On the Dakota Trail: The Journey of Velarie and Kim.

I wish I would have kept a better diary of Velarie since leaving her at St. Vincent's on December 23rd. It has been a ride. Here are the mile markers from our journey.

I continued to speak with Velarie and Mjong Cho and Barbara, her social workers. Velarie would always tell me to "finish what I started." First, she would berate me for putting her in the hospital, and then end by agreeing that I had her best interest at heart. She also kept asking me for Butter Pecan ice cream.

In the 16 days that Velarie was in the hospital, I approximate that I made over 100 phone calls. From the SD Homeless Coalition to SD Social Services, to Southeast Behavioral Health to the SD Services for Aging to numerous shelters and living assistant facilities, I prepared for Velarie's arrival.

Usually, I was told that nothing could be done or prepared until Velarie was in the state. It was frustrating. We make it very difficult in this country to get assistance, especially without identification. I finally found an organization that could help us. Ward Enterprises has living assistant housing and had an opening in Colton; however, because she may have moments of dementia, and she may be a flight risk they would start her out in one of their nursing homes....in Garretson. Can you believe it? I FINALLY find Vel housing, and it is my hometown, located 20 miles outside of Sioux Falls. This story has officially come full circle.

On Thursday, January 3rd, Mjong called me. She and I had a hard and honest talk about Velarie's future. I shared with her the housing that I had arranged. She told me that she believed that Velarie would always have tendencies to be transient and probably would not be open to a nursing home. During Mjong talks with Velarie, Vel said she was eager to get to SD, but also wanted to get to Canada eventually. Mjong warned me that by bringing her to SD that I would be taking on a huge, maybe lifelong, commitment.

I prayed about it. I talked outloud to myself and wrote out a pro and con list. Then, I thought I needed to talk to someone who could give me objective advice. I knew that my family and friends would continue to tell me what they have been saying all along...that I had done enough. She had gotten medical care which saved her legs and probably her life. However, I had promised to bring her back to South Dakota. My choices seemed to be...a)bring Velarie to SD and risk her choosing to be homeless in our January temps if she doesn't comply with my arrangements or b)cut my ties and let her go back to the streets of nyc where temps are more moderate and the homeless have more opportunities for shelter and food.

I called Heidi Binstock, one of my ministers at Our Savior’s Lutheran Church. She listened and reminded me that I was not allowed to play the role of savior. I can assist her and create opportunities for her, but I can't save her. There is only one Savior. This was exactly what I needed to hear.

I decided that I had done all that I could do and bringing her to South Falls may have life threatening consequences if she did not accept my housing arrangements. The next call was to Velarie. I told her about the nursing home in Garretson and waited for the fallout. Instead, Velarie said that even though she did not like the idea of the Garretson (I will withhold any personal remarks about my own hesitation with having to reside in my hometown) and would rather be in her hometown of Watertown, she would trust my judgment. I about fell down. Just when I thought my road with Velarie had come to a dead-end, it had only just veered. I got off the phone and got busy.

I called the Social Services office in Watertown again. I asked for the woman that I had spoken to way back on December 18th when I first began my Velarie investigation. She had retired. Great. So, I started our story with this new woman. She immediately knew who I was and parts of the story. They had wondered, in the office, what had become of us. She asked if I had checked into Meadow Lake Acres, a living assistance home two miles outside of Watertown.

I called immediately and talked to Joyce Wendell. She and her husband own and run the facility. I told her our story. I included the part where she has neither ID nor money. Joyce said without hesitation, "Bring her to us. We will take care of her." I continued to tell her that Velarie is a handful. That she may have some dementia issues and is anything but a "sweet little old lady." Joyce was not swayed; she said that God has a plan, and who was she to not enter into it?" I got off the phone and just cried. I called my mom and said, "How can people not believe in God? Just when I am prepared to walk away, he gives me Lutheran slap on the back of the head and tells me to get back in the game."

The next step is transportation. I contact Amtrak. Because of Homeland Security, Velarie cannot use the train because she does not have ID. Next, I call Greyhound. I can book her a ticket. Perfect. However, when I go to do so, they tell me that they cannot take my credit card because the first leg of the trip is actually Capital Trailways and they do not do phone or online bookings. I call Capital Trailways. Approximately ten calls later, I talk to Helen who is in charge of lost and found...seems appropriate. I tell her our story. She agrees that our country has issues with helping those who want to better themselves. She has a brother that is experiencing some of the same issues. She not only passes me on to Pedro, a bigwig at Capital Trailways who breaks the rules and takes my card, but Helen also arranges for Velarie to be a ADA traveler so she will be escorted during connections and sat in the front of the bus. I cry again.

I contact Mjong and Velarie and tell them all the good news. Mjong thinks that someone from St. Vincent’s will be able to get her to the bus for the 5 o'clock departure. We have a plan.

Monday morning comes around, and I get a call from Barbara the other social worker. They have no-one to accompany Velarie to Port Authority. Here was something for which I had not prepared. I called a couple of people, but I had no luck. Finally, I called Mitch Maguire. He agreed to go to the hospital and help Velarie to the bus station. When they got there, it was discovered that her ticket had been changed for 11 pm instead of 5 pm. Mitch had to leave, so I had him get her settled and give her $40 which I have since reimbursed him.

Velarie was due to arrive in Sioux Falls at 11 am on Wednesday the 9th. Twice Nice Clothing Consignment had been good enough to let me go through their excess inventory to select clothing for Velarie. I took a lot so that she could chose her clothes and not just be given a boxful.

The bus from Minneapolis arrived in Sioux Falls sans Velarie. My heart hurt. I feared this, but I had hoped that she would have found her way to me. When I spoke to her on Monday, she had gone on about how she was opposed to coming to Sioux Falls. I tried to explain that she would not be staying here and that I would be whisking her away to Watertown immediately. Velarie was insistent that she knew her Midwest geography and that Sioux Falls was not on the way to Watertown. Can't argue with that. It was a fruitless conversation, but I had hung up with hope and anticipation. The reality was realized Wednesday. Unfortunately, the bus lines have no way of tracking individuals. They told me that I could report her missing in 24 hours, and then the police can extract files. I was told “I told you so” by a few people I love and respect. I left with a car full of clothes and a very heavy heart.

On Thursday afternoon, I received a call from Tim Quick, a human service employee from St. Cloud, MN. The minute he identified himself, I said, "You found her didn't you?" The answer was yes. Evidently, his daughter was driving in St. Cloud on Wednesday evening and Velarie was walking in the middle of the street. She stopped and asked Velarie if she could help. She took her to Melrose, a small town outside of St. Cloud. Evidently, the police there called the Watertown police, who contacted St. Vincent's which gave them my name and number.

To me, this is just another God thing. The fact that Tim makes his living taking care of those that cannot take care of themselves in St. Cloud, and it was his daughter who found Velarie is amazing. The police also located Velarie's sister, and Tim had spoken with her. He wanted permission to give her my contact info. Also, he wanted to know what I intended to do. Velarie had made it clear that she did not want to go to Sioux Falls. She claimed that I had misled her. She fell into her pattern of talking about a conspiracy and that I was now a part of it. Tim told me that after talking to her sister, he wanted me know that she had a history of mental illness. If I wanted, he would begin making arrangements for her in St. Cloud.

I called Joyce Wendell at Meadow Lake Acres and caught her up on the unfolding drama. She was still committed to having Velarie. I warned her about Velarie's paranoia and mental state, but she said that she had seen this before from people who have been "thrown away" by the rest of society. She claimed that Christ would not give up on her and neither should we. I called Tim back and arranged to meet him in Clara City to pick her up on Friday.

The next call came from Velarie's sister in Chico. She verified the fact that Velarie had worked for the CIA, FBI, a publishing company in New Jersey, NYU and United Airlines. Also, she told me stories about Velarie that included driving a motor home cross country, an excess of cats and dogs and unorthodox ways to protest civil disagreements. She also verified that she wanted nothing to do with her.

I got 5 hours of sleep before picking my dad up at the farm and heading for our Minnesota rendevous. Tim called and said that he would keep driving, and we could meet in Redwood Falls. Dad and I had a nice talk, but all niceties were out the window once Velarie got a glimpse of me. I think her first sentence to Tim was, "Where did you hook up with her?" She was not a happy camper. Once Tim told her that I was going to take her directly to Watertown, she agreed to get in the vehicle. Also, she seemed to like my dad.

It was a quiet trip to Watertown. She refused to speak to me. She would answer my dad, but it was just a lot of work. When we arrived, I asked her if it looked like the Watertown she remembered. Her comment, "What an idiot thing to ask. I haven't been here for years; of course it looks different." Okay then.

On the way, I had called the social security office in Watertown, but they echoed what I told Velarie which was until you have some sort of ID; you cannot collect your check. Vel was so awful to her on the phone that I had to apologize to her once I got it back in my hand. I take her immediately to the court house like she asked, so we could get her birth certificate.

The women in the Register of Deeds recognized us as I had called about this way back when I was still nyc. They were a bit shocked to see that I had actually got her there. So, here is the dilemma...you cannot get a birth certificate without an ID, and you cannot get any ID without a birth certificate. Velarie was not a happy camper before, but this made her down right irate, and I can't say that I blamed her. The women were lovely, and they had rules to follow, but it does seem like a backward system. Velarie told them - unkindly - that she had worked for the FBI and the CIA so why don't they just fingerprint her (I thought it seemed logical too), but evidently that was not an option. Finally, they said, that I could serve as her agent and if I had ID, I could sign and confirm that she was who she said she was. That would be great except that Velarie refused to let me do that "I do not want her to have any control" was her response.

At some point, the women must have gotten nervous about Velarie's attitude because a deputy sheriff arrived. She liked him. For the next half an hour, she bent his ear about everything from the conspiracy to take control from her to my misguided attempt to "save her from herself." He convinced her that the housing that I had lined up was a lovely place and that he was certain I was not part of a government plan to control her life.

Velarie was back on her homeopathic kick and wanted to know where the best pharmacy was located. We agreed on one thing...Wal-Mart was not an option. The deputy had encouraged her to go first to the group home and check out their inventory before going to the drugstore. Off to Meadow Lake Acres we go.

Two hilarious moments - First, as I was getting directions to Meadow Lake Acres from the deputy, Vel asked my dad about the officer's status. She said that she hoped he would make Sheriff soon. My dad stepped out of the Jeep and shared this with him. The officer said that, incidentally, he was up for promotion next week; therefore, he appreciated her sentiments. Dad told this to Vel. Her response? "Good for him, but if it happens, he should probably lose some weight around that middle." Too funny. Also, as we drove dove down 212, I reminded Velarie that I had spent a better part of the summer in the hospital with my dad as he combated cancer. She remembered each detail and was annoyed by the repetition of information. I think her direct quote was, "Does your university know how stupid you are? Why do they let you teach students?" She asked my dad how he was feeling as she thought he looked healthy enough. Dad responded, "I probably look better than I feel but at least I am still walking around." Without missing a beat, Velarie said, "You could be worse, you could be there." We were driving past a cemetery. Brutally funny.

Meadow Lake Acres is approximately 2 miles south of Watertown. It is gorgeous. I immediately embraced Joyce. She took Velarie and went off to show her around - her room, the breathtaking view of the lake from the community room etc. Velarie was not impressed. She went back out the front door and announced that either I could take her back to Watertown or she would start walking. As much as Joyce wanted to help all of us, she said that with the lake in the backyard, the freezing temps, and a respect for the other residents, she had to voice concerns about Velarie's residency. I could not leave Vel there. I liked Joyce too much to do that. We loaded her up and called the deputy.

We met him in the parking lot of Applebee’s. He could not have been nicer. He talked frankly with Velarie. He told her that due to the weather and her age, he would not allow her to be transient in Watertown, which was what she was asking. He told her that if she walked, she would be taken to the state hospital in Yankton. He then asked me to wait, with Velarie in my backseat, as he made calls.

Two hours later, he tells me that even though he appreciates my intentions, the citizens of Codington County should not have to pay for promises that I made in New York City. Velarie is my responsibility. He suggests I drop her off at the emergency room at Avera; Behavior Health will take care of her he said. This is not true. Unless she asks for a mental health assessment, they cannot touch her. Obviously, this will not happen.

I tell dad to grab the phone book and look up St. Francis House. I get a hold of Julie; she recognizes our story as they were one of the 100 phone calls I had made previously. "We will take her; bring her to us," was her immediate response. Again, God is guiding this journey. I tear up again somewhere between the Madison and Trent exit.

When we arrived at the St. Francis House, I said to Velarie, "Well, here we are Velarie. This is your new home." She responded, "We will see about that." I took a breath, held it and hoped for the best.

She walked in like she owned the place. She loved it....started a conversation with someone watching TV, and when I said, "Goodbye Velarie. Good luck." She retorted, "You are going to need the luck - not me." With that, I left. Velma (Velarie) Doris Bremer is healthy, walking with both legs, under a roof, feed, and warm in South Dakota. I delivered the goods....right?

There is not Hollywood ending here. There was no embrace. There are no "Thank you's." It is a story in which Oprah would probably not be interested. However, it is a story of at least one South Dakota woman who learned a lot. I learned that the breadth of human kindness should never be underestimated. I learned that despite one’s seemingly frail existence that includes living under the concrete protection of the lions at the NY Public Library, there may lie the courage and strength of a woman who has lived an incredible life. I learned that God will not be ignored. I learned that I will never tell someone, “I told you so.” I learned that we need to relook at the way we take care of the meek in this country. I learned that one woman can make a difference…Velarie changed me.

As a post note, the social workers and the AMAZING Julie and Kara Lee from St. Francis have called and kept me informed. Birth certificates are on order, Velarie is using the bathroom regularly, she recently applied for employment at the Argus Leader (with her 77 years and 7 teeth)….bless her heart. Today, I left her Butter Pecan ice cream.