Debbi and I were roommates our freshman year in college. I wrote this about her a few weeks after she died:
Debbi and I were good roomies but it almost didn’t happen. A lot of things in my life imploded around the time I graduated from high school. I had plans to go to an out-of-state college but my father died two weeks before graduation. Plans changed quickly and I found myself at UNCC and absolutely miserable.
Debbi and I were in the same large high school class. We had one English class together but we didn’t run around in the same crowd. A friend suggested that with all the turmoil in my life, I might try to find a roommate that I knew. Specifically, it was suggested that I find someone who wasn’t a good friend but an acquaintance. Something familiar. So, I approached Debbi. She said yes, and we were off.
I got lucky. She was a sweet, open, and friendly but slightly shy person. It would have been impossible not to like her. We were very different but somehow it worked. We both had late birthdays, so we started college at 17 and were “underage”‘for the first two months of school. Frankly, we were a little overwhelmed. Debbi was passionate about horses; I was a dog person. She ate peanut butter straight from the jar with a spoon; the idea repulsed me. I was depressed; she was ditzy.
But she was thoughtful and generous to a fault. She had a lot of jewelry and she’d loan anything to anybody, no questions asked. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind that year and she would often do sweet things like bring me food from the cafeteria when I just didn’t want to leave the room.
I will share a story about Debbi that I’ve laughed about many times. And full disclosure: after we reconnected on Facebook, we both laughed about it.
Just before I started college, I opened my first checking account. I was meticulous about it. I recorded every check the moment I wrote it, subtracted it on the spot. Every line in my check register was filled in - date, check number, who the check was to and what it was for, and the amount. Every month, as soon as the statement arrived, I balanced it to the penny.
Debbi? Not so much. She marveled at my fastidious checkbook because she never had the slightest idea how much money she had in the bank. I mentioned that she adored horses. She actually loved all animals so the checks she ordered from the bank were the Wildlife series - five different scenes, including a grizzly, a deer and her absolute favorite - a sailfish leaping out of a stream. She oohed and ahhed over the fish! So, being Debbi, she sat down with the box, tore all the fish checks out, folded them, and threw them in her large purse. (My checks were the plain blue “safety” checks because they were free.)
My sequential soul was aghast! She kept no check register. Never wrote down what she spent. Every check was a roll of the dice. If she pulled check 180 from the bag, it certainly did not follow check 179. It might well have followed check 125.
But one day she realized her bank account was perilously low when she uncharacteristically opened a bank statement. She was upset. “Roomie,” she said - (she always called me Roomie). “Can you teach me how to do my checkbook?”
I tried. But she just couldn't help but color outside the lines. She still kept the purse full of random-numbered fish checks. And she tried to keep a register but she did it her way - she liked even numbers so if the check was $2.25, she wrote down $2: if it was $2.65, it went down as $3. That was just Debbie.
We both transferred after that first year and we more or less lost touch. She contacted me a few years later to ask me to be a bridesmaid at her wedding. I accepted but the wedding ended up being called off about two months before the scheduled date. Our lives went on very different tracks, and I was delighted to catch up with her when we made the connection here 15 years ago.
I went back and re-read those initial messages and she was so excited and enthusiastic about my career and life - “Oh, I always knew you’d be a famous writer!!,” read one.
Can you imagine my surprise - and delight - when I learned what she had chosen as a career? Debbi became a successful CPA!
Debbi died last month after she sustained injuries in a horseback riding accident. I mentioned her generosity. That was true to her very last breath. She was an organ donor and once doctors determined that her injuries were so catastrophic that she could not survive, her life-saving organs were procured and given to three people. As she was taken to the operating room for the procedure, staff at Moses Cone Hospital in Greensboro, lined the corridors for an honor walk, a sign of respect and appreciation.
I had planned to attend her service today but my Covid has not quite gone away so I can’t be there in person. But I’ll be there in spirit and I will remember those special days with her. I am writing this through tears.
Jayne Gordon (Rolfe)
Debbi died March 24, 2024.
Debbi and I were roommates our freshman year in college. I wrote this about her a few weeks after she died:
Debbi and I were good roomies but it almost didn’t happen. A lot of things in my life imploded around the time I graduated from high school. I had plans to go to an out-of-state college but my father died two weeks before graduation. Plans changed quickly and I found myself at UNCC and absolutely miserable.
Debbi and I were in the same large high school class. We had one English class together but we didn’t run around in the same crowd. A friend suggested that with all the turmoil in my life, I might try to find a roommate that I knew. Specifically, it was suggested that I find someone who wasn’t a good friend but an acquaintance. Something familiar. So, I approached Debbi. She said yes, and we were off.
I got lucky. She was a sweet, open, and friendly but slightly shy person. It would have been impossible not to like her. We were very different but somehow it worked. We both had late birthdays, so we started college at 17 and were “underage”‘for the first two months of school. Frankly, we were a little overwhelmed. Debbi was passionate about horses; I was a dog person. She ate peanut butter straight from the jar with a spoon; the idea repulsed me. I was depressed; she was ditzy.
But she was thoughtful and generous to a fault. She had a lot of jewelry and she’d loan anything to anybody, no questions asked. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind that year and she would often do sweet things like bring me food from the cafeteria when I just didn’t want to leave the room.
I will share a story about Debbi that I’ve laughed about many times. And full disclosure: after we reconnected on Facebook, we both laughed about it.
Just before I started college, I opened my first checking account. I was meticulous about it. I recorded every check the moment I wrote it, subtracted it on the spot. Every line in my check register was filled in - date, check number, who the check was to and what it was for, and the amount. Every month, as soon as the statement arrived, I balanced it to the penny.
Debbi? Not so much. She marveled at my fastidious checkbook because she never had the slightest idea how much money she had in the bank. I mentioned that she adored horses. She actually loved all animals so the checks she ordered from the bank were the Wildlife series - five different scenes, including a grizzly, a deer and her absolute favorite - a sailfish leaping out of a stream. She oohed and ahhed over the fish! So, being Debbi, she sat down with the box, tore all the fish checks out, folded them, and threw them in her large purse. (My checks were the plain blue “safety” checks because they were free.)
My sequential soul was aghast! She kept no check register. Never wrote down what she spent. Every check was a roll of the dice. If she pulled check 180 from the bag, it certainly did not follow check 179. It might well have followed check 125.
But one day she realized her bank account was perilously low when she uncharacteristically opened a bank statement. She was upset. “Roomie,” she said - (she always called me Roomie). “Can you teach me how to do my checkbook?”
I tried. But she just couldn't help but color outside the lines. She still kept the purse full of random-numbered fish checks. And she tried to keep a register but she did it her way - she liked even numbers so if the check was $2.25, she wrote down $2: if it was $2.65, it went down as $3. That was just Debbie.
We both transferred after that first year and we more or less lost touch. She contacted me a few years later to ask me to be a bridesmaid at her wedding. I accepted but the wedding ended up being called off about two months before the scheduled date. Our lives went on very different tracks, and I was delighted to catch up with her when we made the connection here 15 years ago.
I went back and re-read those initial messages and she was so excited and enthusiastic about my career and life - “Oh, I always knew you’d be a famous writer!!,” read one.
Can you imagine my surprise - and delight - when I learned what she had chosen as a career? Debbi became a successful CPA!
Debbi died last month after she sustained injuries in a horseback riding accident. I mentioned her generosity. That was true to her very last breath. She was an organ donor and once doctors determined that her injuries were so catastrophic that she could not survive, her life-saving organs were procured and given to three people. As she was taken to the operating room for the procedure, staff at Moses Cone Hospital in Greensboro, lined the corridors for an honor walk, a sign of respect and appreciation.
I had planned to attend her service today but my Covid has not quite gone away so I can’t be there in person. But I’ll be there in spirit and I will remember those special days with her. I am writing this through tears.
Rest in peace, my friend.