Jeanie McLain leans across the green-felt oval table and slides a card to the man with the “Veteran” cap seated behind several short stacks of poker chips. “Be my guardian angel,” urges Robbie, one of seven players hoping McLain’s deal will make them winners on a recent weekday afternoon at the Colorado State Veterans Community Living Center at Fitzsimons.
McLain, an 81-year-old volunteer, is guardian angel and more — though not so much for Robbie on this particular hand. The considerable pot in the game of seven-card stud goes to Angie, the diminutive lady in the red-and-green striped Christmas hat with the stitched-on elf ears.
The weekly poker game marks just one way that McLain and three other women from the Epsilon Sigma Alpha philanthropic organization serve at the 180-bed, long-term care and short-term rehabilitation facility in Aurora.
Before the hour-long poker session, McLain distributes packages of cookies and knitted scarves, taking care to make sure each resident receives a color that works for them. Year-round, she and her daughter Cindy Paytosh, Bonnie Young and Mary Humphrey call bingo, help put on holiday parties, create Halloween costumes and collect Christmas cards for residents to send relatives.
They also deliver handmade cards and corsages to mark Mother’s Day, boutineers or flag pins to celebrate Father’s Day and cards for individual birthdays.
But whatever they do, they make it personal.
“They never rush, always take the time to converse with residents and get to know them,” says Vanessa Carlson, the facility’s director of volunteer services. “They always go out of their way to make anything they give to a resident, including their time, extra special.”
There are 118 volunteers whose time and care contributes to the everyday well-being of the residents — ranging from those who stop by once a year to those who have become fixtures. The time around the Christmas holidays seems particularly packed with helpers manning parties and other activities.
The niche McLain and her group have carved out revolves around a familiarity with residents. Six years ago, during a tour of the facility with Carlson, McLain recognized that this place would be a perfect fit.
“My brother was in Korea, and my son was in Vietnam,” she says. “So I think you could say I probably do have a soft spot for veterans. I guess it’s kind of a patriotic thing. They did so much for us.
“When you see somebody who risked their life, or who doesn’t have a leg because they lost it in the war, you know how much they gave to you. So this is our way to give back. It’s just something that’s extremely close to my heart.”
McLain serves as the overseer for the group, Carlson says, while each plays a different role — whether it’s serving ice cream during the afternoon or sponsoring sales to raise money for activities. In whatever they do, they recognize residents and mentally catalog their personal interests.
“You could ask Jeanie to name three things that are special about each person around that poker table, and she would be able to,” Carlson says. “They individualize things with every resident. Coming in throughout the year, going out of the way to make unique experiences, they get to know them on much deeper level.”
McLain, who lives on horse property in Parker, drove a school bus for almost 30 years — most of the time shuttling special-needs students with whom she developed a special bond. Now, engaging the residents at the veterans home, she recognizes a universal desire for human interaction.
“The main thing they like is visiting,” she says of the residents. “They like you to talk to them. They’re lonely. They do get to be family. You get to know their names, their likes and dislikes. I’m 81, I know what it’s like to be old and not be able to do everything I’d like to do.”
She started her volunteer service in the ice cream shop, but quickly learned that she was physically no longer able to handle the heavy cartons. But there was plenty more for her to do, all of it rewarding in its own way.
Poker day every Thursday is just one of the highlights for McLain.
“They’d never have me in Vegas,” she sighs as she haltingly shuffles the deck. “I don’t know all the rules — but I have lots of help here.”
What she knows about poker she learned from an uncle in Mississippi who would play for matches in the barn because gambling wasn’t allowed in the house. The setup at the veterans home gives each player 70 chips to begin. The winner at the end of the hour receives $5.
But much of the fun emanates from McLain’s banter with the five men and two women around the table who make their way to the game each week with wheelchairs and walkers — and come away richer, one way or the other.
When the game ends — a soft-spoken Marine veteran named Josiah prevails — McLain moves around the table dispensing hugs and kisses in warm interludes that comprise her own personal jackpot.
“It’s the people,” she says.
Kevin Simpson: 303-954-1739, ksimpson@denverpost.com or @ksimpsondp
