By Chad Hershberger
I had the great honor of leading the funeral service for Carol Segraves on Saturday. Years ago, she asked me to be the eulogist when she died and I promised her I would do that. All week, I recounted Carol stories– there were so many of them. She provided a lot of material to choose from! Below is the eulogy I gave. I also posted a video tribute with pictures over the years of Carol at camp. You can view that here:
EULOGY FOR CAROL E. SEGRAVES, MY FRIEND
“Fat and Sassy.” If you would ask Carol Elizabeth Segraves how she was doing, she would reply with those words. “Fat and Sassy.” I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t smile when she said that. Carol lived her life loving and caring for all those whom she knew. She was truly THE model of no-nonsense love!
Her care for others came primarily in her cooking and serving of food. It was hard for us who knew her to control our waistlines because Carol was a good cook—a really good cook. I can’t speak much about the first half of Carol’s life, but I know that cooking was Carol’s passion in the last half. In her 40s, Carol enrolled at Williamsport Community College to study culinary arts. They assigned her to an internship at Camp Mount Luther during the Summer of 1985. She figured it would be a temporary summer job. Instead, she fell in love with the place, and we all fell in love with Carol.
When I first met Carol at age 13 as a camper, I’m sure I associated her with my worries about what she might serve. Little did I know how much influence this “fat and sassy” woman would have on me over our 40-year friendship.
Carol worked at camp for 10 summers, taking a break for one in the middle. I was a summer counselor and program director for almost half of those and I really got to know Carol. She often came into the kitchen at night, in her nightgown, to get food out for the next day. We’d be in the old dining hall on our nightly break, and she’d visit with us. I particularly remember a second-grade dance party when she danced with the kids and staff in the dining room. In her nightgown, of course.
One night, we were talking about movie actors and Sean Connery got mentioned. Without missing a beat, Carol remarked, “That Sean Connery… he can leave his shoes under my bed any night.” Carol’s one-liners were classic. She’d “go to see Mrs. Murphy” instead of going to use the bathroom, she’d “sweat like a bad girl in church” on hot summer days and of course, she’d remind us to “never trust a skinny cook” and “don’t sweat the small stuff.”
She also wouldn’t mince words. When Carol made ham, green beans, and potatoes for supper one night, one kitchen staffer was unsure whether to put out bowls or plates because of the broth. Carol said she could decide. Instead of the normal dinner plates, the young worker put out small dessert plates. When Carol saw everyone eating off the small plates, she shouted, “Who the hell put out these damn little plates.” Tension filled the air until a camper said, “Golly, did you hear what she said.” Carol sure had a knack of telling it like it was!
And she wasn’t afraid to make mistakes. I don’t know how many times I heard the story of when she made tuna noodle casserole for supper. She was involved in conversation while making it. When the dish was served, the campers and staff wondered exactly what kind of tuna noodle casserole it was. The tuna casserole didn’t have any tuna in it!
Carol was willing to talk to and help anyone. One week, a camp pastor had his dog with him during the week. He was concerned that for several days Molly, a yellow lab and golden retriever mix, wasn’t eating her food. He discovered why! He saw Carol feeding Molly leftover hamburgers out the back door of the kitchen.
Carol retired from camp (for the first time) after the 1996 summer season. She felt it was time to take it easy and do other things. But her heart was never far from the place that was her haven. Carol’s life wasn’t always easy, but she knew there was a place that she could return and feel the love of God through the friends that she cooked for.
It was the beginning of the second year as camp director that I had an opening for a cook. I knew what we needed. We needed Carol. I called her and asked her if she’d consider coming back. She said she’d think about it. She wasn’t sure she wanted the rigorous schedule again. I told her we should get together to talk about it some more. She invited me to her house for lunch the next week.
Less than an hour later, the phone rang. It was Carol. She thought about it, talked to her sister-in-law, Mary Jane, and was super excited to do it. All of it! I told her I was glad but asked if I could still come up for lunch! I did, and she baked me one of my favorite pies that she made, apple crumb.
Carol would always make special food that she knew we liked. Because I didn’t care for cherry turnovers, Carol would often make me a cinnamon sugar turnover. That’s the kind of love Carol put into her work. She often made these turnovers with the campers, too, asking them to serve them in the dining hall, which always put a big smile on their face! And hers.
Camp made her smile. Shortly after she came back, we held a weekend retreat at camp, and she was inspired to write the following:
“On a beautiful and cold Friday night in April 2003, I opened the kitchen door at camp to put away groceries when I heard a wonderful shout. ‘Carol,’ the voice said, and I looked to find a dear counselor from days gone by. That counselor is now a dentist, and he is married to another counselor, and they have three beautiful children. When I saw them, I thought, ‘Life is good!’ After our visit, I looked out in the dining hall and saw another counselor from days past. He is now a pastor and he, too, married another counselor and they have two beautiful children. And again, I thought, ‘Life is good!’ As I was working away, yet another former counselor pops into the kitchen. This one always came to the kitchen door, toothbrush and towel in hand to say a cheery ‘good morning’ to me as I flipped the French toast. This young man is now the director of this beautiful place. Again, I thought, ‘Life is good!’ And, I thought of dear Tom and Wes, who not only have helping hands but broad shoulders and a kind ear. As I left the kitchen to Oak Cottage to join my husband and granddaughter, my car, the trees, and the ground were covered with large lacy snowflakes, and I thought they were the icing on this beautiful cake called Camp Mount Luther. And I felt good!”
We had nine years of working together. We built a new dining hall, and Carol designed that kitchen which we named after her. She enjoyed working in the new kitchen. She had the equipment that she always dreamed she needed. There is a rocking chair on the porch of the Evergreen Center that honors Carol.
When I woke up on Carol’s last day as our cook, I started to cry. I was sad and also grateful to God that we could share our lives. That’s how I feel this day. Grateful that our paths crossed, and that we shared so many memories. Her spirit and legacy will live on in the difference she made. It will live on in our favorite Carol-made foods. And her spirit will live on when we get a great big hug from a grandmotherly figure who makes us feel loved.
One of our former camp staff shared this week that her favorite thing Carol made was Rice Krispie treats because Carol had a secret ingredient: more butter.
In her life, Carol’s “more butter” was her goodness. She lived that out in her identity as a child of God and in her dedication to what she loved- her family, her friends, and her camp.
Last Friday, when I visited Carol in the hospital and said goodbye, she flashed her memorable smile. I got to hold her right hand, the same hand that prepared so many enjoyable meals. While she wasn’t talking much that night, I remembered our last phone conversation. I called to wish her a happy birthday in November. She caught me up on what was going on with her and I did the same. She reminded me of her request many years to do her eulogy when the time came. I told her it better be awhile. She said she loved me and that she’d love to come visit camp. She wanted to visit the Chapel of the Holy Spirit, an outdoor worship site. And maybe cook a meal in the kitchen for some camp friends.
I’ve always felt that Camp Mount Luther is like a taste of heaven on earth. So, I’m sure that Carol is enjoying her new surroundings. She’s catching up with people she loves and recalling fond memories. She’s surrounded by God’s light and warmth. She probably has a small cozy cabin that was prepared just for her. And I’m sure she’s checked out the heavenly kitchen and probably used her “Food for Fifty” cookbook to make a few meals. Jim and others in heaven are certainly enjoying Carol’s homemade bread. And spaghetti. And cucumbers and onions. And bread pudding. And pies. And turkey salad!
To know Carol was to love Carol. To know Carol was to be loved by Carol. Carol, we are grateful to have known you. We are going to miss you. You had the biggest heart. You brightened our lives and this world with your wit, your food, and your love. Well done, good and faithful servant. May you now rest in peace, knowing that our love and care will continue to be shared in a tribute to all of your loving kindness.