Denver Mile High Rotary

DIANE MESSAMORE

Little known as well as well known facts about Diane.

By our First President Loy Dickinson

Diane was born in Utopia. Texas...2000 pop.241. (Less now, per Diane)

Gateway to the Hill Country

Her Dad was a young glider pilot in WWII.

She was never tagged with the nickname "DI"

Diane is a CU Boulder grad

and it never occurred to her to go back to Texas.

Diane & Ken have 4 wonderful offspring, all of whom live in Colorado

She has had a wonderful career as a benefits consultant.

Diane Messamore joined DMHR on November first 1990

This was the same day as worthies Jan Sandhouse Hurst and Jack Houser were inducted.

She was club secretary in the Terry Fiske administration.

Also, in the 90"s she played a key role in the fledgling DMHR Foundation.

In June of 2008, Diane represented our club at the International Convention in Los Angeles. Upon return to Denver she took the reigns of our club and proceeded to demonstrate her superior leadership talents.

DMHR is Service Club with an outstanding reputation within District 5450

and is a lively and enjoyable place for members and visitors. This result comes about from a record of strong leadership. Diane held the torch high for all to see. Wielding the gavel about 50 times a year is only the visible manifestation of this responsibility.

What goes on away from the meeting place involves reading, reports, discussion, planning, conducting board meetings, persuading, resolving differences and making decisions. This is sort of like running an enterprise - except that members are not subjects, they are volunteers.

Diane has lead us with panache, grace and good humor. To the end that Denver Mile High has enjoyed yet another excellent year delivering Service Above Self, and well deployed benefits to the community, its youth and to the greater community in many parts of the world.

Welcome now, Diane Messamore, to the exalted ranks of the

PAST PRESIDENT'S PROTECTIVE ASSOCIATION!!

Inspiration for the January 14 meeting--presented by Geoff Noble

I grew up in the '50s with very practical parents. A mother, God love her, who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then

re-used it. She was the original queen of recycling, before they had a name for it.

My father was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones. Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a city block away. I can see them now, Dad in trousers, T-shirt and a hat and Mom in a house dress, vacuum cleaner in one hand, dish towel in the other.

It was the time for fixing things. A broken curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things we keep. It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me a little crazy.

All that repairing, re-fixing, re-using. I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there'd always be more.

But then my mother died, and on that clear winter's night, in the warmth of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more. Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up and goes away...never to return.

So, while we have it... it's best we love it... and care for it...

and fix it when it's broken... and heal it when it's sick.

This is true for marriage... and old cars... and children with bad report cards... and dogs with bad hips... and aging parents... and grandparents.

We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it.

Anonymous (Found on the Internet under "Inspirational Quotes")