Nelda Stewart

Nelda was born in Port Angeles, Wash., on March 16, 1924, to Glen and Leona Brown. She and her older brother, Ken, became constant companions, and they were soon joined by Charlie. The family lived a happy life on Glen’s little trick farm, and he provided well for them, marketing produce and dairy products until the Great Depression struck. Hard choices had to be made when they lost the farm; while they decided which possessions they could keep for their new home and what must be left behind, Nelda tearfully asked, “Can we take baby brother Charlie? He isn’t paid for either.”

When she started school, her teacher sent first-graders to the basement to play while concentrating on the upper grades. From the poor beginning, Nelda found school difficult and opted to leave after completing the eighth grade. It didn’t lessen her desire or ability to learn, and we who celebrate her life today would award Ph.D.s in life, love and faith in Christ, and pure Generosity.

The road was not easy — 9-year-old Nelda adored her father, and she said even in her last days that his death was the worst loss in her life. When uncle lifted her to view Glen in his casket, she was totally traumatized and carried from the room screaming.

After some time, her mother married a widower, Frank O’Gallagher. He was a “union man” and on strike. The company prevailed over the union and, Frank could not bring himself to return to work for lower wages. He and Leona took baby Charlie and set out for Montana, where Frank owned 40 acres. Nelda and Ken were left in the car of Glen Brown’s brother and his wife “until things get better, and we’ll send train tickets."

Train tickets arrived two years later, but the youngsters’ hopes for Montana were soon dashed. Things were not better. Their new home was a dark, drafty log cabin. Frank was not a good provider, not ambitious, perhaps because he was 10 years older than he had told Leona when they married. There was never enough food, and they lacked warm clothing. Nelda froze her feet that winter. Typical depression survivors, they “did without” and carried on as best they could.

A new baby brother, Dennis O’Gallagher, arrived. Dennis was Frank’s only blood-son and naturally became the apple of Frank’s eye. To their credit, the Brown kids embraced Dennis completely and made no distinction. Nelda took the little man into her heart and cared for him as if he were her own. Frank never bonded with his stepchildren. They took care of themselves as best they could, and each left home at the earliest opportunity.

Nelda took her leave a few days shy of her 18th birthday. She married a lumberjack, Ivan Everhart, and 15 months later, their daughter, Carolyn, was born. Only three months into fatherhood, Ivan was struck by a “widow-maker” while skidding logs. He succumbed to head injuries after three days in the Libby hospital. Nelda was left to start over again with only memories, the 89 cents found in Ivan’s packet, and 3-month-old Carolyn. The Everhart family let them live in a cabin they owned until Nelda’s brother, Ken, came home from World War II and became the breadwinner.

When Carolyn was 3, Nelda married Walt Stewart; she made a fine choice. They made a good pair. Both were quiet, even shy. Both had dealt with disaster. Walt had lost a hand at age 17 in a sawmill accident. Yet, he never let it slow him down. Against any challenge, at work or play, Walt proved he could do anything a two-fisted man could do, tie his shoes, whittle a chain out of a solid piece of wood, or give a smart aleck a ride in a wheelbarrow. He became a legend.

Nelda and Walt moved to 80 acres he bought from his Dad, moved into a humble shack and made it a loving castle for three decades. They had a son, Richard when Carolyn was 5. Both children speak of their growing up “on the ranch” as a magical time and place. There were hard times, but always enough to eat and a cozy bed to sleep in, even if the blankets froze to the wall in winter. Love ruled in their home, even after the shack was replaced by a small sturdy house. When Walt was diagnosed with cancer, and they were forced to sell the ranch and move to Bonners Ferry, Idaho, Nelda nursed him to the end; he passed away at home in 1976 at age 64. Nelda started all over again.

She began doing day care in her home and charged $1 an hour — for 17 years. By 1993 everyone in Bonners Ferry knew the name “Grandma Stewart.” She moved to Kalispell, Mont., with Carolyn and “Sonny” White. If you listen to Nelda, she hasn’t done much since. But here’s the real story. She helped run Carolyn’s day care for 21 years and earned a new nickname. Because her great-grandson, Zachariah, couldn’t say Grandma Great, dozens of kids and parents now knew “Greatie.” She volunteered from church work of all sorts for 25 years. In her spare time, she prays, always has. She prays for everyone she knows and hundreds she’s never met. Some say she has a “hotline” with God.

Nelda is an unusual name, so we suggest that when you get to Heaven, if they ask for another reference, just say “Grandma Stewart” or “Greatie.” It will speed things up.

Bonners Ferry Funeral Home is caring for the family. To leave a message or memory for the family, please go to www.bonnersferryfuneralhome.com.