When Dean Gracy would enter a room and forget why or suddenly
lose a name he had known for years, he would joke with his
adopted daughter, Jill Strong, about her insulation from
the horrors of Alzheimer's disease.
"He'd always say, 'Aren't you glad you aren't going
to get it?'" Strong said. "When he got it, it
was gradual, but it wasn't a shock to us. His mother had
Alzheimer's, and so did a few of his brothers. He always
told us, if that happens to him, he wanted to go to the
veterans home."
While it's not hard for Strong to believe her father is
a resident at Third Phillips and has been since January
2002, it isn't easy by any means. Dean Gracy, by Strong's
admission, was a creature of habit, a valiant veteran of
some of World War II's most savage battles, a man who put
a face on reliability and could run numbers in his head
like a "human calculator."
He was the oldest of seven brothers, all of whom eventually
went into the armed forces. A Marine himself, Gracy served
on Guam and Guadalcanal as a transport driver, supplying
fuel for troops serving closer to battle. He enjoyed the
work so much that the Broken Bow native became the owner
and operator of a Conoco station in his hometown and dedicated
his life to the systematic delivery of fuel to rural areas.
"Work was pretty much his hobby," Strong said.
"We did get him to go fishing in Canada once, but he
wanted to get back and take care of his customers."
Gracy's rhythm of life was as predictable as the sun rising
and setting, Strong said. When he would pull into a home
with children, he would pull out packs of Juicy Fruit gum
to give the kids so they'd run to his truck and reduce the
risk of being run over.
When he got home every night, he had dinner, did the books
and had a "toddy." To this day, his routine of
50 years bleeds through his life on the ward. He'll ask
for his evening drink or worry about his customers getting
the fuel they need. In fact, with a routine like Gracy's,
it wasn't hard to spot deterioration or for the family to
make the appropriate decisions.
"He knew the back roads better than anyone,"
Strong said. "When his driving started getting bad,
we mentioned it, but he wasn't going to give up that license.
Then he had to go get it renewed, and he didn't pass the
test. That took the ball out of our court."
Strong gets to visit her father frequently on the ward,
and her grandchildren have gotten to know Grandpa Dean up
on the ward. What she hopes they understand someday is that
the man they see now is in the final stage of a life spent
serving others.
"He was always very proud and very mannerly,"
she said. "He was proud of who he was and what he did."