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Barbara A. Fox


Video Tribute to Barbara from Adam !!! Thank you, Barbara...Thank you, ADAM !!!



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Liz and Barbara 1973:


Everything I learned, I learned from Grandma Barbara. Well…almost. I learned the important tasks of whistling and skipping from Grandpa Ralph. Once in a while, my husband calls me “Little Barbara”. Although I won’t ever come close to her “radical compassion“, I proudly accept the title…once in a while. 

For me, being Little Barbara means that I stick up for myself and others. It means sharing my honest opinion with people whether or not they welcome the information. It means teaching my children to stand up for themselves. A few years back, in a Russ’s parking lot, I was in hot pursuit of cypress mulch. A man was carelessly driving the wrong way down the parking stalls. When I glanced over, he started cursing and gesturing at me. As I pulled up next to the building to load my mulch, that man was parked just in front of me loading up mulch. I walked right over to him, in front of my children and a Russ’s employee, and clearly voiced my “opinion” of what just occurred. I told him to be mindful of your actions, as you never quite know when you may see somebody next. The employee stood stunned, the man stood silent, and my children learned a lesson from Little Barbara.

I suppose being Little Barbara means embarrassing my children once in a while when they are learning life lessons. Many times as a child I stood sheepishly behind Grandma while she educated a stranger. Other times I would just wander a short distance and pretend I didn’t know her. I don’t think I ever said it out loud, but inside I thought, “Please don’t tell that woman how to correctly discipline her child in the store and proceed to invite her to a Recovery meeting” or “Please don’t strike up a conversation with a stranger in a shopping line and invite THEM to a Recovery meeting.” Now I look back and realize that just about everyone really could use a good dose of Recovery. I also find myself doing some of the things I thought were so awkward, and am sure my children are red with embarrassment, but learning all the while.

Being Little Barbara means total acceptance, and I strive for it, but it will be lifelong. Barbara accepted everyone. I remember she used to pick up hitchhikers in her green Audi Fox. I would tell her my mom probably would not appreciate it very much because it wasn't very safe. Nothing bad ever happened, and the people were so grateful for her kindness. 
In addition, being with Barbara meant that at family gatherings you could guarantee that not just family would attend. You would always find a stranger…or two…or three…at the table, and that was never a problem with us. 

Being Little Barbara sometimes means it is hard to define and limit beliefs. Growing up, I fondly remember waking up at Grandma’s after an overnight and heading over to Hope Auditorium for the Sunday Morning Meeting. That was my church. Those stories of recovery were my sermons. I still find it hard to abide by one set of rules, as I learned from her that sometimes you just have to make your own set.

Being Little Barbara means helping others however you can. Since 1962, my family has made a business of helping people but they never admitted to being “business” people. Even, at times when the business end fell short, their love for others kept them going. I am proud of the work my family has done to ensure a better way of life for so many families. I call upon every one of us to help continue the business of helping people, especially when you don’t get paid to do it.

As a child, when I used to get hurt, Grandma would do the "squeezicks machine” on whatever part of me felt bad. She would gently clasp her hands around that part of me and slowly squeeze and knead it until it felt better. May Grandma perform the “squeezicks machine” on our hearts to help heal the pain and sadness we are feeling now. May we feel a great peace, knowing she is watching over us all. If nothing else, we can feel secure knowing she will offer her honest opinion of it all to someone up there.


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The memorial service for Barbara Fox was the 29th of December 2009 at 10:30 at Calvary Methodist Church at 11th and Garfield. It is a wildly inclusive place where they more than tolerated her rebellious behavior, they loved her for it. come one, come all!  - Paige


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