordinator to its director of operations.
At 50, she really went for it. She decided to take her first airplane trip - to New York, then to Texas, then to Florida, then to Pennsylvania. ``I actually think at 50, you get past the worries of getting pregnant, and you can enjoy life more and travel and do what you want.''
So last year when the science museum announced its two-week trip to Kenya, Shirley Ann knew another first would soon be on the way.
But it turned out to be even bigger than the novelty of her first trip abroad. When she applied for her passport early this year, another bit of news sent her flying.
Shirley Ann wasn't 50 at all. She was 49.
She's not sure how the mix-up happened. The small clinic where she was born in Iaeger, W.Va., may have put the wrong date on her papers. Her mother may have sent her to school at 4, instead of 5.
When she learned of her reprieve from 50, ``I died laughing,'' she says, especially given her initial resentment toward the birthday.
And so this year on July 17, she turned 50 - again. Her husband, a Franklin County farmer, took her out to dinner. ``He thought I should have left it alone,'' she says of Oliver Thompson Jr., who is 66. ``He wasn't too keen on being married to someone that much younger than him.''
And now, at this very minute, Shirley Ann Thompson is off somewhere in Kenya, Africa, more than an ocean away. In a wild and faraway place where even women who turn 50 - twice - aren't too old to prove a thing or two to the rest of us.
We should all be so very young.
\ I've received a three-inch stack of mail since I started writing my weekly Thursday column three years ago.
Though most of the letters have been positive, not everyone's a fan. One reader, a man who lives in Blacksburg, wrote to thank me for taking a respite from the column during my maternity leave:
``I'm curious as to what would make you believe that anyone outside your immediate family could possibly be interested in the mundane details of your everyday life.'' He went on to say that, despite his contempt for my work, he reads my column regularly - because ``much like a car wreck, I find it hard to turn away.''
And then there is Roanoke's Teresa Wells Severin, who recently wrote to say that my column is her ``only bright spot in the newspaper. ... Your column about mothers and daughters hit so close to home. ... Beth, you are making an extremely meaningful contribution with your life. That's the most any of us could hope for.''
Obviously, different readers like different things.
As of today, my column will appear Tuesdays and Thursdays in Extra. When I proposed the idea of writing two columns a week to my editors, I told them I wanted to write about ``the stuff that happens in people's lives.''
Some of it will be about stuff that happens in my life, most of it will be about yours.
From the hopes and hazards of turning 50 to the universal anxiety of that first trip to college, I hope this column will reflect real people doing real things - things that don't typically translate into the hard news and features that run elsewhere in this newspaper.
The things my friends and I talk about on the telephone. The ``I'll be damned!'' anecdotes passed on by my favorite postal clerk, Stuart. The offbeat things, like the wonderful dissonance of that 7 o'clock morning whistle, that make Roanoke quintessentially Roanoke.
And the ideas I get from your phone calls and letters. Please keep 'em coming.
This newspaper recently commissioned a readership survey that showed, among other things, that 70 percent of you believe our job is to make people feel connected to this community.
This column won't strike a universal chord with every reader, every time. But I hope that for some of you, like Teresa Wells Severin, it occasionally will hit close to your home and your community.
That, anyway, is the most I could hope for.
tagline: Beth Macy's column runs Tuesdays and Thursdays in Extra. Her number is 981-3435, or (800) 346-1234, ext. 435. You can write to her at P.O. Box 2491, Roanoke, Va. 24010.
by CNB