Words that can change a community can be as simple as: “There is some office space in the back that I can let you have…” Sometimes revolution and healing happen because of one leader with pragmatic generosity and skillful organizing.

On May 23, 2015, Southeast Washington DC lost such a leader—-a woman who brought profound interconnectivity to the lives she touched. She did it by offering, space, hope, humor, and help.

I had only known Jeanne Shelton Gault since early 2014 when she began working on finding my husband, Michael Perry, and me a unit in the Naylor Gardens Cooperative Housing Association.

Naylor Gardens is often called “the best-kept secret in southeast Washington, DC.” It was founded in the new year of a new day—January 3, 1946. The war was over and the articles of incorporation of the Veteran’s Cooperative Housing Association were recorded. Naylor Gardens remains a cooperatively owned housing community and Jeanne Gault was one of the greatest advocates and activists that this cooperative community ever had. She seemed to believe in that spirit of a “new day” to her very end.

Jeanne spent much of her life growing up in Naylor Gardens and was, herself, a co-op member. She was also a realtor, a community philanthropist and a powerhouse of a woman who seemed to profoundly affect change one life at a time.

We went to her memorial this past Sunday, and it was like watching a scene from a Frank Capra movie. Except the woman who was being eulogized by so many people didn’t have to lose everything to appreciate her community and the people around her. And, unlike the homogeneous characters in It’s a Wonderful Life, Jeanne’s memorial was a parade of races, sexes, ages, and cultures.

One person after another told stories with a common theme:

They ended in: “You need an office to start your own business? I think you should. There’s space in the back.”

Or: “My door is always open, and someone is always in the kitchen, just let yourself in….”

Or: “My only question to you is, do you know how to bake cookies and do you like spinach squares?” The keeper of this last story said Jeanne took her in as family and provided something that was missing in her own.

These are just a few examples of the hours of stories the community lined up to share.

Jeanne’s daughter, Patrice, closed by telling us that, as much as we all loved Jeanne, Jeanne loved us too. She said her mom had a story about all of us. She told them to her family, friends and co-workers. She carried our memories just as we carry hers now.

Jeanne’s love of community had no circumference and the center of her generosity seemed to be everywhere. You can see traces of her work in all the member-owned units of Naylor Gardens (some of which Jeanne got her own family to finance for extremely low rates); in and around her office on Raleigh Place, SE (which I never saw, but was described to me as “being like the mayor’s office”); and along the homes of neighbors lining the streets where she lived.

In addition to being a backbone in several district wards, Jeanne was a pillar in Naylor Gardens. My husband and I have the honor of being the last couple she took into settlement.  She had fought for us and victoriously navigated the difficult negotiations of our share purchase.

At the time of our settlement, she was profoundly ill. She came in a festive quilted skirt with a smile on her face, accompanied by her daughter, and, by appearances, using a great deal of physical strength to complete this last job. She saw it through–all the way to our signing on the dotted line, and her smile never diminished. We left the settlement telling her our first order of business would be to have her for tea. “That will be nice,” she said. I carry the sweetness of the thought.

As I heard one testimonial of Jeanne’s generosity after another, I thought of a line from one of the books on our shelf she once admired:

To have a friend in need is sweet.
And to share happiness.
And to be a light.
And to have done some good before leaving this world….
Is sweet.

It would be nice if I could say that the good Jeanne Shelton Gault did for an entire city will ripple through time; but, that will only happen if those of us who were touched by her enthusiasm follow her example of pragmatic sweat activism–and offer each other a little space.

The change she affected was based on grace and care. Generosity can be an unstoppable force whose effects are felt immediately; and, its influence is contagious. Those she touched in practical and profound ways are left with the wonderful burden of relentlessly investigating the power of cooperative action.

Jeanne never stopped investigating that power, and a 43-acre cooperative community, hidden adjacent to Hillcrest, shines like a beacon of hope in an economy where housing is becoming more and more unaffordable. Washington, DC was left a sweeter place because of Jeanne Gault and her dreams can continue through us–if we roll up our sleeves and work just a little.

(Photo Credit: CoopsDC.org)