postscript

I just want to add an excerpt of what zelda wrote about her feelings about the Communist Party after she left in the 1980s.

This is what I feel about the Party now - I was conned and I'm angry with myself for having allowed it, and even angrier with myself for suspending my disbelief and convincing myself they were acting froom the best of motives. Who are they? They are those in leading positions who knew but didn't tll me, who were dishonest. They used me. And what hurts me most is that those who I admired and put my trust in, didn't trust me - didn't give me the chance to make up my own mind how to act. They didn't allow me the proper information for me to act upon in my work in and for the Party.
I feel ashamed that even when I had doubts and when I saw for myself what was wrong, I, too, tried to find some good reason for it at first. I, too, wanted to believe. I did try to change things, but the hardliners were too entrenched. I had for a long time tried to fight against the lack of democracy within the Morning star and within the Party, but had been too foolish and hasty in my strategy and actions, and often chose the wrong allies. I was, and still am, ashamed of myself for keeping my head in the sand for so long and for turning a blind eye to so much.
But one thing I am not ashamed of - I still believe in socialism. I still believe in collective action and eschew "bourgeois individualism". Iwant a fair and just society based on equality of opportunity. My fight is still against discrimination, racism, anti-semitism, and against censorship. I still want a world where the arts are encouraged, and where each is given the opportunity to develop their talents to the full. The only problem is that I no longer know how to get it!
I comfort myself that in the work I do with older women I am at least effecting some small changes for the better, that I am at least giving support to some people so that they can develop their talents. And certainly I am stil trying to develop my own. But sometimes, in fact more often than not, I stop for a moment and think, "Who the devil am I to think I can change the world?" A short while ago I was absolutely certain that I could.

On being ill

Zelda (right) with her sister Norma (left) and cousins Cynthia and Mona, in the garden of the residential care home where she spent the last 7 years of her life.

Pride comes before a fall. All my life I had taken pride in my good health. Until I was in my forties i had never had anything other than the usual childhood maladies. But then I began to have gynaecological problems. They were finally resolved by having a hysterectomy, from which I recovered quickly and easily and had not further health problems. I expected, therefore, to tay active and well to a very old age.
I had never been one to dwell on ill-health, and indeed felt little sympathy toward those who complained of aches and pains. I didn't find other people's illnesses easy to contend with. Then Parkinson's disease struck me and now I have more understanding of others' suffering.
Jerry died in October 1983 and by the end of that same year my hand started shaking in the familiar parkisons manner of pill-rolling. When I went to see the neurology consultant, the clinic was full of long-term sufferers, the sight of whom made me fearful of my own future. Many could only shuffle along with heads bowed down and expressionaless faces. Others were in wheelchairs with head and limbs shaking and writhing, mouths oen and dribbling. in one sense seeing the worst early on was to the good. It made me more determined to make the most of what active life I had left. It made me face up to reality with no false hopes.
At first I decided not to take the pills offered me because I realised the amount of time they could effectively help me was finite. The later I started on them the longer I could be helped, so I struggled on. It was not long, however, before I realised that I could not type well enough any more and that was essential for my work. My fingers became clenched and would not work properly. My handwriting got smaller and smaller and almost impossible to read. i gave in and took the pills. Their effect was almost miraculous. They did not help my handwriting but they did free my clenched fingers and to a certain degree controlled the shake. Unfortunately there were side effects, a feeling of queasiness, nightmares, and an odd but painful effect on my toes. I suffered badly with cramp and my big toe tended to shoot up stiffly.
I joined the Parkinsons Disease Society and was asked to start a local group for Islington and Hackney sufferers. With their help a venue was found and we got ourselves organised, having speakers on subjects related to our problems. But I found that such a group was more helpful to the carers than the sufferers, who were no longer able to benefit either from the information or the socialising. Confined to their wheelchairs, and with their senses impaired, they found little pleasure from others' company it seemed. For the women carers, however, it was a night out. We laid on transport for them and gave them light refreshments. They were able to shar experiences with the other carers and enjoy a chat quite happily. there was only one woman sufferer beside myslef, and she was cared for by her son.
As a new sufferer I could find little help from such a group and, in fact, it made me feel depressed, so I left it in the good hands of the society and soe of the carers. But that experience gave me an insight into the problems and needs of carers, which I put to good use o the Islington Carers Committee.
Partly to put myself more at ease and partly to make others more aware of the disease, I always inform an audience, if I am speaking in public, that I am a Parkinsons sufferer. Doing that has enabled people to come up and ask me questions or to tell me of some of their relatives who suffer from the disease. Some young women have even asked me to meet with their mothers who are sufferers and are very depressed. They hope that I can talk them out of it.
I have tried not to allow parkinsons to stop me from any activity. I walk and swim and try to remember to do some exercises each evening. When alone I do quite a lot of dancing to tapes I like, or to Top of the Pops. But I get very tired and very stiff after a lot of exertion. It can be quite painful and i have to admit I get a little depressed at times. I keep going as much as I can and on the whole it hasn't interfered too much with the way I like to live, but the future does worry me.
Recently I joined in the hospital's experiment with some different pills. Initially their control of the shake was remarkable and I was very happy despite the greater side effects of sickness, bad dreams, cramps and writhing. My friends had a good giggle when I told them what I dreamed - the nightmare was that I was in bed with a young lover and was just about to climax when the door was flung open and my two daughters appeared. My daughters tell me not to worry as they would approve not disapprove. When I asked what nightmares others had, I was told they usually dreamed of savage animals.
Now however, my body's response to that new drug is not as good as before. I realise i have to be grateful for small mercies, but it is hard to live with no real hope for a good future.
No hope? Well, people are always trying to comfort me with tales of new cures being found and alternative treatments that can help. The one thing that the doctors and consultants have made me understand is that they know very little about Parkinsons and that each sufferer is unique in syptoms and response to treatment. In general medicine is a hit and miss business, not an exact science. They do not even know the cause of Parkinsons, though they now think it may be environmental.
The pills they give me try to replace the natural dopamine lost to my body through certain brain cells dying. That controls some of the symptoms but does nothing to stop the disease's course. I am lucky in that my deterioration is slow. However, there is one treatment suggested for the terrible cramps I suffer which I can approve of. Quinine is the prescription but the doctor says that tonic water is the best form to take it in - and especially with a little Gin in it. Can't be bad.

[Comment from Sue - Zelda carried on coping with the disease into her late seventies but increasingly fell over, often injuring herself badly. The pills she took brought on hallucinations and her mental health began to suffer. She moved for a while to live with my sister Joan, and then with her friend Stan, but they both realised that the unequal struggle of caring for her, when she barely slept at night and could not tell hallucination from reality, was beyond them. With great regret, we found a residential care home for her in 2005 and she ended her days there.]

The pensioners movement

Zelda with Stan Davison, long term friend and "comrade-in-arms" in the pensioners movement

When I finally retired from paid work, I walked into the office of the Greater London Pensioners Association (GLPA) to sign on the dotted line and casually asked if there was any way I could help. I had to open my big mouth! Hardly had the word "help" left my lips than I was told I was unanimously elected Treasurer. Their idea of that job was not the conventional honorary one. I did the Income Tax, kept the books, helped run a bazaar and jumble sales and became their fundraiser. They had just lost their funding when I came on the scene and Harry Mundy, their President, was desparately anxious. Together we decided to make an appeal to the Trades Union movement, and the GLPA memberhsip rose to the task magnificently. They followed up our written appeals with verbal pressure at their branches and the response was very good. Others, out on street corners in all weathers with their petitions against welfare cuts, called for donations and we were pleased to see that young people, in particular, gave us their support.
These efforts kept us going while we continued putting the pressure on the London Borough Grants Committee to restore our grant. The fight was long and hard and at one memorable meeting the Committee's vote was a tie. The Chairman then used his casting vote - against us! Undaunted we hung in there until a change of political power in one Borough gave us the certainty of a vote for restoring our grant. Once that was achieved, and we were more financially secure, I resigned as Treasurer.
[Stan told me a funny story of how Zelda tried to resign as treasurer, but the secretary of the group died and the Chair was very ill. Zelda thought it would be impossible to resign under these circumstances, at which point Stan said "The lengths they'll go to to keep you as Treasurer!"]
I had found the lack of in-depth discussion of policy very frustrating and felt it was absolutely necessary to make time to think anew, in the light of changing times, about the different needs of pensioners, and to examine the possibilities of new methods of campaigning and of new allies to be wo. I was certain, too, that all ages needed to discuss together the future of the welfare state.
Having joined the "Democratic Left"(DL) I spoke to some of the members about my concerns and was pleased to find that some of the members had been thinking along the same lines. It was decided to try to develop a discussion group made up of all ages, which would examine thoroughly all the different arguments around pensioners issues. Once set up it was called AgeSpan (a name thought up by Stan Davison, its present Chairman), and its aims to challenge the age discrimination so rife in our society. But the major part of my time is devoted to working with older women through AGLOW (the Association of greater London Older Women). It has been rewarding to see the way the work has empowered some of the most disadvantaged older women and encouraged their talents to bloom. The variety of work is mind-boggling; from conferences on the issues of physical and mental health, housing, transport and education;self-defence and assertiveness;drumming, dancing, and drama. We helped women in Hackney to write and publish a book on the experience of Caribbean women coing to Britain; helped a woman in Brent set up a self-help group for those suffering from depression;and brought together older refugee women to discuss their health issues. We are now lobbying MPs for legislation against age discrimination and we are involved with European older women's groups.

on being a widow

zelda and jerry on holiday in france 1962

after all the mad political whirl, here's a bit more about zelda's personal life

Jerry had been happy that Saturday morning. He had been running a fund-raising stall at Friends’ House and just as we were packing up to go for lunch he had a heart attack. Whisked quickly off to the Whittington hospital, he recovered well enough by Tuesday for Sister to tell me he could go home by the weekend. Yet by 3.30 the next afternoon he was dead, from another massive heart attack. It was such a shock to me that I became very angry and screamed at the doctor “How could it happen? You told me he was better.” The doctor kept repeating over and over, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Thus I became a widow. My daughters, my sister and my friends rallied round, but despite this cushioning, I knew I would have to face up to the problems ahead some time. People warned m of the loneliness ahead and advised me to keep busy to counter it. But loneliness is not the prerogative of the widowed. The harsh truth is that most couples live together in shared loneliness, in shared busyness that keeps them from facing it. They remain together whatever the quality of their relationship, clinging to the warmth and comfort of any human presence, unable to face a lone existence. [Although this is written in a general way, I am sure Zelda is talking about herself and her own marriage here.]

From that knowledge I drew the strength to live alone. And soon I found I was enjoying the freedom of having my own space and of not having to be responsible for another’s happiness or comfort. I gave myself permission to be selfish, to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, but I have to admit I haven’t managed it yet.

One problem you face when widowed is dining out alone. It takes a lot of courage to walk into a restaurant by yourself, and, as it that isn’t enough; you then have the waiter lead you to a small table right at the back, in a dark corner, where you won’t be seen. The final insult is then they serve you quickly, so that you can be pushed out fast, or else ignore you.

You become very aware that couple friends don’t seem to like odd numbers at their dining table, so if you do get invited, you are likely to find yourself coupled with some quite inappropriate character. And then, when it’s time to leave, everyone tries to get out of giving you a lift home. What an embarrassment you are to them all.

I know several widows who have rushed foolishly into a second marriage just to acquire status again or to avoid that moment when you shut the door and you’re alone. Personally I savour the moment more and more. I may talk back to the television or dance alone to the radio, but I am enjoying myself on the whole.

Holidays were a problem at first. But I was saved from having to worry about that for a while by my daughter Joan, who took me off to Tunisia for a week and by the Jempson family, who took me under their wing and whisked me off to Malta. But I couldn’t expect them to be there for me all the time. After 39 years of marriage and shared holidays it was difficult, even a year after Jerry’s death, to venture forth alone. I gave it a lot of thought and decided a coach trip might be the answer, so I booked for a week’s tour of Andalucia.

My coach companions were mainly couples, but there were also three women on their own and an American man, Harry, with his student son. By the first lunch stop in Jerez, Harry asked me if I would care to join him and his son for lunch. For the rest of the trip we were constant companions. At that time he was 66, just the same age as Jerry would have been and though Harry was a Jewish New Yorker from the Bronx, I was surprised to find how similar his background was to Jerry’s.

We had much in common, from the books we liked, the community work we did, and the politics we shared. He had been head of the New York family services department and was now lecturing in a community college on social work.

We had a good week together. Each night we danced and by day we talked together without pause. At the week’s end we were quite sad to leave each other. He had another week’s holiday left in Spain. But on returning home via London, he knocked on my door and before I had time to say “hallo”, he was propositioning me.

He told me how much he missed me in his second week in Spain, and begged me to go with him to New York. Flattered and greatly tempted by his invitation I said I would think about it. Later I did take u his invitation, but it took only three days of living with him to be sure – quite, quite sure –that I could never live with anyone again. I valued my independence too much. I left New York and went home, happy in the knowledge I would be living alone. But harry did not give up easily. He pursued me, and each year for about four years, he visited me. To this day we still correspond.

Naturally there are times when living alone becomes lonely living. It is then I feel most grateful for the wonderful friendship, understanding and support I get from my friends. I can count on them too, for constructive criticism and help to find my way through problems. My daughters are still a great source of pride and pleasure for me, and my grandchildren give me great joy. I am very close to my sister and to some of Jerry’s family, so I am not short of people to turn to when sad.

Most of the time I’m far too busy working (both paid and unpaid) to have much time for feeling sorry for myself. I’m certainly never bored. There always seems to be a new avenue opening up for me whenever I feel I’m getting stale, always a new challenge. Life is good to me.

older women - an article

I am not sure this is part of the memoir, but it gives a bit more detail of work with the older women's project.

When I was 59 I decided to change career from being a journalist to becoming a community worker and I found a job in Camden working with older people. Part of my job was to give support to the Camden Pensioners Action Group where I soon noticed that although at least 80% of the members were women, guess who held all the positions of power in the group? Yes, men. So, with the support of my team and central office, I set about getting funding from the GLC to set up an older women's project, which is now, 11 years later, still flourishing and called AGLOW, the Association of Greater London Older Women. We are still only funded to work in London. In Britain as a whole there are 7 million women aged over 60, 7 million citizens who have been rendered iinvisible and whose voices have been silenced by the ageism and sexism in our society. The contribution made by older women to the economy through their unpaid work in the home, as childminders within the extended family, as volunteers staffing charities, as the carers and good neighbours, goes unrecognised. Our society devalues age, it devalues women once they are past child-bearing, child-rearing days. This combination of ageism and sexism means that little heed is paid to older women, low priority is given to their needs and too little research is done into the specific issues that affect their lives. Is it any wonder then that they also suffer low self-esteem and have low expectations when they have been so marginalised? Especially when you learn that only 17% of women retire on a full basic state pension, 80% of all lone women over 60 live in poverty, 60% over 65 have a long-standing illness or disability and around 700,000 people over 65 suffer from dementia, the vase majority of them being women. The women now aged 70 are of a generation that suffered from the negative social attitudes towards the education of women. Many of them left school at 14 and they feel the lack of education has rendered them powerless. The empowerment of disadvantaged older women is one of the main aims of AGLOW. In the workshops that we organise, older women share their experiences, explore their personal and collective needs and determine action to take to fulfill them. We try to increase their confidence. Last year we convened an older women's conference on Community Care and around 80 women shared their experiences as users. One of their main conclusions was that there is a need for more information. Whilst information is available it does not seem to reach the eople who need it most, and information is the key to proper choice. The complexity of the assessment process for Community Car worries them too and especially the questions about their finances. Older people have bad memories of means testing. But most complaints were about the charges for services now. They are finding some of the services they need are too expensive. Chiropody and eye tests are examples. Because of this, certain eye problems, like glaucoma, are not being picked up. They are also concerned about those with mental health problems. Older women are rarely given access to "talking treatments", psychotherapy groups and counselling. They find themselves fobbed off with tranquilisers and anti-depressants. Through AGLOW we have set up some self-help support groups for older women suffering depression. But the awful reality is that more older women are becoming drinkers and are sleeping rough in the streets.
Everyone wanted more information on the complaints procedure and it was stressed that some older people worry about complaining, so they need advocates. A complaint we often hear is that people from black and ethnic minority communities are still not getting culturally appropriate forms of support in many areas, and lesbians are discriminated against in residential homes. The high cost of nursing homes is also a real worry and the fear that they will have to sell their homes and have nothing to leave for their family. [It is ironic that Zelda herself had to sell her home to pay for care and that nearly all the money she had went to the pockets of shareholders in a private care provider!]
User involvement in decision making is always a point of issue. Whilst attempts have been made, user involvement remains more in the wish than in the reality. The users should be involved in the monitoring of services. On housing, the important points raised were the long waits for transfer, the need for more emergency housing for sufferers of violence, because the incidence of elser abuse is very high. There is also the need to carefully monitor conditions in residential homes. And for women to be able to stay in their own homes, they need help with repairs, decoration, odd jobs, window cleaning and gardening. Transport availability and the continuation of the free travel pass are also very important issues for older women.
After that conference, AGLOW arranged a meeting of around 40 of the women to meet women MPs in a committee room of the House of Commons to discuss their concerns. We have also spoken separately to Clare Short. Now that Tessa Jowell has taken over from Clare Short we are arranging another meeting with her at the House in December to lobby for legislation against age discrimination. [Clare Short and Tessa Jowell were both ministers in the 1997 labour government - RIP!] This is blatant in the NHS with operations, screenings and treatment being denied to older women. The ongoing work that AGLOW does is to run courses on assetiveness, self-defence, computer courses and How to produce a newsetter. But we're not all work and no play - we also have had drama sessions, drumming classes, belly-dancing, keep fit and reminiscence workshops. We want women to be able to live life to the full, to fulfill their otential. Towards this aim, AGLOW also works with the Older Women's Education Group. We organise 3 or 4 study days in a year and the most recent one was on relationships. We have also taken ourselves into Europe for campaigning through the Older Women's Network, Europe, which was set up last summer. Through that we sent a representative to Beijing for the International Women's Meeting.

[I think Zelda was about 73 when she wrote this. Being 64 myself now, it is interesting to see if anything has changed for older women. I think many things have, but there is still the looming problem of care in later life, and whether the services will be there and be affordable - especially as in the UK our government is determined to turn back the clock of the national health service to 1945!]

Working among older people

Below, Zelda speaking at older people's forum, and above, at Grey Power workshops drumming and Indian dancing.


After leaving East End News life took anothe twist, pushing me ino a new area of work. Somebody somewhere must love me, as they say, because yet again I landed on my feet in a very interesting job and with some very fine colleagues. In November 1981 I became one of the four-woman team of Camden Task Force, a voluntary sector organisation working with older people. My team mates were nicky Jane and Susan and when I was first introduced to Nicky she showed me the double headed axe hanging from her silver neck chain and asked if I knew its significance. Not wishing to show ignorance I just nodded. however, it didn't take me long to realise that she was a lesbian. The four of us became good friends and we often would go out together to try out a new restaurant for dinner. The table talk spanned feminism, homophobia and party politics, interspersed with friendly gossop about other Task Force staff in other local boroughs. We met up with them regularly at staff meetings and union meetings. They were a lively bunch.
I worked in Area 1 and 2 of Camden which took me from Kings Cross to Swiss Cottage and most of the time I walked to my visits to housebound pensioners or to groups and luncheon clubs. We had an office care and a bike but I couldn't drive and I found London traffic terrifying when I ventured on the bike.
Our tasks involved making sure the older people in our patch had the information and the services esential for their independent living. We encouraged them to join social and camaigning groups, organised health courses, tarted up yoga classes and set up reminiscence groups. We also encouraged young people from the local schools to befriend an elderly person who was housebound, and facilitated discussions in the schools on ageism. At one school I was talking to 11 year olds about the stereotypes of older people and mentioned that many young people thought that old people were no longer secually active. Straightaway a boy's arm shot up, I nodded toward him and he said, "Please Miss, my grandma's never had sex!"
What first attracted me to the job at Task Force was their emphasis on self-help groups and collective ways of working in teams. I was not disappointed either in the work or in my team. I found our weekly team meetings both helpful and interesting. There were always new ideas to discuss. I had a lot to learn and especially about the gerentological philsophy underpinning the work we did. New ideas were permeating the voluntary sector and affecting the ways of working. Language was changing, too. No longer was patronising behaviour or language to be tolerated and we were challenging the too prevalent dismissal by some doctors of the treatable complaints of older women with the phrase "it's your age". They fobbed them off with sleeping tablets. Still today there are those who have no time to treat older people as human beings, and others, too, who want to fit them into a mould they can work with more easily. As one woman complained: "I dread being forced to sing music hall songs and wear a paper hat while I drink my tea." Changes don't come quickly or easily and still too often they are treated like children.
We worked with Pensioners' Action Groups and in Camden the Pensioners' Liaison Committee was set up to meet regularly with an officer fro the Social Services Department, and a councillor on the Social Services Committee, to tell them what the pensioners said they needed. Their persistence influenced the Council to give much-needed special services to some of the frail elderly people. The Liaison Committee was the forerunner of today's Local Forum.
Inevitably changes began to affect the Task Force itself. A new director decided it needed a new image and therefore a change of name. Thus it became Pensioners Link and I was asked to set it up as a membership organisation with a quarterly magazine called Link Up. Then I was given fund-raising responsibilities to enable us to expand our work. I true "Pensioners Link" fashion, representatives of each team worked on applications to the GLC for new projects, such as the two successful ones, the Health issues of Black and other inority ethnic communities and an Older Women's project. The one worker on this latter project was Pam, who launched it with a weekend festival for older women. With hard work and showing great initiative she made it into a successful project. I was on the Working Group right from the start, and later, when Pam moved on, I becae the worker and have been associated with the project ever since. It is now autonomous and renamed AGLOW - the Association of greater London older women -[Zelda herself coined this title], of which I am the Chairperson.

Comment from Sue - Zelda was writing this in the early 1990s, but I am pleased to say, that long after she ceased her own involvement, the project still thrives and many women from the project attended Zelda's funeral and still remember her fondly.

North London Older Women's Group

In the ate 70s the London Conference of the Women's Liberation Movement decided to hold a workshop for older women. Intrigued, I decided to attend. The first surprise was to find women in their early thirties there. Hardly old, I thought, so I asked them why they were attending. Their first answer was that they felt they had very different problems from younger feminists because they were already in steady relationships and had children. "The younger feminists don't want to talk about babies," they said. Their other concern was about the menopause - it was the end of life, they thought. An interesting discussion ensued.
Inspired by that workshop, a few of us who were over 50 decided to continue meeting to discuss our attitudes to ageing. We met regularly for a few months but over the summer holidays the group disbanded. As I had found it a mind-expanding and enjoyable experience, I decided to advertise in Spare Rib for older women to contact me if they wished to meet with other women their own age for discussion. Ten of us eventually settled down together to explore our feelings about ageing and to discuss feminist issues.
We talked of personal problems;exchanged experiences of loves and life;raged at sexism;laughed at men's conceits;supported the abortion campaign; and demonstrated at Greenham. Being working women, many of the problems we brought to the group were work oriented: the lack of promotion; the sexism and ageism we encountered; the someties problematic relationships with our colleagues because of our age; and the difficulties of getting a job at our age. And as most of us were mothers, the fraught relationships with our children were sometimes a subject of discussion, but as one of the group who did not have children herself complained, we tried to respect her feelings.
I sometimes felt we were bending over backwards to accommodate all the wishes of the members, to make us all feel comfortable within the group. I later found out that one woman felt intimidated by some of us; some felt the discussions lacked structure and depth;others felt there was too much structure; one felt like an observer - and they were the ones that stayed with us! Others felt the group had seen them through a difficult period of their lives and they could now move on - so they did. Some of us would have liked the group to be more study-oriented.
A highlight in our early days together was when we were invited in 1983 to produce a half hour film for the Open Space programme on BBC2 television. We called it "Invisible Women" and it was inspired by an article written by Flo Keyworth, a journalist on the Morning Star. We explored the virtual invisibility of older women in the media; why they were the butt of male comedians' humour; why they are portrayed as feeble and dimwitted; and why, if they have relationships with younger men, they are mocked, when older men are applauded for their affairs with young women. The Times review amused us. It said, "This passionate little film may have echoed at times with rather silly overstatements but only male bigots could deny the truth of its main contentions". The Daily Express commended us for "hanging on to our good humour as we discussed with frankness and insight the problem of ageing in a man's world." [Zelda doesn't mention that she commissioned me to write and perform the songs featured in this programme - just had to get that in!]
After that success I did a number of other TV programmes. One I particularly enjoyed doing was on the "representation of women in advertisements for washing powder over the past 20 years", which was filmed in a launderette in Bloomsbury. Another one I did was on education and, more recently, a film was made of my visit to Philadelphia to meet Maggie Kuhn and the Gray Panthers.
It is with some pride that I tell you that the Older Women's Group kept together for over 12 years.