Gordon Ferguson, the lawyer for whom I worked for 25 years, had retired, and he and his wife Mary had moved to Meadow Hill. I was going to retire from the firm, too, and one day Gordon phoned me to say that he had “found the perfect retirement job” for me. Meadow Hill was self-managed at that time and in need of a part-time bookkeeper.
That’s how I met Hallie Harris. It was 1996. She and Jack Landon supervised the maintenance staff, and they pretty well ran the place, answering to the Board of Directors, of course. (Jack has some great stories to tell about Hallie—ask him!) I liked Hallie immediately. She showed me the ropes—I had taken over from Jan Wilson, a resident who did everything manually–payrolls, tax returns, everything really except for the annual audit. (We eventually bought a computer, installed an accounting program, and engaged a payroll service before we became professionally managed in 2001.)
Her many years of service on and for the Meadow Hill Board gave Hallie a profound knowledge of our Declaration, By-Laws and Rules, and she “went by the book”! That wasn’t always comfortable for everyone, but you always knew where Hallie stood. Hallie was a very private person, but little by little I got to know her better—especially when I bought a unit in Meadow Hill myself and moved in just across the parking lot from Hallie in 2000. A descendant of J. B. Williams of local renown, Hallie had lived as a child in the lovely Williams mansion on the corner of Hubbard Street and Buttonball Lane. I had also been on a mission trip to Haiti in l999 with a group of eight from Connecticut, including Huntington (“Hunt”) Williams, who I discovered was Hallie’s cousin. I also knew that Hallie spent Christmas holidays with a daughter, Cynthia, and her family in Madison, but it was not until her last illness that I knew that she had other children.
Hallie was an avid bridge player, rarely missing a Tuesday night in the Hollister House. I greatly admired her courage when she decided that she would not end her life on a dialysis machine. “It all ends up the same way,” she said. She was remarkably active, playing bridge with friends and driving until very near the end of her life, and she died on March 2 as she wished, at home.
Hallie was a fiercely loyal friend, and I miss her.
Barbara Massy