Pam has a lovely, soft English accent and a gracious presence that draws you in and immediately enfolds you in warmth. She had an unusual start to life. She was born at the height of World War II in a cellar that served as a bomb shelter — an escape from the German bombs that rained down on nearby Sheffield, then reputed as the steel capital of the world and a major target of attack. Her beloved father, who worked as a crane operator in the steelworks, was killed in a German air raid a few years later, leaving the family without a wage earner. Seven years later, Pam’s mother also passed away.
Pam remains nostalgic for England, and now, at 85, with her siblings all gone, she feels she has no home base to return to. The loss of her daughter, Sue, to cancer four years ago deepened her loneliness, as did her recent move to Minnesota to be near her surviving daughter.
A bright student, Pam earned a place at one of England’s best high schools. She reflects that had her father lived, she might have pursued her dream of becoming a doctor. Instead, she began working at 15 to help support her family. Later, after moving to America, she found the love of her life, Ted, a kind-hearted Greek she met in Chicago.
For 24 years, Pam worked for the South African Consulate as an information officer and proudly recalls meeting Nelson Mandela on a visit to South Africa. She later volunteered in Florida as a guardian ad litem, helping foster children find loving homes and speaking at court on behalf of abandoned babies.
Now in Minnesota, she misses the warmth of Florida and Texas, where she and Ted spent many happy years under sunny skies surrounded by close friends. She uses a walker, no longer drives, and finds it harder to make friends, feeling her English accent sets her apart. Pam longs for a friendship built on chemistry and ease — someone to share laughter, good conversation, and quiet companionship. “Togetherness,” she says, “is what I miss most.”
