O P I N I O N
THE URBAN HIPPIE
By Irene Martin
I first met the woman who was going to change my life forever in early summer 2004. I had recently discovered a wonderful hobby, Letterboxing, and went to a gathering to meet other “‘boxers.” Judy was pretty new to the hobby herself and attended the same gathering. Letterboxing is a fantastic, truly one -size-fits-all hobby. There are so many facets to the hobby that people of all ages, activity levels, and family size can enjoy. This article is NOT about Letterboxing so I encourage you to go online and do some research to find out more about this wonderful hobby for yourself!
My first impression of Judy was not great. She was a bundle of energy, a great conversationalist and we seemed to have a lot in common. However she was a little more “aggressively helpful” then I was comfortable with. Okay, I’ll just say it like it is, she was bossy! I think within an hour of meeting her I had already been assigned some sort of chore and she kept all of us on our toes that weekend – a whirling dervish of activity, words, and ideas that only seemed to slow down when she was asleep. By the end of the weekend I was looking forward to not seeing her again when she walked up to me and said “So when do you want to get together and go letterboxing?” I babbled explaining that I lived far away and didn’t always have a reliable car, and any other excuses I could think of. Whatever I came up with Judy had a work around for. Finally, I just blurted out something like, “Jesus Judy, I just met you and I’m not even sure that I would enjoy hanging out with you! “And laughed a little to soften my remark. Her response was typical Judy: “Of course you will! We have a lot in common!” So I gave up on my feeble excuses and made plans to see her again within a few weeks. And thus began the friendship that would change my life forever.
Judy was one of a kind and incredibly difficult to capture in words. Although the lyrics to ” How do you solve a problem like Maria” from The Sound of Music fit really well:
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Maria?
A flibbertigibbet
A will-o’-the-wisp
A clown
She was all of these things and so much more. Judy had the artistic need to create…constantly. An avalanche of ideas, projects, classes and camps filled her retirement days. The first time I visited her Virginia house she explained that the bowling balls she had half-buried in her yard would someday be covered with broken pieces of tile and be quite beautiful. I don’t remember if Judy ever got that done before she left us. Judy started a million projects and actually completed quite a few but I’m not sure about that one.
I didn’t meet Judy until she was 60 and newly retired after 30 years with the USPS. She was a widow and a stepmom to her grown stepdaughter and grandmother to her children. Her time and money were her own. I, on the other hand, didn’t have any “extra” money. My kids were teenagers / young adults and funds were tight. After spending time together we learned we really did enjoy each other’s company and Judy had the itch to travel and the money to do so. So when she returned from a trip with a group of Letterboxers she called me and said , “I really want you to come with me next time. I’ll tell you what, if you’re willing to share a room I will pay for lodgings if you can just cover your travel expenses.” And that’s how our partnership was born. and complemented each other’s energy. We actually traveled together very well while laughing our fool heads off most of the time. In the 15 years I was blessed to have Judy in my life we visited eight different states and three foreign countries. We took one cruise together and spent countless weekends in cabins, campgrounds and Airbnbs.
While I met Judy during our mutual hobby of letterboxing she had wide and varied interests beyond that hobby. She was an expert seamstress who had studied fashion as a young woman in college (see below).
She also loved quilting and her quilts were works of art. While she knew how to make traditional quilts she also made quilts that looked like museum paintings. She went to quilt camp, went on a quilt Cruise, and won several local quilting contests. When Judy passed several of us were gifted with one of her quilts, and it’s something I’ll treasure forever.
During our years hanging out together she learned how to make genuine rosary beads out of real rose petals. She made her own enamel pins, learned hundreds of new recipes and packed her two homes to the rafters with projects in various states of completion. One of the millions of things I loved best about Judy was her passion for life. She was in it 100%, full-steam ahead. Her creative mind and bulldozer personality could often be off-putting and she would be the first to admit that she wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But I loved her and still thank my stars for bringing us together.
Besides craft supplies and houses Judy also collected people. Once Judy decided you were her friend and pulled you into her orbit things got really exciting. Judy had been picking up a few other folks in our hobby, mostly women. And after a couple outings I got to know a few of her “regulars.” I also brought a friend or two to Judy because, again, she was like no one anyone, anywhere had ever met. Sometime in 2004 she looked at her ragtag bunch of gal pals and decided we would become an official Red Hat Club. So the Red Hat Boxers were born! And boy did we quickly establish a reputation for being bad, bawdy and a hell of a lot of fun.
The Red Hat Boxers with Judy at the lead attended and hosted some incredible gatherings. Judy and I won our first ever Road Rally together and it was the first time I had ever gotten car sick, lol! Judy roaring around corners in her little red Subaru with me holding on for dear life is a memory I love to revisit. Her Red Hat Boxers became known for our Pub Crawls, I don’t remember how many or where they all were but I do remember my 50th Birthday being a good enough reason to host one in New Hope, PA. The Red Hats took a trip to Canada and met up with Letterboxers there from all over the place. Our lodgings were a retired ice-breaker ship, the Alexander Henry, and Judy’s gals had the Captains quarters. Of course the highlight from THAT trip was when the Red Hats crashed a bachelor party in a bar (aka Paul-a-Palooza) and all signed the groom’s lovely satin panties and sash. Then there was the time Judy and I worked in a tattoo shop for an afternoon. On a trip to Jolly Olde England Judy and I decided to get tattoos in a lovely village in Devon. The place was so small one of us manned the front desk and phones while the other got their ink done. In Bermuda we danced and drank away our tattoo money when we stumbled across a Grateful Dead cover band playing at the Frog & Onion Pub. I’m so grateful for these and so many more memories.
But what Judy did for me that really changed my life wasn’t the travel, although I enjoyed every minute of it and without her I would never have been able to go on any of those trips. What she gave me, gave all of her Red Hats, was true, ride or die, friends for the rest of our lives. How she picked each one of us I don’t know. Not everyone she met was invited to join the Red Hat Boxers and not everyone who joined stayed and enjoyed it like we did. A few of the faces have changed over the years but the core group still remains and Judy would be proud of us for adding new members whom I know she would have had a blast with and more than occasionally butt heads with.
That was life with Judy.
She tried to keep us organized and on time. She created maps with arrival and leave times and pins in towns. Her shower and bathroom schedule spreadsheets were legendary and a huge source of amusement to us. We often scribbled our own agendas on them just to rattle “General Judy.” It was often like wrangling 3-year-old quintuplets. Sometimes we went too far and sometimes Judy did, but we always worked it out and our bond was never broken.
One of her many trail names was “SowSewBizzy” which described her perfectly with a nod to two of her passions, gardening and sewing. The Red Hats had a blast with that one! General Judy was also SowSewBossy, SowSewDizzy and occasionally, SowSewBitchy. We tortured her and she felt like she was herding cats. I remember (more than once) Judy would say in her soft Virginia drawl, “Well if you would all just do what I say…!” Eventually we did. But we loved to give her grief about her “Natural Leadership Skills.” And she usually had a good sense of humor about it. At one gathering she even wore the outfit below and we all loved it!
As our little band of happy wanderers laughed and hiked and partied together had no clue how short our time would be with Judy. When she started feeling seriously ill she was first told it was diabetes. Which was wrong. It turned out to be Pancreatic Cancer. We were all stunned and heartbroken. Judy put on a brave face for all of us and handled each challenge with typical Judy energy and creativity. When chemo made her hair fall out she wore the most amazing crocheted headpiece. Red and Purple, of course. The official Red Hat colors. (Below)
Judy also increased her travel as much as possible while she had the energy. She was an avid Letterboxer and travelled all over the country making friends. Her final trips were her way of saying goodbye to her friends everywhere.
In the 15 years Judy and her Red Hat boxers were together we had truly become family. A sisterhood that grew from a shared hobby to sharing real life with each other. Over the years we have mourned together the loss of beloved family members of our group, supported each other during divorce and joyfully celebrated all of life’s joys like marriages, grandchildren and other happy events. But we never imagined that we would be without our General Judy. The heartbreak was real, but Judy was determined to enjoy every single minute she had left and was very matter of fact about it. At least to our faces. I had begun calling Judy “Old Mum” after our trip to England and the thought of losing her just devastated me and all of her Red Hats and friends. I remember my last trip with the group before Judy died. The gals had gone out to walk around and check out the cute little town we were in, Mt. Gretna, PA. Judy and I were resting on the porch, just taking it easy. I summoned up my courage and said “Judy…” and was about to pour my heart out to her. To thank her for her gifts of friendship, travel and my wonderful Red Hat sisters that I would never have had without Judy. But Judy stopped me by simply saying “I love you too, now that’s enough.” And I hope it was. Because that was the last time I saw her.
And Judy’s time grew short, the Red Hats were blessed that one of us, Mary Ann, was able to be there with her until the end. Mary Ann was a nurse and not working so it was a blessing for all of us, especially for Judy and Mary Ann. Someday I’ll have to interview Mary Ann for a follow-up column about cleaning out Judy’s TWO houses, one in Virginia the other in Delaware. It’s hysterical and heartbreaking. My favorite story is when Mary Ann got Judy’s old truck started and the motor was covered with old dried leaves and pine needles and caught fire and the Fire Department had to come out.
It was Mary Ann who contacted each of us to tell us Judy was gone. Typing those words still feels strange. I’ve never met anyone with Judy’s energy and spirit. She’s still such a huge part of my life and the ripples she left behind are still flowing. When I think of the woman I was in 2004 when I first met Judy and the woman I grew into by the time she passed in 2019 I am amazed. But the thing I treasure the most are the women she brought into my life. The Red Hat Letterboxers have a bond so strong it still thrives. New faces have joined our happy, yappy gang and we love and support each other closer than many sisters do.
We have an upcoming gathering in May at our favorite cabin at French Creek State Park. We all have different “Holy Relics” that we bring and put out on a table. They keep Judy as close as we can get her, while we carry on shenanigans and tomfoolery in her honor.
The hearts Judy collected and strung together can never fully thank her for the gifts of love and family that she gave us. The best we can do is keep her memory alive and tell her story to anyone who will listen. When Judy left us, she left us all better off than when she found us. How many of us can say that? So, for Women’s History Month, I lift up, on behalf of my Red Hat sisters, Judy Beigbedier. One of the most amazing humans I have ever known and someone who genuinely changed my life for the better. I was blessed to call her friend.
The Urban Hippie is a 60-something senior living in the Philly burbs. Still trying to figure out what she wants to be when and if she ever grows up. She welcomes all feedback and can be reached at ireneemartinother@gmail.com.