A fond farewell to a friend LYNN ATKINS

Way back in 2011, I finally found the Weekly

Vista office (GPS was not reliable back then) and reported for a job interview. It wasn’t like other newspaper offices that I knew. It was more like walking into someone’s family room.

There were two friendly women there, and a bowl of candy and a curious cat. Along with the job application, they passed me encouragement and advice. I understood immediately that I was going to have to hide my cat allergy. If I wanted the job — and I did — I was going to have to sneeze a little.

Barb was the owner of the cats, the creator of the friendly atmosphere and the heart of the Weekly

Vista. She had help, of course. Her friend Jan was on board, her loyal second-in-command. For 21 years Barb managed the newspaper office. She bought bottled water for reporters when it was hot and reminded them to drink it. She made sure we had a generous supply of notebooks, pens and any office supplies we thought we needed. If the office supply company offered special treats, we all split them. In Barb’s office, we could ask for extra sticky notes and they would appear. No questions asked.

There was a file drawer library where we would exchange books we liked. The first aid kit was always stocked with pain relievers and bandages. There was another drawer full of birthday party decor that was pulled out at a moment’s notice, often with a practical joke included, like toy handcuffs blocking access to a reporter’s filing cabinet.

She was happy to jump in and help us with contact information. She had her own source for addresses and phone numbers that was probably legal. And she could supply background information on any number of topics for any news reporter who stumbled into the office.

Back then, when the office was in Town Center backing up to the Country Club Golf Course, the big window into the side yard was like the nature channel. Barb bought bird seed and sometimes dog food and spread it generously for not only the birds but the squirrels and visiting possums and raccoons. One summer we watched an entire family of raccoons grow up outside that window. Another year, a doe was a frequent visitor.

Others in the office added table scraps to the wildlife buffet, but we knew that Barb was in charge of all feedings of wildlife. When something particularly interesting was in view, she let us all know and we crowded around the window to watch.

She was also the manager of a long-term service project, sending boxes to the troops. In those years, the lobby of the Vista always had a few boxes half-filled with magazines, snacks and miscellaneous hygiene products. Customers all knew and supported the project. When the boxes got full, it was all carefully packed and shipped off to a young man or woman with local ties.

The reporters’ office was just off the main office and we could hear most of what was going on. There were always regulars who came just to say hello. Barb knew all of them and they knew her. Listening from the back office was a little like a radio soap opera. She was always ready to help when customers came in just to complain about things we had no control over — like delivery.

In the few years I knew Barb, I watched as rheumatoid arthritis took its toll. And you had to watch closely because she didn’t

talk about it much. But it became more and more difficult for her to get around. She would move from the desk to counter, leaning on the nearest furniture. When she announced her retirement, we all knew that as much as we would miss her, it was the best course.

So now, I’m in that familiar place where I can only regret that I let a friendship deteriorate. There were a few attempts to get the old gang together, but Barb was sick and we were busy and it didn’t happen the way it should have. Now it’s too late.

But I do still have memories of someone who went above and beyond in spite of obstacles and snags. A memory of someone who probably didn’t know how much we valued her. Here’s to Barb

Paulos, the heart of the Weekly Vista.