Michelle Olafson (Team Member)

I have so many memories of Franke Tobey Jones, but here are a few (using only first names!)

Lois & Helen:  Lois was literally dropped off at Lillian Pratt by her son, who then drove off because he did not want to deal with his mother’s wrath.  Lois had been a total recluse in her own home for many years.  When Lois lived alone, she would not open the door and kept her blinds closed.  I thought it would be the worst admission of my life. 

Lois was kind to us at Franke Tobey Jones and quickly made friends with Helen, one of the other residents.  Helen was a kind woman, but very shy.  She was the type of person who would just giggle (nervously) when you spoke to her. Both women had short-term memory loss but functioned fine and became the best of friends.  If you saw Helen, then Lois was right next to her.

FTJ was having their annual Senior Prom at Stadium High School.  While at the event, I got a call from the nurse at FTJ that both of them were missing and they couldn’t find them anywhere on campus.   I looked over the balcony from the second floor at Stadium HS and spotted them on the dance floor dancing in their chairs, singing, and having a grand old time at this party.  Neither had signed up for the Prom and they should have had an escort anyway, due to their memory loss.  We assigned my husband to watch over them and make sure that they did not leave on their own.  They stayed the whole time and rode the FTJ bus back with the other residents.  I loved that they stowed away on the bus and enjoyed themselves so much that night!  They were renegades.  They were the best of friends and always stuck by each other’s side.  As Lois’s health declined, Helen would go and get her every day from her room and push her around in her wheelchair. 

BB: When I first started at FTJ in 1999 as a Sales Assistant, I met a man named BB.  He was known as a very serious, former member of the military, and very type “A”.  He intimidated me a little when I first met him.  His room was always so tidy with his shoes lined up etc.   He would often stop in my office to chat and I got to know him quite well.  It was my birthday and I received a “Shoebox” birthday card (Shoebox cards are known for being funny).  When his daughter came in, I told her about the card.  She said that she couldn’t believe he would give me a funny card because “her father didn’t have a funny bone in his body.”  She told me that her father was always very strict and non-emotional.  His garage was in perfect order with the outline of the tools drawn on the peg board.  It would be major trouble if she didn’t put something back where it belonged.

One day, BB asked me to come to his room because he wanted to show me something.  I was afraid, because I didn’t know what to expect, so I left the door open.  He told me to come and sit on the end of the bed and proceeded to pull something out of the closet—a book.  BB had been a POW, captured by the Japanese.   The book was illustrated by one of the other POWs and told about their horrific time as prisoners.  We shared a very emotional moment as he told me about his experience.  I later found out from his daughter that he had never shared that book with anyone or talked about his capture.   This man warmed my heart and I knew we had a special bond.  This was one of the hardest deaths I have had to deal with in all of my years at FTJ.   BB changed while living at FTJ.  He grew to become a funny, and more compassionate person not only to me but to his daughter as well.   RIP

Iris:  We had a resident with dementia in our skilled nursing unit.  (I will call her Iris.)  She would constantly call the front desk and ask, in a very southern accent, for things to be done.  I would answer the phone and ask Iris how I could help her.  She would respond with a very thick southern accent “Hi honey, I need someone to come mop my floors” or “I need someone to come in here and close my blinds.”  Sometimes she would call the desk and say, “Excuse me, but I can’t find my panties.”  I always answered with “I will send someone right away.”  I think Iris thought she was still in the south and living in a hotel. 

One day her family called me, so I asked, “Oh my gosh, your mom has such a great southern accent! Where is she from?”  I expected them to say South Carolina or Alabama.  Her daughter replied, “She is from South Tacoma and has never lived in the South.”  I think if I get dementia, I will have a southern accent, too! 

One of my most emotional memories from working at FTJ is when we had a retired Major General (Air Force) who lived in AL and his wife was in SN.  This man was was in World War II flying the Bristol Beaufighter as a night pilot, after enlisting.  He wrote 2 books, “I wanted to Fly” in 2006 and “Fly I did” in 2009.  He and his beautiful wife were married around 1943.  They were an amazing couple and always carried themselves with such grace and admiration for each other.

One day as I was walking through skilled nursing (which was the old Health Care Center behind LP), I walked by her room and saw “Jack” applying makeup to his bride because she could no longer do it.  He was adding color to her brows and cheeks and lips.  I could not contain my emotion as I scurried out of there and silently wept.  The gesture of complete love and adoration overcame me.  I knew I had witnessed what many of our residents go through, as complications of aging have on us.  I knew I had witnessed something so beautiful and heartbreaking.  I will always remember this man and his love for his wife.

FTJ has changed me too and I am so grateful for my time here.

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