Gov. Rose Mofford’s Rolodex was a gold mine

If I ever had trouble finding someone, I called Rose Mofford. She had the best Rolodex.

And Rose had everyone’s phone number.

The state’s first female governor started building her Rolodex during her first state job in 1940, eventually collecting more than 4,000 names, numbers, addresses and notes.

She kept the cards in three Rolodexes.

I wrote a story about Rose in 2011, and I didn’t expect to hear from her after that. But I was in her Rolodex.

We liked the same soup. We were bad with plants. (Hers were all plastic.)

Rose used to tease that if I didn’t call her, she’d take me out of her will. We’d laugh.

Things are meaningless in the end, Rose said. “It’s our relationships that add so much to our lives,” she said.

Eventually, I told her I wanted her Rolodexes.

Rose laughed and told me she was taking those with her.

When Rose died at 94 in 2016, her longtime friends Charles Stegall and Karen Scates had to decide what to do with her things.

Her official papers and 67 photo albums went to the state archives. Some personal items went to family and friends. Others were auctioned to benefit Rose’s charities.

Her wedding dress and one of her Rolodexes went to the Arizona Historical Society.

Karen asked if I would like a Rolodex. “It means something to you,” she said.

It’s the size of a basketball. But no cards inside. They were cremated with Rose.

All those notes about people’s birthdays and pets, and the things they had done to cross Rose, those are gone.

Just like she said. She took them with her.

I know it is just a thing. But the Rolodex reminds me of her, and of what was important to her — relationships.

So I’m keeping the Rolodex. I’m going to put a plant in it. A plastic one.