Dorothy Wilhelm
It was 1948, and Rita Grush was four years out of the Army, but this proud former member of the Women’s Army Corps continued to dress in khaki skirt and shirt, brown hose and shoes. She still had her Top Sergeant’s growl which could probably stop a grown man in his tracks, and cause squirrels and small birds to fall from trees at 30 paces.
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In short, Miss Grush was terrifying. She taught the sacred rules of journalism to my class at Havermale Junior High School in Spokane, and I sure had no doubt that everything Miss Grush said was gospel. Always verify from three independent sources, she cautioned. Be sure to spell proper names correctly. Never print anything you haven’t personally verified. These were just part of the list. We would not have believed that one day the things people accepted as “news stories” could be entirely fiction.
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As a WAC, Miss Grush had been part of that military organization created by Congress in 1942. Originally, they were the WAAC (Women’s Army Auxiliary Corp), but by 1943, the women went on reclassified for active duty and dropped the extra A. They weren’t Auxiliary anymore. They were regular Army.
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March is National Women’s History Month, a time to salute the women who have changed the nation and the world, so I’m going to take the opportunity to honor the women who changed my personal history.
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Maybe the most important lesson I learned from the women in my history is that failure can be a very good thing.
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I became a Red Cross volunteer while we were living in Bangkok. I totally failed at everything. I couldn’t get temperature readings and why would anyone even ask me to correctly fasten a blood pressure cuff? Finally, I was allowed to pass water. That is to say, I was given a cart with a pitcher of water to refresh the cups of rather despondent military men who certainly expected to be doing something more fun in Bangkok than spending time in the hospital. Apparently the thought was that I couldn’t do any harm that way. That was incorrect.
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I spilled quite a bit of water, but I was doing OK — until I came to the bed of a combat photographer who had broken his spine in a plane crash. In a transport of pity, I stepped close and bumped into the bed with my cart. This jiggled his leg which was unfortunately attached to his spine. He was actually very nice about it when he was able to stop screaming, but the very next day I got a call from the Chairman of Volunteers. I expected the worst, of course. Even though it was a volunteer position, no one wants to be fired.
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Julia Abrams didn’t fire me. Instead, she pointed out that there was no Recreation Service at Fifth Field Hospital, so why didn’t I start one? I somehow believed I could do it, but more important, she believed I could do it. We parted with her last word of advice, “For God’s sake, keep away from the sick people!” Within a year, I had activities for more than 100 recreation volunteers.
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My personal history notes that as the Commanding General’s Lady, Mrs. Abrams could have called that day to tell me there simply wasn’t any place for me in that group. But she didn’t tell me they couldn’t use my service and she didn’t set me to addressing envelopes. She used my failure to find something I could do well. Now, that’s worth celebrating.
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So although I thrill to the stories of national heroines, of course, this National Women’s History Month, I’m celebrating the women in my history, who showed me there’s always a way.
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That brings us back to Miss Grush.
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“To report the news,” she said, “is like carrying a light. Never, never write anything you don’t know to be true.”
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Once I tried fiction and I told a story from which I could not extricate the main character, so I had him wake up — it was all a dream, I wrote. Miss Grush exploded. Then she exploded again. Her face was alarmingly red.
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“Don’t you EVER do that again,” she roared, so loud that the students downstairs in the gym came out to watch. “Don’t you ever! That’s a cheat. We don’t cheat!”
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I know Miss Grush would be disappointed with some of what is called news or journalism today. But there are still people determinedly carrying the light. When you find them, it would be good to say thank you. Thanks, Miss Grush. Thanks, Mrs. Abrams.
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Where to find Dorothy in March
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March 6: 9 a.m. Coffee, Chat and Change the World, followed at 11 a.m. by The Book Doctors. Both at https://swimmingupstreamradioshow.com
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March 7: 10 a.m. Coffee Klatsch at Westminster Presbyterian Fellowship Hall in Olympia. “I’m Dying To Tell You.”
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For information or registration, contact Dorothy at 800-548-9264 or Dorothy@swimmingupstreamradioshow.com
