Eve Wright

     Eve Wright, who managed the old Main Street office of The Cranbury Press in Cranbury, N.J., and wrote the"Around Cranbury" column for many years, died last Thursday (March 12) at her home in Hawaii. Eve, who was born in New England and lived in Cranbury most of her adult life, had a crispness and forthrightness about herself that let everyone know where they stood with her -- and that she didn't stand for pretense of any kind.
     When I became editor of The Cranbury Press in 1984, I was just another "Packet person" to Eve, and to me she was just another "oldtimer" trying to keep a community newspaper from entering the 1980s. Most of the time we got along, but when a close friends of hers died in her early 40s, and Eve came down to the office to write the obituary, she included in it a blurb about where her friends had attended high school and other little details that I felt were too insignificant to be printed. After all, any respectable daily paper wouldn't have used that stuff either.
     Eve minced no words in telling me that I didn't know the woman and I didn't know Cranbury, but if I'd get out of myself for a minute I'd realizae that those "insignificant" items were all she had to use to create a lengthy obituary for a 40-something-year-old wife and mother. Eve wanted the obituary to be lengthy so that those who didn't know her friend would see that her life had had meaning, despite its having been cut short.
     After Eve retired as office manager she continued writing her column each week and told of new neighbors moving in, old ones moving out, gardens to admire and the like. When the Garden Club had its annual front door-and-porch decorating competition, Eve would announce the winners in "Around Cranbury." She also noted what students were up to at Cranbury School, and never failed to cover the Election Night supper at the Presbyterian Church.
     Eve awoke early most mornings, about 4:30, and most days would already be at Teddy's door when he arrived about 5 to open his diner. When I wanted to write about the farmers, Eve would have me meet her at Teddy's about 5:30 so she could point out which of the coffee drinkers I needed to talk to before they left for their fields. And then she'd tease me about how I looked when I got up and out as early as she.
     Yes, Eve wrote about everyone and everything in Cranbury, except about herself. She didn't tell about how she and her husband Frank were among the first to create some affordable housing in town. And when the Press started a project to distribute day-old breads and pastries and over-ripened produce from a grocery in the Concordia shopping center, it was Eve who'd pick it up in her compact hatchback and help to deliver it in Cranbury, Jamesburg and Monroe.
     She also made soup and then served it at the Trenton Area Soup Kitchen. And when an Eastern European couple and their young son were permitted to leave their community homeland, Eve and Frank allowed the new arrivals to join them in their North Main Street home until they could get a place of their own.
     One morning while feeling spiritually bankrupt and drinking tea in her kitchen, I pondered aloud about how God decided which prayers he'd answer and which he'd ignore. Eve, an active and devout member of St. David's Episcopal Church, replied, "That's easy, he answers them all."
     What most people probably don't know about Eve is the extent of her generosity. One Christmas she gave gifts of jams and jellies to her friends here, and in doing so helped her friends in the Midwest who supported themselves by selling the breakfast treats they made. She gave away food right from her cupboard and money right from her wallet. And after she retired, she gave away her Social Security check each month to one charity or another, or to a person or family in crisis.
     (She would have been mortified if anyone had known how far her generous arms actually reached.)
     In her final weeks I kept in touch with Eve by E-mailing Frank. At the end, he said, she had peaceful, pain-free days and nights because of the care provided by Hospice.
     The day she died Frank wrote, "Eve did not want a memorial service. In fact, she had said she was starting a fund for a celebration party. We're thinking of renting a pavillion down at the old airport beach where she used to feed her homeless. We'll invite all our friends, relatives and as many of the homeless as we can find. Eve served them breakfast every Friday morning for over seven years -- up to the week before she went to the Mayo Clinic at the end of January. They were closer to her heart."
     And that is a little bit about a wonderful woman -- a mother of six and a beloved wife of almost 60 years -- who I came to know, love and respect while in Cranbury.
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[An article prepared by Dodie Murphy for the Cranbury Press]