As a tribute to Anne, we've chosen to place this on our NAGEC page in the form of a letter to her from me on behalf of all those in the GEC network who had the pleasure of working with Anne. The photo above was taken of Anne on January 21, 1998, on the occasion of her being named a HRSA Employee of the Month. It will serve as an abiding reminder of our Anne.

Dearest Anne:

All of us who were fortunate to have known you would address this letter this way, because you were the dearest of friends. And you should know how saddened all of us were, and still are, when we learned that you died: Alas, while the world has lost another kind and gentle person, the universe has gained another good soul: such is the circle of life.

For some of the new GEC folks who didn't know you all that well, they would be interested to know that you were a 1957 Phi Beta Kappa graduate of the University of Rochester who later took a master's degree in gerontology from GWU in 1986 - showing us that lifelong learning is important. Your Fullbright Scholarship to Yugoslavia led to your coming to Washington in the early 60's as an international economist on East European labor issues with the U.S. Labor Department's Bureau of Labor Statistics.

My wife and I fondly recall the lovely dinner we had with you in Budapest in 1993 at that wonderful restaurant high in the hills overlooking the Danube that separates old Buda from Pest. It was there, that you told us how you were sent to Prague, Budapest and elsewhere for the trade shows the Labor Department had assigned you to cover. What an interesting life you led before moving into the field of aging. And there you were: right back in Eastern Europe at the World Congress of Gerontology - showing us again that learning doesn't stop and interests can change.

When we did the GEC Workshops in Washington, you were so helpful to us in using the "Arts in Aging" theme at the Phillips Collection. In fact, it was you who first told me about the Phillips, now my favorite museum. Anne, you were a lover of the arts, but more importantly, a lover of humankind - young and old. And like Calder's mobiles which had never before existed until he invented them to be nothing more than a delight to those who marveled at them, you, too, were a unique being whose purpose was to delight those who knew you.

You were the epitome of the dedicated public servant who exemplified Horace Mann's exhortation to the 1859 class at Antioch College when he told those graduates to be ashamed to die before they did something for humanity. The father of American education would have been proud of what you did for humanity during your life.

Your life also reminds one of what John Wesley said in one of his sermons to those early Methodists: "Do all the good you can, for as many as you can, for as long as you can." The good reverend would also have been proud of you.

And when someone special like you dies, I always recall having seen something remarkable in an issue of the Lancet: it was a reprint entitled "Epitaph of a Successful Country Doctor." The article gave the name of this kind physician who died in the late 1600's, under which were these words: "He died in the loving arms of his family, he died in the belief that his God would save his soul, and he died in the fair renown of all those were knew him." Substitute the feminine pronoun, and this could be said of you. For you, Anne, were a successful person. Indeed, each of us would be fortunate to be remembered as we are remembering you.

Anne, this letter could go on for much longer, but please know that while you're gone, you will never, ever be forgotten. Who could forget your warm smile and how quick you were to laugh, and how cheery you were - rooms brightened when you entered them. Also, please know that what you accomplished with the GECs has positioned us to keep up the good fight so that countless older Americans who may never hear about you will, nevertheless, have a better old age because of you. Anne, thanks for the memories. We love you.

On behalf of your GEC friends, your friend,

Bob Roush