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Verda The Indomitable

Combs, at 90, knows plenty about survival, living

One of the best things about being 90 is saying what you want, eating what you want and doing what you want, according to my friend, Verda Combs. She says the problem at 90, however, is just not wanting much of anything anymore.

This matriarch of Combs, Ark., says the first thing people ask her is if the town she lives in is named for her, which means she must once again explain the 200-year history of Combs and her by-marriage-only link to the place 39 years ago. You can tell she is rather tired of repeating the story.

I met this character about 15 years ago in a heated therapeutic swimming pool, of all places, where I was working through two hip replacements, and Verda was dealing with her back problems. Like most compatriots in any ordeal, we felt a kinship as we each worked on our aches and pains, and age differences faded in the steamy fog.

Verda Vallier, descended from French and German stock, was born in Kansas June 24, 1925. Life got rough very early. When she was 3 or 4, an exploding kerosene lamp burned her severely, leaving scars, but more on her self image than on what others ever notice when meeting her. Her mother died of cancer at age 36, when Verda was just 10 years old, and at 16 during a plastic surgery operation for her burn scars, Verda almost died from a miscalculation of the ether used during the procedure.

Pretty well left to fend for themselves as young teens, she and her sister did small jobs to earn some money, but also frequently were hungry. After high school, she began nursing school in Emporia, Kan., paid for completely by the U.S. government, which had established nurse-training programs during World War II. Her room, board and education were all free, and she even got a $13 check each month out of which she had to buy clothes and everything else she needed.

She says she started her training on a Sunday and learned how to bathe patients on Monday. By Wednesday the students were put to work and the first patient she bathed died as she was caring for him. Distraught, she just knew she'd killed him, and although her supervisor assured her she hadn't, that unpromising start to her career has become part of family lore. (I've asked her if she's kept a record of her victims, but she just gives me her sour look, which is par for our teasing friendship. She'd probably pinch me if she could run fast enough.)

As a senior student with good grades, she was sent for training for three months each to hospitals in Chicago (obstetrics), St. Louis (psychiatrics) and Mercy Children's Hospital in Kansas City. Because the war was over long before the end of her schooling, upon graduating she was allowed to pursue her nursing career. She worked in Kansas, California, and later in Texas, where she married and had her two children, Cindy and Ken. Widowed about eight years later, she returned home to Kansas to raise her children, then worked in New Mexico, and finally moved to Arkansas because she'd always liked the state, where she worked at City Hospital in Fayetteville.

A friend introduced her to Bert Combs, and they married in 1976. Verda, who was widowed again in 1985, says she never had time for hobbies because she always worked, "until they started doing computers. That was something she wanted no part of, so she retired.

In briefly outlining her life for me, she said, "It was in nurse's training I learned to live." She said the students were "green," with no real idea of what to do, and school provided her with independence and taught her how to get along with people, which she considers to be her best trait. She said, "We learned how to live a life."

Making it to 90 is no small feat for anyone, but Verda is competing with cats for 9 lives. In addition to her rough youth, she's had three cancers (skin, breast, and stomach), back problems, gall bladder and spleen attacks, and two years ago her doc said her heart could quit at any moment, then told her to make an appointment for four months out. She, of course, replied, "If I'm not dead?" Since then she's managed to break a hip.

Happy Birthday, Verda. You are one amazing gal.

Fran Alexander is a Fayetteville resident with a longstanding interest in the environment and an opinion on almost anything else. Email her at [email protected].

Commentary on 07/07/2015

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