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On Being Interesting: Gay Burkhart
“I must CONSTANTLY remind myself to think and feel more deeply. There is a sadness and shallowness that comes with living in today’s world—particularly in the United States. Fewer and fewer families remain for generations — let alone a single generation — long enough to create empathetic bonds. We lose a depth of understanding and, therefore, empathy/sympathy of the “plight” of individuals or the knowledge of ways to be of help.”
Gay Burkhart
About nine years ago, we participated in an Artist Open House event at the The Stutz building in Indianapolis. At the time, we had a suite at the building and we opened our doors to visitors exploring the various studios throughout the nearly 300,000 square foot former auto manufacturing facility that’s been around since 1912. The event, and our suite, were filled with people and I found myself near the door talking with Sally and our friend, Gay. A man nearby appeared to be looking for something. I greeted him, asking, “Welcome! May I help you find something?” He smiled and said, “I’m looking for my wife.” Without missing a beat, Gay replied, “What did you have in mind? I may be available.” He chuckled a bit awkwardly and replied, “Uh…I’m already married.”
Sally and I still laugh about that story. In her late seventies at the time, Gay was always unapologetically herself, feisty quips included.
Two years ago, Gay visited me at our offices. Our time together inspired a blog post. Here is part of it:
A friend paid me a visit at my office last week. Now in her mid-80's, she made the long drive into Indianapolis, navigating construction, arguing with Google, and working to avoid the often bizarrely unexpected from other drivers. As she unpacked the picnic lunch she had brought, complete with placemats, plates, and silverware, she told me of some of her projects, her busy schedule, and her efforts to help the "old people" living in her retirement community.If one looked up "golden years" in the dictionary, her photo and CV might appear. Though I've only known her for about 15 years of her long life, I suspect that "golden" is more a reflection of her overall approach to life rather than a summation of a window of time. Some are just radiant that way.
Amid the soup, sandwich, and dessert, we caught up on much, and I found myself smiling at her energy and curiosity. A beautiful conversation is one that moves along effortlessly, lifting all along the way, and forcing itself to no place in particular, all while taking you somewhere else. Ours was a lovely conversation.
One topic we covered was her effort to help those in her community through a cookbook project and a guidebook on interacting with those suffering from dementia. She described the general retreat she saw in many who were older, oftentimes a retreat to comfort, or from fear. As she spoke, I thought to myself, "retreat of this type doesn't just happen in a retirement community."
Gay’s response to that post: “I’m so embarrassed.”
I first met Gay when we both served on the Board of Gennesaret Free Clinics here in Indianapolis. Gennesaret provided free medical, dental, and recovery, care for the homeless and others suffering in inner city Indianapolis. Gay had a heart for service and was a long-time supporter of the clinics and those they served. Gay wasn’t afraid to ask the tough questions of “why?” and “how much?” even as her heart for the mission always showed on her sleeve.
My friend passed away a few weeks ago and I smile as I remember her. This summary from her obituary captures well her spirit:
"Gay was a homemaker, philanthropist and volunteer through most of her adult life. She traveled widely, usually with camera gear in tow. She visited every continent in the world (some multiple times) except Australia and had tens of thousands of pictures memorializing those trips. She had an incredibly giving heart and always wanted to help. She was a great cook and loved entertaining friends and family in her home. She was extremely creative and handy. She would try to do everything for herself and rarely had to surrender to asking for help. She was devoted to organization, even if getting organized and prepared for a project meant that the project didn’t get started, much less finished. She enjoyed crafting and collecting craft supplies in equal measure. Her handmade greeting cards, gift wrapping and table decorations were legendary. She strove to be informed on all things, always asking the next question to fill in her knowledge gaps. Many of her neighbors at Hoosier Village and her earlier homes will remember her “walking” her faithful, cute, but high-maintenance and often cantankerous, dog Sammy while riding her recumbent tricycle replete with a six-foot safety flag."Gay often responded to my blog posts and we maintained an intermittent correspondence through such interactions. She loved following and commenting on our adventures. Her mind was clear and bright and inquisitive, ready to challenge if she disagreed, question if something was not clear, and encourage where she saw the opportunity to come to an understanding. She always had a sparkle in her eye – a fire for living that made living interesting.
The quotation I shared at the beginning of this post was a response Gay gave to a piece I wrote during a trip to Italy in 2023. Here is the closing paragraph:
Bernardo told us earlier in the day, “I do not make wine. God creates wine. The vine makes the wine.” His perspective gave everything we saw at Colle Bereto context. With understanding, the beauty of his art became clear. I could see it in a new way, with depth. Italy is a feast for the eyes. Stunning vistas, architecture, art, food, people. However, glimpsing the beautiful complexities layered underneath bring it to life in a new way. The art of it all starts to come alive and I can begin to appreciate it on another level – a far deeper level.
Today we will go to Florence to experience its history and beauty. I hope to see it more deeply, to begin to understand it at that other level, so that I might more fully appreciate it. Perspective is everything.
I pray that at 85 years old, I am still reminding myself to think and feel more deeply, that I care enough to be concerned about the world and my place within it, and that I’m still working to care for others, whatever their “plight” might be. Gay Burkhart was one of those amazing souls who lived a rich, interesting, and meaningful life. One that meant something because of who she was and what she gave, to those who knew her and to those who didn’t.
There are some people who are just worth knowing.
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By Phillip Berry | Orient Yourself
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“I must CONSTANTLY remind myself to think and feel more deeply. There is a sadness and shallowness that comes with living in today’s world—particularly in the United States. Fewer and fewer families remain for generations — let alone a single generation — long enough to create empathetic bonds. We lose a depth of understanding and, therefore, empathy/sympathy of the “plight” of individuals or the knowledge of ways to be of help.”
Gay Burkhart
About nine years ago, we participated in an Artist Open House event at the The Stutz building in Indianapolis. At the time, we had a suite at the building and we opened our doors to visitors exploring the various studios throughout the nearly 300,000 square foot former auto manufacturing facility that’s been around since 1912. The event, and our suite, were filled with people and I found myself near the door talking with Sally and our friend, Gay. A man nearby appeared to be looking for something. I greeted him, asking, “Welcome! May I help you find something?” He smiled and said, “I’m looking for my wife.” Without missing a beat, Gay replied, “What did you have in mind? I may be available.” He chuckled a bit awkwardly and replied, “Uh…I’m already married.”
Sally and I still laugh about that story. In her late seventies at the time, Gay was always unapologetically herself, feisty quips included.
Two years ago, Gay visited me at our offices. Our time together inspired a blog post. Here is part of it:
A friend paid me a visit at my office last week. Now in her mid-80's, she made the long drive into Indianapolis, navigating construction, arguing with Google, and working to avoid the often bizarrely unexpected from other drivers. As she unpacked the picnic lunch she had brought, complete with placemats, plates, and silverware, she told me of some of her projects, her busy schedule, and her efforts to help the "old people" living in her retirement community.If one looked up "golden years" in the dictionary, her photo and CV might appear. Though I've only known her for about 15 years of her long life, I suspect that "golden" is more a reflection of her overall approach to life rather than a summation of a window of time. Some are just radiant that way.
Amid the soup, sandwich, and dessert, we caught up on much, and I found myself smiling at her energy and curiosity. A beautiful conversation is one that moves along effortlessly, lifting all along the way, and forcing itself to no place in particular, all while taking you somewhere else. Ours was a lovely conversation.
One topic we covered was her effort to help those in her community through a cookbook project and a guidebook on interacting with those suffering from dementia. She described the general retreat she saw in many who were older, oftentimes a retreat to comfort, or from fear. As she spoke, I thought to myself, "retreat of this type doesn't just happen in a retirement community."
Gay’s response to that post: “I’m so embarrassed.”
I first met Gay when we both served on the Board of Gennesaret Free Clinics here in Indianapolis. Gennesaret provided free medical, dental, and recovery, care for the homeless and others suffering in inner city Indianapolis. Gay had a heart for service and was a long-time supporter of the clinics and those they served. Gay wasn’t afraid to ask the tough questions of “why?” and “how much?” even as her heart for the mission always showed on her sleeve.
My friend passed away a few weeks ago and I smile as I remember her. This summary from her obituary captures well her spirit:
"Gay was a homemaker, philanthropist and volunteer through most of her adult life. She traveled widely, usually with camera gear in tow. She visited every continent in the world (some multiple times) except Australia and had tens of thousands of pictures memorializing those trips. She had an incredibly giving heart and always wanted to help. She was a great cook and loved entertaining friends and family in her home. She was extremely creative and handy. She would try to do everything for herself and rarely had to surrender to asking for help. She was devoted to organization, even if getting organized and prepared for a project meant that the project didn’t get started, much less finished. She enjoyed crafting and collecting craft supplies in equal measure. Her handmade greeting cards, gift wrapping and table decorations were legendary. She strove to be informed on all things, always asking the next question to fill in her knowledge gaps. Many of her neighbors at Hoosier Village and her earlier homes will remember her “walking” her faithful, cute, but high-maintenance and often cantankerous, dog Sammy while riding her recumbent tricycle replete with a six-foot safety flag."Gay often responded to my blog posts and we maintained an intermittent correspondence through such interactions. She loved following and commenting on our adventures. Her mind was clear and bright and inquisitive, ready to challenge if she disagreed, question if something was not clear, and encourage where she saw the opportunity to come to an understanding. She always had a sparkle in her eye – a fire for living that made living interesting.
The quotation I shared at the beginning of this post was a response Gay gave to a piece I wrote during a trip to Italy in 2023. Here is the closing paragraph:
Bernardo told us earlier in the day, “I do not make wine. God creates wine. The vine makes the wine.” His perspective gave everything we saw at Colle Bereto context. With understanding, the beauty of his art became clear. I could see it in a new way, with depth. Italy is a feast for the eyes. Stunning vistas, architecture, art, food, people. However, glimpsing the beautiful complexities layered underneath bring it to life in a new way. The art of it all starts to come alive and I can begin to appreciate it on another level – a far deeper level.
Today we will go to Florence to experience its history and beauty. I hope to see it more deeply, to begin to understand it at that other level, so that I might more fully appreciate it. Perspective is everything.
I pray that at 85 years old, I am still reminding myself to think and feel more deeply, that I care enough to be concerned about the world and my place within it, and that I’m still working to care for others, whatever their “plight” might be. Gay Burkhart was one of those amazing souls who lived a rich, interesting, and meaningful life. One that meant something because of who she was and what she gave, to those who knew her and to those who didn’t.
There are some people who are just worth knowing.