She walked into my life more than 50 years ago and was still going strong until she died

Some people walk into your life for a specific reason, and after the task is complete, they simply stay. That’s the way it was with Lydia Anne Everett Walker. She walked into my life and stayed for more than 50 years. Then, she went out of my life just as she came in — quietly, friendly and without any fanfare.

Lydia was born April 7, 1921, to Johnny Aaron “Cat-man” and MoAnn Everett in Goulds in south Dade, as it was known then. She died April 4, just shy of her 103rd birthday, with her husband Leroy next to her, as he had been for the past 69 years, and her dedicated niece and caregiver/daughter Denise Murphy (whom they adopted) by her side.

I don’t remember exactly when Lydia walked into my life. But I remember a specific time, back in 1972, when she was a nurse at Jackson Memorial Hospital and called me to let me know about a famous patient. It was Congressman Adam Clayton Powell Jr., the famed New York politician.

“If you want to interview him, you should come now and don’t announce who you are. Just go up to his room. If you are stopped, don’t say how you got the information,” she advised.

And so, I went. The congressman had been flown in from his Bimini home the night before. He was suffering from prostate cancer. I went up to the floor where he was. His room door was slightly open, and I walked in quietly. The congressman was sitting on the side of his bed, rocking back and forth. The room was warm, and I could tell he was in a lot of pain.

I introduced myself and told him I would like to interview him. He was polite but said he didn’t feel up to it at the time. He said he would gladly give me an interview when he was feeling better. I nodded and reached out to shake his hand. He held out his hand, smiled and thanked me for being understanding. I never got the interview. The congressman died two weeks later.

A year later, Lydia called to tell me her dad, “Cat Man,” had passed. He was a well-known Goulds pioneer and I was assigned to write his obituary.

Her dad, she told me, was the unlicensed “doctor” in the community. He also was a grave digger, a farmer and trapper. She said he got the nickname “Cat Man” because he used to hunt wild cats back in the in the day. Her mother, MoAnn, was an unlicensed “nurse” who cared for the sick and elderly and collected money to bury them when they died.

Lydia was unlike any woman I have ever known. She was brilliant and curious and went about her life racking up careers and honors like it was the natural thing to do. I loved listening to her stories — and there were many.

Watching her parents care for the poor was why Lydia said she wanted to become a nurse. With little money, Lydia devised a plan to finance her dream of going to college.

She was the valedictorian of her 1939 graduating class from Goulds Elementary/Junior/Senior High school (which later became Arthur & Polly Mays Conservatory of the Arts). That same year, she entered Overtown’s Sunlight Beauty School, where she received a diploma in cosmetology in 1941.

After working for several years as a hairdresser and picking up several certificates, including a certificate in advanced hair styling from Madame C. J. Walker’s Beauty College in Chicago, Lydia’s dream of becoming a nurse still loomed large. In 1944, near the end of World War II, Lydia enlisted in the U.S. Women’s Army Corps (WAC), following her sister Ruby.

In 1951, Lydia re-enlisted in the Army, where she met her husband Leroy, and entered the U.S. Army’s Medical Field Service School in San Antonio, Texas, becoming an occupational therapist.

The U.S. Army was still segregated when Lydia re-enlisted. The white enlisted women had beauty salons on base to take care of their personal needs.

“We Blacks had to find beauty salons off base in the Colored section of town to get our hair done,” Lydia once told me. “Often, there wasn’t enough time for us to take care of our personal needs and get back to base on time.”

One day, Lydia approached her superior officer and laid out the problem. “I asked for an empty barrack that we could set up as a beauty salon for the Black WACs,” she told me.

Soon after, Lydia was in business.

She said she saved the money she earned from her Army beauty salon business, and with the money she received from the Army, she was able to attend Florida A&M ‘s School of Nursing. In 1957, she graduated magna cum laude with a bachelor’s of science degree in nursing education.

Lydia went on to have many more careers, including becoming the first African American nursing supervisor at Jackson in 1965; the first African American nursing instructor at Miami-Dade Community College’s practical nursing program in 1969; and the education coordinator at a Jackson pilot program that prepared nursing assistants who had more than 10 years of experience, to become practical nurses and registered nurses. Other hospitals later adopted the program.

She also established the first licensed funeral home in Goulds, founded and managed the South Dade Community Credit Union, and in 1993, hosted a breakfast in her home for Gov. Lawton Chiles and his entourage.

It seems that Lydia never retired. She was always doing “something.” One of her favorite things to do was to play the card game Pinochle. She held weekly tournaments, becoming known as the “Queen of Pinochle” when she was nearly a century old.

I am glad I was able to visit with her and her husband Leroy, to hold her hand one last time.

Services for Lydia will include a viewing from 3-7 p.m. April 18 at Richardson Funeral Home, 4500 NW 17th Ave., and from 3-7 p.m. April 19 at Mount Pleasant Baptist Church, 11591 SW 220th St. in Goulds. Funeral services will be at 11 a.m. April 20 at Mount Pleasant.