To the Editor:
Block Island has just lost one of our ladies, Victoria (Vicky) Murphy. Although I’ve known her son, Robbie, for many years I had not had the pleasure of meeting his mom until quite recently. I became her upstairs neighbor on the first of July 2017.
Vicky would sit on her porch, never before 11 a.m., feeding a multitude of birds — some actually eating out of her hands. There was a one-legged crow she called by name; they talked with each other. She introduced me to a pair of cardinals that raised their babies every year in our nearby trees. There was one very loud, and pushy, male blue jay; Vicky claimed him as one of her hood, too. Her numerous doves made up for him.
Vicky loved taking photos, sending many of them on to her Facebook friends. Often I caught her blowing bubbles. “Good exercise for my lungs,” she said. “But the winds have to be blowing out of the right direction.”
Vicky always dressed to the nines. Her hair and make-up were perfect-looking, as though she just stepped out of a saloon — oops! That was in the ole days — salon. She shared wonderful stories about her working days: waitressing, bartending, in-charge housekeeping, etc., but when the time came for her favorite soap opera or game show she would abruptly get up, rushing inside to catch it!
My first impressions of Miss Vicky were: “I like this lady. She is smart. She is creative. She can teach me stuff. Maybe even how to use a computer.”
Well, approximately six months have passed since I met my newest best friend, and then we had to hand her up to the gods. You brought me joy, dear one. Rest in peace.
West Side Road