Our Stories

She loves Minnie Mouse for her loyalty to Mickey, was a prolific cook under the tutelage of her husband, and says she will help anyone who asks. Meet Myra, 84, the new leader of Rose Schnitzer Manor Assisted Living’s Resident Council, also known as President Fox. “Who thought I’d be leading this whole motley crew?!” said Myra, with her typical deadpan humor. “When they asked me to be president, I told them to forget it. And then they kept following me around telling me I was going to be president. We will do this; we will do that, blah, blah.” Myra laughs. “And here I am. I never thought that I would be able to speak in front of people like I’m doing. Am I doing, okay?” President Fox—the mistress of bustle and banter—is originally from New York. Born in the Williamsburg area of Brooklyn, Myra’s family moved to Queens when she was 12, and she attended Jamaica High School, until they built Morris High School, not far from her home. “From there, I went to work,” said Myra. “I’ve been working since I was 16.” Myra worked at a manufacturing business, and then as a paraeducator in the Bronx. “It was a hard school to be in, a very diverse community in a devastated area.” Myra met her husband, Ken, a stockbroker, through a friend, and they married after a year of dating, moving to Valley Stream. Ken was a cook in the United States Army, and taught Myra how to cook. “I took off from there, and cooked all the time, and everyone knew I was a good cook. (But be sure to ask her about her split pea soup Thanksgiving disaster and nut bread in a 4H can). When their children went off to college, Ken and Myra moved to xx, Florida, and owned a laundry business. “It was heavy work; a horrible experience,” she said. Eager to move from Florida, the couple sold their business and moved to San Diego, into their daughter’s house, to care for their first grandchild. And then Ken got sick and died. “I was the full-time grandparent,” said Myra. “We moved to a larger house, another child arrived, and I did the cooking, and they went to work.” Myra’s daughter, Rena, eventually stopped working, so Myra moved into her own place. Her daughter’s family then moved to Oregon. And Myra later followed. In Portland, Myra lived on her own in an apartment for 10 years. “I never really thought about being in a home or assisted living,” admits Myra. “I thought I would be in my own apartment my whole life. And that they would take me out. I never really thought that far ahead. “One, I never thought I’d be alone. Number two, I was taking care of myself and my cat. I was able to sit and look at trees and had my own washer and dryer, and I became very friendly with the ladies on my floor. And I was having a good time. I had my car, and I was able to jump in it, and go wherever I wanted.” And then she fell, fracturing her pelvis. Myra stayed at the Robison Jewish Health Center/Harold Schnitzer Center for Living at Cedar Sinai Park to recuperate for two weeks. Returning home, she fell again, and her son, Alan, and Rena arrived to ask for the car keys. “They said they wanted me to move to assisted living,” she said. “I think I cried for three days; it was hard to take in. “I don’t like to be bossed around too much,” she said, with her mischievous smile. After visits to other communities, Myra and her daughter found a studio with a window at Rose Schnitzer Manor Assisted Living, and she moved in early 2022. Though the Jewish focus was not a factor in her elder living search, Myra said it’s nice that people understand her when she uses certain words. “I’ve met good friends here,” she said. “I joined the book club, and go to the monthly series on current events. I always find myself busy with a movie, or Bingo, or exercise, or mindfulness class, and I love the outings to restaurants and shopping. There’s always something to do if you want. “It was hard at first because of the difference in privacy. But I’m happy living here,” she said. “Nothing is ever 100 percent no matter where you are. But here, it’s pretty close.” Myra said she appreciates the conscientiousness of the health staff. “Samira Health Services certified medication aide practically saved my life last year before I went into the hospital. I was not feeling well, and it was a weekend, and she called me and said she ‘didn’t like my numbers’ and was going to send me to the hospital, and it turned out I needed to be there. “The staff here care, and they know about you. It’s a good feeling to know that someone is interested in you, and will take care of you. “I like the community feel. I like that if something is wrong, someone will help you. “You are never alone.” ###    

The grandparents of Geneva Jacobs Dougal, PHR, RCFA, along with elders she cared for at a young age in the Portland community, have helped shape her professional journey as Cedar Sinai Park Human Resources Director. Those early experiences with seniors also motivated Geneva to obtain her Oregon license as an Assisted Living/Residential Care Facility Administrator, which she formally received from the state last week. “I am always wanting to continue to learn and grow, and I was up for the challenge!” said Geneva. “The residential care facility administrator training was really interesting, and helped me understand operational and human resources issues at Rose Schnitzer Manor, and how we can better help the administrator and team members,” said Geneva. “I wish I had taken the training sooner!” “I think the training will help me support the current administrator Rachael White, and the building and management at Rose Schnitzer Manor Assisted Living. With my training, I can now better help them prepare for survey to ensure we meet all of the constantly changing requirements and the documentation and records needed. “I gained a better understanding about the roles and expectations of the administrator and her team, which is useful information for human resources. And in a pinch, I could step in as administrator!” Geneva’s grandfather, Edwin Reed, with whom she lived with as a child, along with her mother, Donna Brown, and grandmother, Alberta Reed, moved to Portland and worked for the Morris Printing Company after World War II. The Morris Printing Company was owned by Morris Ail, and had many Jewish clients, including Robison Jewish Home, the precursor to Cedar Sinai Park. Before Morris Ail died, he sold Morris Printing Company to Geneva’s grandfather in 1953. “Mr. Ail was like a second father to my grandfather,” said Geneva. “And when my grandfather bought the company, he kept all of the same clients, many of whom remember the printing company, and my uncle, and my mom helped there preparing birth announcements and bar mitzvah invitations. “While I don’t remember my grandfather coming to Robison, I remember the print shop and I have heard much about his connection to Robison. We also lived just two miles from the Home, just up Beaverton Hillsdale Highway so I was always aware of it.” Geneva attended Raleigh Park Elementary and Whitford Middle School. As a 17-year-old, she was one of the first certified nursing assistants in Oregon, based at Camelot Care Center in Sherwood. Out taking vitals one day, Geneva came across two women sharing a hospice room and “one was at peace and the other was agitated,” she said. “The poor woman who was scared: I sat with her as long as I could and tried to comfort her. “I’m really interested in grief, dying, and death, and how to help elders in those transitions.” The end-of-life experience struck her deeply, and was another stepping stone in guiding Geneva’s view of senior services and their purpose and need for compassion through the aging process. Geneva traveled frequently with her grandparents; at one point she lived with family while attending school in Canada. Returning to Oregon, Geneva attended St. Mary’s of the Valley for a year, and finished high school at Sunset. Geneva began working in the shoe department during the grand opening of the Walker Road Fred Meyer in 1990. For the next 25 years, she worked off and on for Fred Meyer in different departments and different stores, with her last stops in Human Resources and Public Affairs.  During that time, she attended Portland Community College for an associate’s degree, and Linfield for a human resources certificate. Deciding to returning to school for a bachelor of arts, Geneva cashiered part-time at Fred Meyer while completing her degree at Marylhurst University in interdisciplinary studies, with an emphasis in business, human resources, and psychology. Out dragon boating one weekend, the wife of former Cedar Sinai Park Chief Executive Officer David Fuks,  DeAnn, encouraged Geneva to consider working   at the Home. The Robison Jewish Health Center/Harold Schnitzer Center for Living was in the middle of an enormous remodel at the time, and there was no need for a human resources person, so Geneva took a position at OHSU as a human resources coordinator at the School of Nursing. In 2015, she received a PHR (Professional in Human Resources) through the Human Resources Certification Institute. “And then I was taking the bus up to OHSU, and saw on the human resources network that there was a position at my level open at Cedar Sinai Park,” she said. “When I saw it, I was like … the culture is great, the position is great . . . I’m going to apply.” Geneva joined Cedar Sinai Park’s human resources department in January 2016 as a generalist. With construction on the nursing home still in the final stages, Geneva was on the human resources team that interviewed and hired all of the certified nursing assistants for the dual-certified skilled nursing facility. “We hired a ton of people once skilled nursing was fully open,” she said. “One of our new employee orientation meetings had 52 new people! “It was easier to hire a lot of people at one time than it is now.” In late 2017, Geneva became senior human resources generalist, and then Human Resources Director in 2020. Geneva’s interest in end-of-life care remains, and she recently completed her 40-hour end-of-life doula training. She is married to Matt, and they will celebrate 25 years of marriage in August. Matt’s dad, Ronald, stayed at Robison a few years ago while recuperating from surgery, and then at the Manor for respite. “That brought me to a whole different experience of the organization,” noted Geneva. Geneva and Matt like to travel when they can, though she considers herself a homebody. Geneva also enjoys gardening, and flash fiction reading and writing. “I love the people here and the culture. I think it was all meant to be.”   ###  

Even as a Neveh Shalom preschooler, visiting the Home to sing and help with elder activities, Community Program Director Jennifer Felberg gravitated to our seniors. “It’s innate,” said Felberg. “As a kid, I was always comfortable going up and talking to the seniors. I’ve always loved the Robison elders; they fill me with joy.” Now, in the next step of her professional journey, Jennifer has applied and was officially accepted on February 6 by the Oregon Health Authority for administrator in training (AIT) at Robison Jewish Health Center/Harold Schnitzer Center for Living at Cedar Sinai Park. She is under the supervision of her registered preceptor Kimberly Fuson, Cedar Sinai Park chief executive officer. Over the next year, Jennifer will complete the required 960 hours of the health licensing program, delving into five domains of practice, including resident care and quality of life, human resources, finance, physical environment, and leadership and management. She is currently learning nursing systems and functions. “I kept saying ‘no’ to the idea of being an administrator because I was interested in a broader view of the organization,” said Felberg. “And then I realized that I can’t work on a broader view without knowing the basics. I felt like I needed some credentials to even sit at the table, and that I needed to learn the actual operations of a building.” Jennifer returned to school in 2022, thanks to a Cedar Sinai Park Lucio and Irene Villa Memorial Scholarship. She graduated in December 2023 from Capella University, with a bachelor of science in healthcare administration. “In addition to the nursing home licensing, it has also been suggested that I obtain my CNA license, so I’ll probably be pursuing that certificate, as well, this year,” she said. Jennifer is a native Portlander. Her father was an auctioneer, and her grandfather was the inventor of charity auctions, and she worked with both in sales and entertainment. After receiving a bachelor of fine arts from the Southern Oregon State College, Jennifer sang with the Rogue Valley Opera Company, a traveling jazz troupe, and musical theater productions along the West Coast, often fitting in temporary jobs, such as at Nike and Adidas. Moving to Seattle, Jennifer went to work as a client services coordinator for a recording studio, Bad Animals, and met Sony, a sound engineer. While at the recording studio, Jennifer was often asked to fill in for bands that needed background singers. One band, KMFDM, asked Jennifer to sing with them for an album called Mortal Combat; her song Juke Joint Jezebel went platinum, and also aired during an episode of 90210. She toured with KMFMD for three years, becoming engaged to Sony while on tour in Atlanta where he was doing sound for Pearl Jam. Returning to Seattle in 2006, Jennifer became a licensed personal trainer for seniors. Shortly thereafter, she and Sony moved to Portland, and Jennifer was a personal trainer at the Mittleman Jewish Community Center, supporting seniors and folks with special health needs like cancer and dialysis. Jennifer began filling in for a colleague who worked at Cedar Sinai Park, and then joined the Home full-time, completing her Life Enrichment certification and Positive Approach to Care training.  She also championed the Home’s then-Greenhouse Project, training staff when the Robison households were remodeled and re-opened. “The households are all about putting the residents in the center, and the people closest to them—the staff--should have a voice in how resident care is shaped. I am passionate about the residents and those that serve them, and I think the staff need to be supported, so they can always offer their best work. “Jennifer is passionate about our residents, and those who serve them,” agreed Fuson. “The team is as thrilled as I am that Jennifer has chosen the path to become a licensed nursing home administrator. Her vitality and energy are so important to the leadership role she is pursuing. We need more leaders of her caliber in senior housing and healthcare, and it is my privilege to guide Jennifer on this next part of her professional journey.” Jennifer and Sony will celebrate their 28^th year of marriage in 2024. They have two children, Moses and Ginger, who have been volunteers and on staff at Robison throughout their childhoods. “We want our residents to have a great experience when they are with us,” said Jennifer. “The details to the activities matter because our residents are always learning, growing, and giving. “It’s really important to understand that about our elders, and also know how much the staff make a difference to that experience. The relationships our residents make with the staff are incredibly important. “To see it firsthand, has changed my whole perspective of where I was, and now where I am going.” ###  

In April of 1998, a then 27-year-old Peggy Henry answered an ad in the Oregonian for a part-time hair stylist at a new assisted living facility in Portland called Rose Schnitzer Manor. “The first few residents of the May Apartments had moved in during January of that year,” said Peggy. “Flo McWillis hired me Flo’s husband, Stan, was an accountant at Robison, and we were just waiting for the salon to be ready. “The place filled up quickly, so it didn’t take long before we were both busy every day. My daughter was four-years-old at the time, and I wanted to be home for her, and my son, but nights and weekends are part of this profession. No nights and weekends are unheard of, and definitely a happy highlight for me.” When Flo retired in 2016, Peggy became sole proprietor of the state-licensed salon that she named All About Me, offering hair and nail services to our residents, about 40 per week . . . or more, if needed! She recently began offering hair care at Robison on occasional Saturdays, too. Resident Freda has lived at Rose Schnitzer long enough to have had her hair done by Flo. She loves sitting under the dryer, and receiving hair care weekly, as it’s relaxing, but wrinkles her nose at the hair spray that will hold her set for the next seven days. “You look great, Freda!” she is told upon departure. “I always look like that when she does my hair!” says Freda, with a smile. “I love seniors,” said Peggy. “The residents have all become family. I consider myself half Jewish, even though I’m not any religion. “Getting to know the residents is my favorite part, and now that I’ve been here so long, I’m meeting children of parents whose hair I did 20 years ago. There have been residents whose parents’ hair I styled when they lived here. “My job takes a bit of caregiving and a bit of hairdressing.” Peggy walks down the corridor to pick up Resident Gerry for her weekly appointment, and knocks on Gerry’s door. “Do you want to bring your sweater, or leave it here?” Peggy asks. Gerry elects to wear her sweater. I’m always excited to get my hair done,” said Gerry. “It’s so nice.” Peggy guides Gerry back to the salon, chatting as she goes. “Gerry, we’re rounding the corner here to the salon. Don’t forget there’s a little lip there. I call that the speed bump when I’m pushing people in wheelchairs because it looks little, but it feels big when you’re going in a chair.” “My job takes a bit of caregiving, and a bit of hairdressing.” Many of the residents, like Freda and Gerry, receive shampoo sets, which is a wash and comb out, back to front. The technique is a fading art, notes Peggy, “but it’s not easy to do; shampoo sets take a lot of back combing with rollers.” Because Rose Schnitzer Manor has a large number of residents, Peggy believes she is likely one of the busiest hair stylists in an assisted living community in Oregon. “How’re you doing, Gerry? Does the water feel good?” asks Peggy. Gerry concurs. A former antiques dealer who owned a business with her husband, John, she shares that her hair was very dark as a child; her classmates even asked the teacher if Gerry was a gypsy. “I thought you might have been a brunette,” said Peggy. “Typically, people whose hair has more white than gray had very dark hair as children.” Peggy can’t see over the evergreens out the windows now. But she remembers the campus’s 10-acre woods being low enough that she could look over the trees out to the streets and adjoining neighborhoods. She said goats roamed the woods to chew down the excess foliage; one day a goat ran right into the Rose Schnitzer Manor lobby. There was a soda fountain in the Manor, where the Stop N’ Shop now resides, where residents could order a “pop.” A shampoo set from Peggy and Flo was $10, and a tube of color was $3; prices have risen to $30 and $20 respectively. Living at Rose Schnitzer Manor is a little like taking a cruise, observed Peggy. “Residents awake, go to an activity, and then a meal, and then another activity. And in the early days, residents dressed for dinner,” said Peggy, meaning they traded in their day clothes for evening wear. “They had to be downstairs at a certain time dressed for dinner,” she said. “I couldn’t get anyone to take an appointment after 3 in the afternoon!” Peggy was born in St. Helens, Oregon, and grew up in Milwaukie. She has two children, and three grandchildren, and watches her four-year-old granddaughter every Monday. She also attends as many of her grandson’s sporting events as possible. Residents often give her advice: to save money, and travel as much as she can, and she is listening, though she intends to work for years to come. “I’m not going anywhere,” said Peggy. “I am comfortable, have a routine, an love my job.” Peggy would love a hair styling partner in the salon so she could take on the hair of residents’ families. “If you hear of anyone, let me know!” she said. Resident Betty has arrived for her appointment. What does she think of Peggy’s hair care? “She’s an incredible person,” said Betty. “All her clients love her.” Agrees Renee: “You make a lot of people happy!”

If you want to know what and where to eat, ask Andrea “Andy” Staggs. The executive chef and director of culinary services at Rose Schnitzer Manor Assisted Living has been in the food and restaurant business for 36 years, so she’s always ready for such questions. “My favorite foods at Rose Schnitzer Manor are the salmon burger, brisket, and mushroom schnitzel,” shares Andy. “I’m always happy when those items are on the menu. “If we’re going out, my favorite food truck is Sunita’s on SW 91^st Avenue behind the Shell gas station across from Jesuit High School. If I want Thai, that’s where I go. My favorite restaurant is Acorn and Oak in Camas. They’re absolutely amazing. Besides the fact that they’re located right on the lake with a gorgeous view, I love their concept where you can eat and also buy flower arrangements, or have them delivered to your table. The food is farm to table, organic, with a small menu and seasonal.” Andy, nicknamed after her grandfather, grew up in Texas, where her father was in the military stationed at various points in San Antonio, Holland, and Austin. When Andy was 22, she moved to Las Vegas, and spent the next 26 years there as a compliance officer for a gaming company, while studying for her bachelor of science in food science, and associate’s degree in hospitality, at Le Cordon Bleu. Having worked at McDonald’s since she was 16—all the way from drive-thru to grill to store area representative—Andy learned the importance of food consistency and efficiency. She next took those skills to a high-end Vietnamese French restaurant with meals starting at $200 a person for entrees alone, as a line cook, executive chef, and then director of operations. Later, she led a Hawaiian-Japanese restaurant, and then a Mexican restaurant that won Taco Wars on the Food Channel and other local competitions. While at the Mexican restaurant, Adolfo “Duke” Valenzuela applied as a server. Andy said the two had a great interview, and Duke was hired, but there weren’t any additional sparks for years until both were out of relationships. “We’ve been together 10 years now,” said Andy. “I never thought I would work outside of restaurants, but there is something so much more fulfilling about having the ‘same customers’ all day, every day, versus your regulars that come in a couple of times a week. In 2018, Andy and Duke moved to Sanger, California, Duke’s hometown outside of Fresno, to open their own fusion café. A year later, when the building their cafe was in sold, Andy began looking for work elsewhere. “I came up to Cedar Sinai Park and interviewed twice,” she said. “I was offered the position of dining room manager, we moved here January 6, and I started the job on January 7. And then the pandemic began March 11.” When the executive chef position opened a year later, Andy was selected for the role. “I love it, even with all the chaos of Covid and staffing crises,” she said. “I never thought I would work outside of restaurants, but there is something so much more fulfilling about having the ‘same customers’ all day, every day, versus your regulars that come in a couple of times a week. “Getting to know people on a different level makes all the difference.” The residents here offer a lot of input on food, and Andy joins the Food Committee bi-weekly to listen, and try to implement changes. “If I were running my own place, it would be my menu, the way I envision it, and if you want to come eat and pay for the food, that’s up to you. But here, it’s the atmosphere of making sure that we’re offering items that the residents truly love, not just feeding my ego, or the cook’s ego, or whatever we want on the menu. “There’s a little less flexibility, but I like the approach because it gives us a broader area to work with in terms of menu choices, and we try to stay current with the seasons in whatever we’re offering. I think our food is good quality and, obviously, certified kosher. What’s the most popular resident meal? “Meatloaf,” said Andy. “And we actually do a five-week rotation, meaning it’s on the menu three times in five weeks because the residents love it that much. “Outside of comfort foods, fish tacos are always popular, as well as our salads, especially the strawberry spinach goat cheese salad for lunch, and then the Chinese chicken salad at dinner about which the residents rave.” Andy noted that portion sizes are considered to reduce waste. “We try to make a point of recycling whatever we can, too. So, when we have leftover rice at the end of the meal, it goes straight into the freezer for veggie burgers; we have a whole system to avoid waste. “Our staff takes seriously the quality of product for the residents, and their relationships with the residents, even from the back of the house. We have residents that come and visit staff to make sure that they are remembered, and to put a face to their orders, so it’s a good relationship between all of them.” A typical day has Andy running to and from meetings, catching up with residents, checking in with staff, and researching recipes. But she can also be found in the kitchen cooking, or serving residents in the dining room. “I was awakened at 6:30 on a recent Sunday because there was no cook for breakfast,” said Andy. “I brushed my teeth and threw on some clothes, and came flying in here, with the wrong shoes. I got here a few minutes before seven, and my baker had set up the line for me to save the day. And we were able to open the dining room on time at 7 a.m. “It was actually a lot of fun, even though it was exhausting and not planned.” Andy said her favorite part of being executive chef is working with the staff, and on menu development. “I love creating the menus, whether it’s the weekly menus, or for our special events. I love creating something everyone can enjoy and remember in a positive way.” Positive is an important word for Andy, who says she learned optimism from her mother, and she tries to keep the atmosphere light and upbeat, empathizing with staff when needed, and remaining understanding. Sixteen-month-old chihuahua Lucy comes to work with Andy every morning, and is a support animal for her team. When Andy is not working on the weekends, she said Sundays are for chores and food prep at home, and then she and Duke and Lucy take a drive and find a nice restaurant to enjoy. “I love it here at Cedar Sinai Park,” said Andy. “Being able to provide really great service is the job I’ve been after all along.”    

vc_rowvc_column width=1/6vc_single_image image=16185 style=vc_box_circle_2/vc_columnvc_column width=5/6vc_column_textHearing receptionist Leanna Anderson speak fondly of her parents, one knows immediately what draws her to Rose Schnitzer Manor Assisted Living. “I like meeting people,” she said, while on a “break” from the front desk, thanks to daughter, Deanna McCracken, who’s covering reception duties. “I’m constantly greeting people, and getting up to help, and listening to people’s stories. “I love the different personalities, and family connections, and different backgrounds. Knowing the history that our residents have in terms of the war and Holocaust is interesting, and everyone who lives here is unique. “I want people to know that I care about them.”/vc_column_text/vc_column/vc_rowvc_rowvc_column width=1/2vc_column_text css=.vc_custom_1696893319385{margin-top: 0px !important;margin-bottom: 0px !important;padding-top: 0px !important;padding-bottom: 0px !important;}Leanna spent the first five years of her childhood in Wichita, Kansas, where her father was an electrician for Boeing. The family then lived in Texas for a year, and went on to Louisiana for another seven years, until her father selected Washington state for his next transfer. “We moved to the Seattle area in 1966,” said Leanna. “I was 12.” Leanna said she had a “great childhood and wouldn’t change a thing.” She was close to both parents, spending time with her outdoorsman dad fishing at lily-padded lakes for crappie, and riding the bus with her mom for dinner and shopping in the city while her dad worked the swing shift. “I like talking about my folks,” said Leanna. “They were great parents. We were all so close, and we had so much fun, especially with the other Boeing families, camping and celebrating holidays together.”/vc_column_text/vc_columnvc_column width=1/2vc_single_image image=16176 img_size=full/vc_column/vc_rowvc_rowvc_columnvc_column_text css=.vc_custom_1696893388751{margin-top: 0px !important;margin-bottom: 0px !important;padding-top: 0px !important;padding-bottom: 0px !important;}Leanna lived at home until she married at age 23. Deanna arrived first, with son, Darren following two years later. Leanna worked in administrative positions for Boeing, and for several attorneys, and in 1999, she began working at Intel in Lacey, Wash. After her father died in 2001, and it looked like the Lacey office might close permanently, Leanna transferred to the Hillsboro office in 2004, with Deanna and her mother, Glenna Mae, in tow. Sadly, Glenna Mae died shortly after the family’s move to Portland. Deanna lives with Leanna, and Darren lives in North Dakota with his wife, and daughter./vc_column_text/vc_column/vc_rowvc_rowvc_column css=.vc_custom_1645040101400{margin-top: 25px !important;}vc_separator style=double el_class=seprator-lines-spacevc_column_text css=.vc_custom_1696893708159{margin-top: 0px !important;margin-bottom: 0px !important;padding-top: 75px !important;padding-bottom: 75px !important;} el_class=custom-quote“I like talking about my folks. They were great parents. We were all so close, and we had so much fun, especially with the other Boeing families, camping and celebrating holidays together.”/vc_column_textvc_separator style=double el_class=seprator-lines-space/vc_column/vc_rowvc_rowvc_columnvc_column_text css=.vc_custom_1696893613419{margin-top: 0px !important;margin-bottom: 0px !important;padding-top: 0px !important;padding-bottom: 0px !important;}Leanna retired from Intel in 2016 after 17 years, and was looking for a position “less stressful” than working in administration for a large company. She laughingly describes Rose Schnitzer Manor as a “different kind of stress.” “It is not quiet or slow here!” she said. Deanna joined Leanna on campus about four years ago and is able to back up her mom on the desk, unless she is out driving or delivering packages. Not only does Leanna know the names of residents and family members, but she has many of the residents’ room numbers memorized, too. “I never really had a job where I had to learn so many names and phone numbers and apartments and everything at once,” she said. “But I think the variety of work I’ve done has helped. “And I’ve always had a good memory, and been a good speller.”/vc_column_text/vc_column/vc_rowvc_rowvc_columnvc_column_text css=.vc_custom_1696893584205{margin-top: 0px !important;margin-bottom: 0px !important;padding-top: 0px !important;padding-bottom: 0px !important;}Leanna describes herself as caring, punctual, and organized. “I’d rather get some place and sit 30 minutes and wait ‘til the time than to be a minute late. And, I have to have my desk so I know where things are located and they’re not all over the place.” Leanna arrives about 7:30 in the morning, and boots up all the machines, and begins answering the phones at 8, all while greeting residents and visitors and answering questions, giving directions, and helping to make copies, log medications, and coordinate package delivery. She coordinates a resident phone book monthly, and updates resident photos on the community bulletin board. “We also help health services with record keeping when we can,” she said. “It’s just a big variety.” Leanna has a very full schedule from Monday through Friday, and recently has worked some Saturday shifts, too. But when she’s not working, she enjoys being outside vacationing near water, gardening, or trying new restaurants with Deanna. Despite some eye rolling over the tidiness of their shared house—Leanna appreciates her daughter always having her back. “She does an awful lot for me,” said Leanna. “When I’ve been sick, she’s always right there. She does the shopping on Saturdays, and I do the cooking on Sundays. “I’m grateful for her. This is home.”/vc_column_text/vc_column/vc_row

Sonia Liberman, a diminutive great-grandmother living at Rose Schnitzer Manor, quietly lives her life as a national treasure. Unassuming and dainty at 4’9”, you might imagine she is a delicate flower; demure and quiet. But her life story belies her appearance. She is one of less than 100 Holocaust survivors whose oral history has ever been archived at the Oregon Jewish Museum and Center for Holocaust Education. Her extraordinary story is also immortalized in Washington, D.C., at the United States Memorial  Holocaust Museum Yet this remarkable story is not all that makes Sonia shine. What she accomplished and became—in the wake of such a history—makes her truly extraordinary. Sonia— then Sonia Berkowitz—was born into the dark world of early 1930s Poland. Her family, owners of grain mills, served as leaders in the Jewish community of Kletsk. (Kletsk, not often known, is actually within Minsk, where so many Ashkenazi Jews claim ancestry.) In 1940, Sonia’s family’s mills and income were misappropriated by the Nazis, and the entire Jewish community was forced into a ghetto. Her parents, filled with foreboding about what was to come, moved Sonia and her two older siblings to the farm of a family friend—“Uncle Kashemish.” Kashemish, though not Jewish, was a progressive teacher who had previously lived with the family while running a school in Kletsk and had grown to care deeply for the Berkowitz’s. Sonia’s parents fervently hoped she and her siblings would be safer on his rural farm. Her father extracted a promise from Kashemish: that he would do all he possibly could to care for the children and ensure their survival. Initially, Sonia and her two siblings were safer on the farm. But in the autumn of 1940, her older brother and sister decided to return to their parents’ home in Kletsk simply for the High Holidays. Sonia, they felt, was too young to travel through treacherous forests by night with them. They left the farm and never returned. Along with Sonia’s parents, they were rounded up and brutally murdered by the Nazis between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur,. Sonia, now orphaned, was only seven.

Somehow, Kashemish always stayed three steps ahead of the Gestapo.

Kashemish kept his word and somehow, “always stayed three steps ahead of the Gestapo,” Sonia reports. At his own peril, Kashemish shifted her from farm to farm and family to family throughout the War, a young, grammar-school-aged Jewish girl undercover, pretending to be a Christian. Sonia slept in the woods of the Black Forest, learned to gather milk and eggs from cows and chickens, moved quietly and quickly in the night, and was shuttled from convents to orphanages to worse—families dependent on her for grueling child labor but withholding all but an occasional crusty bread. Somehow, she survived. Yet once liberated following the war, her story did not become appreciably easier. As an orphan, she was transported through Czechoslovakia, Switzerland, Italy, and Germany, each in turn rejecting her and children like her, until she finally landed at an orphanage in France. Sonia ultimately made her way from there to Israel, finding distant relatives of her parents. As a young adult in then-Palestine, she met her future husband, soon married, went on to have three children, and eventually made her way to the United States with a growing family.

“I felt I have to survive.

It would make sense if someone with Sonia’s history became embittered, distrusting, pessimistic. Instead, Sonia determined she had to bring good into the world. “I felt I have to survive,” she says. “I wanted to start my own family to replace the family I lost. I didn’t know how, I didn’t know if it would happen, but that was my plan.” Sonia had never learned to read and write as her would-be school years were all spent in hiding. But she learned. She received her bachelor of arts degree at University of Judaism the same year her son Gershon received his (aka Gary, Technical Services Director for Oregon State Hospital). “My father told me I would be a good teacher,” she says simply, “so that’s what I did.” She went on to acquire a master’s in Judaic Studies and became a one-woman Jewish teaching institution. She instructed day school and Hebrew School students for 50 years across Los Angeles. She moved to Portland in 2017 to be closer to Gary and his wife Esther (a bead artist and member of ORA Northwest Jewish Artists), and into Rose Schnitzer Manor. Instead of becoming cynical and disillusioned with humanity, Sonia’s dark youth intersected with a scrappy, discerning personality, tenaciously turning her into someone always seeking to be a mensch—a good human. “I am not the best person in the world,” she admits, “but I try to be good to people. G-d gave us good and bad,” she adds. “When I see someone who is homeless, for instance, I don’t judge. We are not better, smarter, than they are. We shouldn’t judge. We need to ask, ‘What happened to them to make them this way?’ There is always a reason,” she insists, having long been traumatized and homeless herself. Ever the master educator, Sonia now visits students at local high schools, sharing the history and truth of the Holocaust. She offers messages we would all do well to heed: “If you strongly believe in justice, fight for it. Stand up. Not with your fist—if you are able to do so, talk and reach resolution. Talk. You have to try. But,” she raises a finger as a caveat, insistent, “in Judaism you only have to ask forgiveness three times. If the third time someone is not willing to forgive you, that’s their problem, not yours!” She lives her words and has been known to “get in trouble” for ceaselessly defending others. She will take someone aside and tell them, “’That was not right, you embarrassed that person in front of other people. You should apologize. I will nag you until you apologize!’ And you know what? They do. They apologize!” “’Ima, do you have to fight so much for justice all the time?’” she says her son Gary asks her, “’Can’t you leave it alone, even sometimes?’” “I can’t,” Sonia confesses, shaking her head. “I am a human and I have rights too. if I am here in this world, I should at least speak up for those who can’t speak for themselves.”

If the walls at Rose Schnitzer Manor could talk, they might express surprise at a recent lecture in the May Living Room led by resident Marie Godfrey, Ph.D.

“Let’s start with our usual `Today in Genetics’ topic,” says Marie, cheerfully. “Today, it’s gene modification. You’ve probably heard the term GMO, or genetically modified organism. I’m talking about adding a vitamin D gene to a tomato. Perhaps we could replace the sun and vitamin pills with tasty tomatoes. As you know, part of my job is to introduce you to modern genetics and then explain why the idea is a waste of time and money.”

Marie’s rapt audience nods vigorously as she takes a breath.

This isn’t the sort of gathering you typically find at an independent and assisted living facility. But Marie is not a typical resident, nor is she a typical female of her generation.

She describes herself as one in a line of four strong women who take on whatever challenges are presented. Marie’s mother, daughter, and granddaughter are her stoic and resilient partners.

Marie St. Pierre was born in 1941 in Hartford, Connecticut, four days before Pearl Harbor; her brother was born “two years and eight months later on the same day of the month.”

She said her parents were “uneducated”—her mother was good at math but completed only the fifth grade to work on her foster parents’ farm—and her father ‘read a lot’ but mostly ‘junk Westerns.'”

The family was very poor, says Marie, living in a small house with no hot water and an oil stove for cooking. Some food was from unlabeled and dented cans gifted by the grocery store and produce about to be tossed. They also had a large garden.

As for school, “I was always told by my father, ‘Yeah, you got all A’s, but how often are you going to do that?’” says Marie. “It was always sort of a half compliment.”

Young Marie was quickly put into advanced classes, beginning with biology and chemistry. By the time she was in high school, her teachers recommended college. Unfortunately, tuition was $150 a semester and housing on campus was expensive.

“I begged and borrowed and all the rest of that kind of stuff to go to college and looked at a variety of schools, ending up at the Hartford branch of the University of Connecticut,” she said. “My father was dying of esophageal cancer at the time, so I needed to be near home.”

I wanted to do research. I told them, 'I don’t know what it is, but I’d like to do it!'

After her father died, Marie was taking a chemistry class and helping set up the lab when her teacher had a “mental breakdown” and she was asked to take over the labs. From this experience came an invitation to the main campus in Storrs. “When they agreed to pay tuition and other costs, I said I would go. I wanted to do research. I told them, I don’t know what it is, but I’d like to do it!” said Marie. That fall she moved to campus and was assigned a genetics teacher who was teaching graduate students. Meanwhile, she was developing a feistiness that seems to continue this day. Marie received her bachelor of arts in zoology in 1963. When Marie was asked where she was going to graduate school she replied, “Are you kidding?” A male colleague told her that he was registering her to attend Johns Hopkins, which at the time had only men in its undergraduate program. “In the graduate program, though, there were women,” she said. Funding was through United States government research programs. Her three-part doctoral thesis involved studying a mutation found by a fellow researcher at the National Institutes of Health. “I needed to insert a gene into the standard strain of Salmonella typhimurium to provide a marker for identifying the location and orientation of the histidine operon,” said Marie. “My mutation was at the beginning of the operon; it inactivated all 10 genes. The mutation disrupted a TAC nucleotide triplet, inactivating the turning on of the first gene—and nine others--in the operon.”

I tried to get on the Vanderbilt faculty and could not. It turned out women weren’t allowed to be faculty if their husbands were faculty.

At Hopkins, Marie and a friend helped establish a graduate club. It’s still in operation more than 50 years later. Music and food attracted many male attendees, she said; Marie met her future husband, Andy Godfrey, there. While preparing for her thesis defense in microbial genetics, one of Marie’s reviewers asked her if she was planning to “get married and have children instead of working,” an allowable question back in the day. “Women were still a minority, an under-recognized group even at Hopkins,” Marie said, and then with her wry understatement added: “It was an interesting time.” After completing her doctoral degree, Marie did a one-year post-doc at Princeton University, working with a spore-forming microorganism. She and Andy were married in 1968 and moved to Nashville where Andy taught geology at Vanderbilt, and Marie accomplished a second post-doc year. “I tried to get on the Vanderbilt faculty and could not,” said Marie. “It turned out women weren’t allowed to be faculty if their husbands were faculty. I finally ended up getting a staff job helping teach a bacteriology laboratory for nurses and eventually replacing the instructor of a laboratory course in molecular biology.” Marie and Andy collaborated on a water contamination project in the Cumberland River that was published in the local paper. When someone else was tapped for the geology tenure position, they moved to Utah, where Andy worked for the U.S. Forest Service and Marie served as a volunteer educator for the American Cancer Society. This was the beginning of a 38-year life in Utah. “It was different,” said Marie, who had two daughters during this time. “There were no colleges nearby so there was no place I could teach. And I couldn’t teach in the local schools because I had a higher degree than other teachers or the principal. And, I wasn’t Mormon.” Marie spent a summer in southern Utah earning a secondary teaching certificate, and was later a substitute chemistry, and math, and English distance learning high school teacher. She taught night school at the local technology school and asked to teach advanced placement biology when she realized that the person instructing her daughter “had no idea what he was doing.” Later, she worked as the director of a women’s shelter, Girl Scout leader, and board secretary.On a trip to Portland for a triennial meeting, “I was introduced to Saturday Market,” said Marie. “I really liked the place and I found Portland safer than Salt Lake City.” Finally in a real city in Utah, she began writing for pharmaceutical companies and traveled frequently in the United States and Europe. In her job as medical writer and department director, she wrote clinical trial reports and summary documents for marketing applications for a variety of companies and drugs. Both of Marie’s daughters selected colleges in Oregon, married, and made homes in Portland. When Andy died in 2006 from a brain tumor, Marie bought a house here and finally made it back to Portland. Marie moved into Rose Schnitzer Manor in the fall of 2018 where cats Cricket and Panther were also welcomed. “There are a lot of activities here that people attend. People here are more likely to be educated than other places I investigated,” she said. “I didn’t know much about Judaism, so I studied the Torah for two years. As far as I’m concerned, religion is your own choice, and now that I know why certain traditions are done, I can understand them.” “I also learned that Jews love to argue,” said Marie, throwing her head back with a loud chuckle, “and that was good for me. The attitudes toward people and the variety of people here are much healthier than the other faiths that I’ve been near, and I like the fact that people are not judgmental.” Marie has found Covid and its virus fascinating to study and calls it the “smartest living un-living thing I’ve ever run across.” She challenges the misinformation about the Covid vaccines and includes information in her discussions with friends and those in the genetics class. In addition to teaching basic genetics to the Rose Schnitzer Manor residents, Marie is in the choir. She has been on the Resident Council. And in May 2022, she spoofed Cliff from the television show “Cheers” wearing a favorite t-shirt: “Never Underestimate a Woman with a Doctoral Degree.” “I love to talk,” she said. “I always say to new people, `I’m known as Marie who talks a lot.’ The first time I heard that, the other person finished by taking a breath. And then said, “but she’s really intelligent.” She appreciates that view.

Steve Rallison sits next to Cedar Sinai Park Executive Assistant Angela Deverell developing a new calendaring system for board communications. He has just left Executive Director Kimberly Fuson’s office after a meeting regarding the structure and frequency of board get-togethers. Up next is a briefing with Human Resource Director Geneva Dougal about staff hiring and retention. And that is just July 1, 2022—the first day Steve officially became Cedar Sinai Park’s new board chair. “I am at the stage of life where I can choose my passions and projects,” said Steve. Lucky for Cedar Sinai Park that the longtime senior services organization is both to Steve, who founded Performance Improvement Resources 18 years ago, a company specializing in strategic positioning, governance, and operational issues for healthcare organizations. “I’ve spent my career leading hospitals, working with physicians and practices, and I consider spaces where major life events happen to be sacred,” said Steve, 72. “I feel that way about Cedar Sinai Park, which has existed for an amazing 102 years. It’s my honor and privilege to serve as chair of the board of trustees.” Steve believes Cedar Sinai Park is at an important juncture with great opportunity. “It’s not without risks, though,” he said, “especially with Covid not yet in the rearview mirror, but we can create a sustainable, competitive Cedar Sinai Park. We must look forward and move forward.” “My beautiful wife, Sharon Stern, is Jewish, and I always say ‘a good Mormon boy meets a good Jewish girl,’” said Steve with a chuckle. “The rest is magic. We have great unity in loving God and our neighbors. The 10 commandments are a guide to all of us, not just those in the Jewish faith. “And the fifth commandment of loving our fathers and mothers is one I take very seriously. It’s deeply engrained in me. I’ve studied it. I think about it. And I try to live my life to those commitments. “I believe that we are here on earth to bear one another’s burdens. We are here to mourn with those who mourn and we are here to comfort one another and to rejoice with one another.”

The fifth commandment of loving our fathers and mothers is one I take very seriously.

Steve was born in Utah, and moved to Oregon as a young boy in 1957. He has a bachelor of science in sociology from Brigham Young University, and a master’s of health administration from Washington University in St. Louis. His 30-plus years of healthcare experience include leading large hospitals in Illinois and Michigan, leading a large multispecialty group practice in Minnesota, and consulting throughout the United States. “I have gone into some exceedingly difficult situations where key people have died or there have been embezzlements or other cases where organizations have lost their way financially or strategically and no one knows what to do,” said the becalming Steve. “I come in and get things settled down and then get everyone focused and aligned so the organization can move forward.” That background is how Steve believes he can help Cedar Sinai Park. “Cedar Sinai Park is unique in today’s world where most assisted living and long-term care homes are owned and operated by for-profit corporate entities whose headquarters dictate what and how things are done. What a great tribute it is to the Jewish community of Portland for its continued support to get us this far! But we cannot be stuck in the wonderful events of the past to move forward. “We want Cedar Sinai Park to become the preferred place for people and families who need the services we offer; the light on the hill, if you will. We are guided by the fifth commandment to honor our parents and also the commandment to love our neighbors, and we have the found of our Jewish legacy and the desire and will to be a leader in delivering senior services that are unparalleled in the Portland area.

Cedar Sinai Park is unique in today’s world where most assisted living and long-term care homes are owned and operated by for-profit corporate entities whose headquarters dictate what and how things are done.

To become that preferred place, Steve said steps must be taken to improve financial stability and sustainability. “Our priorities are to find and retain staff, improve occupancy, improve data, make strategic forward-thinking decision, and build a culture of community. We have the staff and management to make this happen.” Steve believes the culture of community, especially, is key for a vibrant future for the organization. “When you look at the changing world and not just the change in demographics, it’s how we are all aging and what we expect out of our aging experience. None of us want to be institutionalized. We all want to have the opportunity to express ourselves, and to continue achieving our life goals. We want to feel connected, be known, and feel part of a community. “What we have to do is create a culture that is so welcoming that it validates who you are and what you want to accomplish at this stage of your life. We aren’t going to compete with other places that may have shiny buildings or amenities. But we can be a place people choose because of the meaningful interconnections made with the staff, the families, and everybody in the community. Steve and Sharon have 14 grandchildren, nine in Israel. They are avid hikers and bikers and like to take road trips with “binoculars, bird guides, and bird watching apps” on their phones. Steve also likes to garden and harvests fruit and vegetables for his neighbors. He consults occasionally, but most of the time he is engaged in interfaith activities. He is also on the board of Black Men IN Training. “I am committed, on behalf of the board of trustees, that we will put forward our best efforts as stewards of Cedar Sinai Park to work closely with management team staff, residents, and families to move us forward in the coming fiscal year,” said Steve. “I hope that our community will engage with us to be part of the culture of community as future board members, as residents, volunteers, donors, or friends of Cedar Sinai Park. We welcome everyone’s voice and involvement. “We are all in charge of the destiny of Cedar Sinai Park.