Those who know Doris are aware of her fear of heavy traffic and high speed white knuckle driving in her senior years, so this story may be a surprise.

About 10 years ago I had a heart attack (Chest pain, paralyzed left arm, sweating like a pig) and needed to go to the VAMC Hospital for treatment. Doris, knowing about that infamous first magic hour, made me put an aspirin under my tongue, got dressed from her nightgown and slippers into street clothes and got me loaded into the passenger seat of our van in less than 4-5 minutes; in the process she called 911 and asked them to get a police escort for us via Beltline Road, I-30 East bound, Loop 12 southbound, spur 408 southbound, I-20 eastbound, Lancaster Rd. North to VAMC’s Emergency Entrance. As a veteran making VAMC my primary care provider, I had long since found that though this was ‘the long way around the shortest distance at speed limit speeds,’ that it only took 35- 38 minutes to get there using this alternate route. This route, which the 911 operator kept me talking about all the way, and about my status and reminder to take another aspirin, etc., with Dory shouting, “Where is the bleeped cop escort!!!” several times but she apparently outran the police to run as interference for our car.

My Dori made the trip to the emergency entrance in just under 20 minutes, which was the estimated ambulance response time just to come for me at home! This timid driver broke the sound barrier, I think. And she prayed most of the way out loud for God to cover us with His wings of protection for everyone she was seeing on the road around us, all the way to the hospital. 911 had given the emergency medical staff a heads up, but they were not at the entrance with a wheel chair, which Doris promptly ran inside and got for me, an attendant following willy-nilly behind her. They were astounded that she had come all the way from North Grand Prairie and arrived so quickly, he explained, as he helped me into the wheel chair, where-upon the pains got worse and I blacked out.

She had become my guardian angel that day and after being in the hands of the doctors and techs and lots of tests and medical questions answered, Doris had, without doubt, saved my life. (It took ten stents to get my heart back to 80% capacity.) Which gave my Dori ten more years to teach me kindness, gentleness, forbearance and constant love for everyone, by example. Knowing I’m still a work in progress, especially about patience. I will miss my teacher, my friend, my only fan, my loving wife with her unassuming warrior’s spirit hidden deep in the private reaches of her soul. Doris J. Richardson (Revier), you will be loved and missed for the reason above and the many other trials we shared together, for the remainder of this life.