Back in my youth, my parents always had copies of the Reader’s Digest stashed about our home and being an ever-inquiring kid, I would inevitably end up reading them cover to cover each month. I would scare myself reading those ghastly medical stories like “I am Joe’s Liver” and immediately develop all the symptoms. I would get caught up in those heartrending real-life stories that always had happy endings and of course, I had to check out the jokes in the “Laughter is the Best Medicine” section. However, my personal favorites were the “My Most Unforgettable Character” tales which instilled in me a life-long love and genuine interest in those remarkable people who step into our lives and leave their mark by introducing a sense of wonder and inspiration. This past week I came upon a photo of one of my most “unforgettable characters” and I want to share her story to ensure High Point never forgets this remarkable woman.

Her name was Hilda Fountain, and she phoned me out of the blue one beautiful fall afternoon in 2004 and gave my middle-aged heart quite a start. Keep in mind, I had never met her in person up to that moment, but she had evidently heard me speak about the work of the Community Foundation a couple times and was closely following our grantmaking. That afternoon her voice was crisp, strong and to the point. “My name is Hilda Fountain,” she said, “I have heard you speak, read your column, and have been watching where you all give your money and I like you. I am going to give you $500,000 and you can use in whatever way you and your leadership at the Foundation think is best.” I paused for a brief second to catch my breath, “Mrs. Fountain, that is wonderful, thank you so much. May I come over to see you and thank you in person tomorrow?”  She cleared her throat and replied, “10:00am tomorrow morning, don’t be late” and the line went dead. I hung up the phone, leaned back in my chair, and thought that was the damnedest thing I had ever heard. I would soon learn with my new friend Hilda there would be many more of those exciting moments to come.

The next morning, I drove up to her modest home on Westwood Avenue, she met me at the door, walked me to her couch and we proceeded to talk for two straight hours. She may have been one of the most fascinating human beings I had ever encountered. Hilda was so bright, inquisitive, opinionated, and funny. We both loved to read, we shared a keen interest in history and politics, and she was not shy at all about her unbridled passion for America, conservative politics, Hillsdale College, and most of all, High Point. I learned she had been volunteering at High Point Regional Hospital for over 60 years, had been blessed with a long and loving marriage, raised good children, and had even once worked as a parole officer. She was also a strong advocate for local education and building self-sufficient citizens. I fell in love that day and we became dear friends who would have many more engaging conversations and swap books back and forth for the rest of her life.

Toward the end of our conversation that day I asked her, probably for the second or third time, if she was sure she did not want to give any of the money to her children. I try to be a conscientious man and have always been careful when I work with older folks to be sure I am not taking anyone’s inheritance. Well, I learned very quickly that was not the case with Hilda. She immediately bolted straight up in her chair, looked me right in the eyes and said, “Paul Lessard, I have self-sufficient children, they don’t need my money and if you ask me that question again, I will not give you a single penny!” Well, I have been chewed out by the very best growing up with my father, the Colonel, and those sweet NCOs at the USMC PLC program, so I simply nodded and assured her those words would never pass my lips again! I later learned she had a son who was a Naval Academy graduate who had risen to the rank of Admiral, another was a top NC attorney, and the third was a very successful and beloved endodontist in Greensboro; needless to say, they did not need her money!  Thus, our friendship began and over the years she continued to impress, inspire, and on more than one occasion astonish me with her wisdom, strength, and uncanny wit.

At the age of 102 years, Hilda’s health began to fail, and she was moved to the High Point Hospice Home. I stopped in to see her one afternoon and I found her napping bathed in the warmth of the winter sun curled up like a very tranquil and content feline in repose. I took a seat and just sat beside her, gazing at my dear friend who had indeed run such a good race and finished so very well. I thanked God for our friendship, her remarkable life, generosity, and steadfast commitment to our beloved community which would continue on through the Hilda B. Fountain Fund at the Community Foundation for generations to come. For Good, For High Point, Forever…