Shirley Maiewski: A Tribute
Continuing a tribute for Shirley Maiewski, long time head of STAR TREK WELCOMMITTEE who passed away in April, 2004. The entry page to Shirley Maiewski: A Tribute
Part of A Companion in Zeor
Remembrances, for inclusion, can be e-mailed to Karen MacLEOD
Grace Lee Whitney, Ellen (Nell) Kozak, Shirley Maiewski at Febcon 1980. Photo provided by Ellen Kozak.
SHIRLEY MAIEWSKI: A Remembrance
by Ellen (Nell) Kozak
I knew there was something wrong when I didn't get a birthday card from
Shirley this year. Because I shared a birthday with her late husband
Phil, she never missed sending me a card.
But being swamped with work, it never occurred to me to Google her name;
instead, I called her home several times, finally connecting with her
daughter Carole, who told me of Shirley's death. Carole and I then shared
an hour long reminiscence.
Shirley was my friend-- my very good friend-- although nearly 30 years
and nearly a thousand miles separated us most of the time. We met--
where else-- at a Star Trek convention, where we formed a mutual
admiration society. I loved her short story, which I remember as being
called "The Midsifter," which had been included in an early anthology of
Star Trek tales. She loved a fanzine story I had written. We
encouraged each other to write more; I went on to publish several
fannish stories and two published science fiction (non Star Trek)
novels, but Shirley never really got back to writing, except her
wonderful monthly Welcommittee newsletters, and the notes she sent to
friends.
As I mentioned, we met at a Star Trek convention. We bonded over our
mutual love for opera (in our respective youths, we were both-- decades
apart-- dedicated to attending the Metropolitan Opera as standees). She
recruited me into serving as the (pro bono) legal advisor to the Star
Trek Welcommittee. She welcomed me into her home en route to a Boston
Worldcon. We roomed together at at least one other con-- a great honor
for me, because Shirley treasured her privacy at conventions and seldom
shared a room-- but we had a great time together.
Over the years, I ran up a considerable phone bill chatting with her;
now that I have free long distance, I had hoped to be able to call her
more frequently. I did once, when the free service was first installed
last winter. Now I can't. And I will miss the obvious joy with which
she greeted a friend's call. I will miss chatting with her about things
varied and sundry, from weather to cats to dogs to the current potato
crop to her grandchildren and my nephews to health and diet and
everything else.
Shirley was a breast cancer survivor-- people have forgotten that
because she never mentioned it. She never mentioned any of her
problems, although people often confided theirs to her because she was
such a good listener. Well, I take that back-- she mentioned the
Welcommittee's legal problems, such as they were, to me, but then that
was my job. She protected my private address by keeping it out of the
Welcommittee directory; as a result, I would receive each newsletter
directly from her (instead of in the mass mailing) with a private note.
Granting that I'm fannish and throw nothing away, I have kept those
notes, and periodically will come across one; this usually prompted one
of my calls to her. She'd send a note, I'd call. I'd find a note, I'd
call. I regret that I won't find those notes in my mailbox anymore,
although I will, of course, continue to find them among the fannish
collections in my house. But, as I mentioned, it was the absence of one
of those notes on my birthday that prompted me to call Carole and learn
that I had lost a dear friend. I'll miss her.
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