||| BY EILEEN DEAN, KAY GROSSMAN, LIN MCNULTY |||


Orcas Island recently lost a beloved icon when Abby Rueb passed on Monday, October 26, 2021. Our memories of this beautiful, gifted, impish little dickens kicked into overdrive, prompting us to recall and share some stories. 

We were all working at The Islands Sounder when we met back in the ‘early days,’ (which is also the latter days of the last century, right after Ted and Key Grossman bought a ‘shopper’ publication on Orcas and turned it into an actual newspaper). A somewhat novel Burger & Beer Book Club* (B&BBC) somehow erupted from that mutual employment.

We started a “Memory Book” at our second BB&BC* gathering that we used for keeping club meeting minutes. Everyone wrote something in it. Abby wrote, “I’m up for getting old together. We can rock our chairs on the veranda of our villa in Italy!”

According to the “minutes,” the Beer & Burger Book Club* first met in 2000 (although some said Jan. 2001). The last meeting was July 29, 2016. Our membership requirements were—you had to have worked at The Sounder in the early days, and be female.

As Kay reflects on what forged the Book & Beer Burger Club* friendships, “I have to smile at the fond memories of the all-nighters at press deadline time, the hilarious typos and misprints, everyone pitching in and doing some of everything, the communal meals, the kids pouring into the office when school let out wanting money for snacks at Con’s, the kids bedded down in their sleeping bags. The banter, teasing, the nicknames, the shenanigans.

At our meeting on October 8, 2013, Abby told us she and Rollie were going on a PB&J Road Trip. Rollie had just retired. They hit the road heading east and south, as the spirit moved them, stopping for peanut butter and jelly lunch picnics as they went.

Abby was multi talented—she had a well deserved reputation as a great cook/chef– often being recognized as “the best cook on the island.”  Many enjoyed the bounty of her table.  She loved to entertain, and the meals were always sumptuous.  For a while she wrote a food column for the Sounder.  It included helpful tips, and was laced with humor.  She could laugh at herself.

She was such a people person. She thrived and sparkled around people, and having lived here most of her life, she knew everyone. One Fourth of July Ted, Abby and Kay went to the Salmon Barbecue. As they wound their way through the tables to find seats, Abby stopped at every table to greet people, give a hug, have a chat. Ted and Kay joined a tourist couple at a table with extra seats. Having observed them all come in and Abby working the crowd, they asked if Abby was “the mayor.” Ted said, “Pretty much.”

In more recent years when we would meet for lunch to catch up with each other, it was the same thing. It took Abby so long to reach the table because she had to have a visit with the other diners, and as new guests arrived she would have to wave, call out a greeting. Good thing we arrived in separate cars because Abby stopped at all the tables of newly arrived diners to have a chat on the way out. We were on our way home before she got out the door.

Abby Rueb as Sister Mary Amnesia

Among Abby’s talents was, of course, the theater. She had a masters degree in Theater Arts, was a costume designer, wonderful actor and is remembered for her roles in community theater productions. She was a nun in Nunsense at Orcas Center, and she could do a spectacular Mae West. And whatever there is between the piety of nuns and the raunch of Mae West, she was equally adept. She could belt out a bawdy tune and had the moves to match. She could dance!!

Abby was the most generous person—sharing hospitality, reaching out to newcomers, getting people together, making them feel good. She was someone people easily opened up to and poured their hearts to. On the phone during her last hospitalization Abby was including the nurse in her room in the conversation. Even then she was telling how wonderful the nurses were and how they took such excellent care of her, referencing some personal details indicating that she had touched their life as she had theirs. She was sure to make them feel valued and appreciated. She was a class act.

Eileen Dean recalls her first memories moving to Orcas, entertwined with Abby, and on Orcas: “We sold a beautiful Victorian home in Utah at an awful loss about 32 years ago in order to move here. We had a piece of land here, the foundation had been poured, and we arrived with a sheep herder wagon, a campaign tent, and skills. 

“About four months later I started working at The Sounder. Abby asked where we lived; as it happened she passed our place every day. Is that YOU she said, with her special eye roll, oh my! I was in survival mode and Abby got that right away. Her kindness, and that of the wonderful Sounder staff saved my bacon.

“It is my best memory of her,” Eileen recalls. “There were invitations to events at her place, the odd cake, a little birthday treasure. But mainly it was her support and laughter that helped me through those early days here. I was a recipient of her largesse from year one on Orcas Island.”

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This video clip has nothing to do with previously working at The Sounder and has no bearing on the B&BBC, but it captures Abby Rueb perfectly.

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*Not even Abby could ever resolve what BB&BC actually stood for; we knew it was burgers, books, or beer but could never determine (or agree upon) in what order those Bs should be. It was something unique to each person, whether highlighting the beer, or the burgers, or the books. 


 

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