In the mountains of western North Carolina sits an old, antebellum home called Kelly House. Here, retired CIA operative and octogenarian Ben Zangwell has decided to open an experimental writing commune for the elderly. Eight elderly men and women answer the call, and soon the house teems with artistic energy.
But each person has his or her personal demons to combat. There’s Sadie, who struggles with her love for her children while rejecting their religious fundamentalism; widower Gerald, who hopes to end his loneliness by being part of the group; retired social worker David, who needs to lose at least fifty pounds to keep his diabetes under control; and free-spirited Britt, who is looking for a new adventure.
The community isn’t without its adventures. Cody, a chronically homeless elder, wanders into their lives telling stories of making moonshine, while the group’s nurse, Stephen, exposes them to his world as a Cherokee Indian. But it is perhaps the love affair between Ben and Britt that consumes the group most as they try to search out the leaning of life in their twilight years.
Funny, sincere, and entertaining, Kelly House delivers an intriguing glimpse into the unique experiences of the elderly.
KELLY HOUSE
By John K. SpitzbergiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2012 John K. Spitzberg
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4759-3068-9 Chapter One
A flood of sunlight embraced the sky on the day that Gerald Janokoski and Lee Lansing were due to be released from Greentree Rehabilitation and Nursing Home in Plantation, Florida. It was exactly the kind of weather that snow birds died for. Mancini music soothed the halls of Greentree as it made its way along the corridors and into the patients' rooms. A mellow seventy-seven degrees with a cool breeze, lazy billowing clouds clear of the heaviness of impending precipitation greeted Lee and Gerald as they walked out of the facility on their own without the support of walkers or any other device to keep them from losing their balance and falling.
Gerald walked with the shuffle and slowness expected of a gentleman who had fractured his hip and was exceedingly cautious as a result of that mishap, while Lee suffering from Parkinson's disease walked with the gait and awkwardness associated with her malady. On this day though the duo forgot their ageing and infirmities and walked with purpose and determination. As they saw it, this was the beginning of a new lease on life.
Their departure was not typical because they were members of Greentree's famed writer's group which by now was highly touted at the rehabilitation center and throughout South Florida within the nursing home industry as a means of helping the elderly cope and even exceed their rehabilitation goals. Staff members, tears in their eyes, other patients and even administrative personnel lined the hallways to say goodbye and wish the two of them good luck as they embarked on their new adventure. They would be leaving soon for Asheville, North Carolina and their new home, the writer's collective for disabled elderly, Kelly House.
Still to leave Greentree forever and join the pair were David Greenberg, Sadie Goldenblum and Britt Manning, the remaining patients in the writers' group. They, too, were scheduled to make the exodus from Florida to the "promise land" of Western North Carolina and the beckoning Appalachians.
Unbeknown to the group was a reporter from the Sunshine Journal notified by his editor to find out about the commune and to do a story- if one even existed. The editor received a telephone call from a friend of a friend who worked at Greentree. She talked at length about the newly formed writer's commune made up of patients and volunteers adding with delight that there was a fresh buzz of excitement which seemed to surround the entire facility.
No one was ever able to figure out who called the press. It was only a matter of time anyway before the secret was out. Ben Zangwell, the founder of Kelly House, knew that eventually the press would become interested and want to know more the project. For many years Ben led a clandestine existence out of necessity and now things would change. He winced. It was no surprise that on the Friday that Lee and Gerald left, a reporter and photographer were present to take pictures and interview them about their future plans.
The reporter had several pictures taken and asked for a group shot of the writers with Pauline Baldwin and Ben, once fellow volunteers who had assisted them in their writing. Pauline was there to become a charter member of the new commune and would be leaving for the mountain antebellum home as a member of the commune. The reporter wanted to talk to the social worker, Jane Fine stein, who started the writer's therapy group and to get the full story. As far as the reporter knew, no commune had ever been born at a nursing and rehabilitation facility in Florida or anywhere else and no commune had ever been founded for such old people. That had to be newsworthy.
Gerald agreed to speak to the reporter about his part in the whole affair and readily gave his phone number to the reporter. He would call Gerald on Monday and pay him a visit in Coral Springs. As for Lee, he arranged to have a colleague pay her a visit in her room in Ft. Lauderdale. The reporter thought it would be a good idea to meet Lee and Pauline together since Pauline had assisted Lee in her writing. Pauline suggested that they might be a little more comfortable were they to meet in her condo in Oakland Park on A1A.
Pauline lived in opulence on the fourteenth floor of her rounded skyscraper condo with a magnificent view of the ocean and the comforts of never having to leave her building full of magnificent shopping opportunities and a mini mall on the first floor with a full gym, Versace clothing boutiques and high quality antique and collectible shops. A four star French restaurant, fine Italian dining, gourmet dining for any palate and a smorgasbord of international wine cellars provided the residence with ample reason never to leave the confines of the building. There were two such buildings connected together with a subterranean walkway and tram. For Pauline it was exactly due to this lifestyle that she felt smothered, useless and had to escape to become constructive and feel a sense of worthiness.
The weekend was a lonely and disconcerting one for David Greenberg who for the last six months or more had spent most of his waking hours with Gerald. Although he realized that they would soon be back together talking and writing, he sorely missed his pal. He spent the weekend writing notes to himself about the areas of his life that he had not covered thoroughly enough or not at all while in the writer's therapy group with Jane. These would be the first areas that he wished to examine in writing as soon as he got to the commune.
The other things that he wanted to attend to while remaining in the center were related to his rehabilitation. Stan Darling, his physical therapist and one of the occupational therapists had fashioned a splint of sorts for David to use on his right hand. He still had no feeling on his right side including the hand, but the splint did allow him to use the right hand for gross motor activities by using the left hand to maneuver the right.
David wanted to do as much as he could so that when he moved he'd be able to use the right side a little more effectively. Everyone in rehab was amazed at his determination to make it work. They could remember the days when Mr. Greenberg had all but given up and preferred death to life. Now, when they encountered him, there was camaraderie and joined purpose which made them feel worthwhile and him grateful for their hard work. Now when staff encountered him, he was a new person in their eyes as well as his own.
David was scheduled to leave the center in a week and return to Whispering Pines Village. He, too, would keep his one bedroom apartment for a year as agreed upon by the others and Ben. The agreement was that for the first year Ben would handle all costs in North Carolina and David would take care of the condo bills in Florida, a win-win plan.
Each member would have a year to decide whether communal living was right for them or not. Each writer would have a place to return to if it didn't work for them. In actuality it would be no different than what they had now when they were first hospitalized and then sent to the rehabilitation program. David saw it as an agreement in which no one would lose the security of knowing that they had a home. David reflected on Jane's words. "There are no losers, only winners." He thought back on how he used to envy her youth and cheerfulness, albeit naivety with more than a little anger and caustic cynicism. Now he, too, had reason for a new spirit of joy and hopefulness. Former President Obama's book,...
