Cathy Tutty

I don't remember when she was born. I was nearing three and had a brother who was 16 months. That was the only thing I don't really remember about her. She was my first girlfriend, my first playmate, and my forever friend and she is almost a year older ~ her birthday is tomorrow!
When we were little, she was with me almost everywhere we went. When we moved to Woolman Street, she found a new friend who was almost as tall as she was and who spoke the same giggle-language. To this day, if she and Lisa are together, I don’t think they talk. I think they only giggle.
When we were kids, we took twirling classes at the Walkerville Park from Kathy Brunell one summer. It was a hot day and we had to walk a mile up the hill. We made kool-aid in a big glass jug and she was carrying it and I carried the equipment ~ admittedly a mismatch for the size of the people doing the carrying. We were two blocks from home, approaching Lewisohn Street, and the jar slipped; she reached for it; it sliced her wrist open. Thankfully, Mrs. Seccomb was home on the same block and stopped the bleeding, called our parents and saved her arm and probably her life. To this day, I feel guilty when I catch a glimpse of that scar on her wrist. Eek
She is smaller than any of us, only reaching the five-foot mark when she has big Butte hair. One of the rites of passage for our nieces and nephews is to be taller than Laur. Most of them have arrived at that goal by age 12. She can wear very small clothes and usually has to get her shoes either from a specialty store or in the kids’ section. A number of years ago, all us girls (Colleen, Maureen, Christine, Laureen and me) were talking about sharing sweaters at Christmas and she piped up, “we all wear the same size.” Colleen picked up one of Laureen’s skirts, pulled it up over her leg stopping just above her knee, and said, “Sure we are! Your waist is the same size as my knee!” Brother Tim resolved it for us. We are all the same size. We wear it differently. 😛
She excelled at things that I failed at: She was dad’s favorite, his little weasel, and always got along with him. (He and I were a lot alike and had our moments.) She was picked for Purple Bz, something I always wished I could do and was never selected. She was selected for the Spirit of Junior Miss as a high school girl and was friendly and happy with everyone. I suspect I had a few enemies … and a couple people who didn’t think I was happy. I was. I just had a different way to express it.
Her activities in Junior Miss resulted in national attention and acclaim, attending and coaching a Butte lass in the program with a free trip to New Orleans for the pageant. She introduced little Miss, encouraging the participants to mentor young kids in the program. She involved guys as escorts, showing true class and style.
She loved being known as daddy’s girl and lived at home for most of her life. She attended Montana Tech (I will spare you those tales!) and worked as a waitress, learning the craft from Maria, a woman who learned to speak English from my grandfather. She eventually went to work at KBOW where she was the traffic manager for many years. Finally, after almost 30 years in Butte, she moved to DC, working as a nanny, a store manager (for a little kid clothing outlet!) and a pharmaceutical rep. Picturing her as a pharm rep might be tough until you know that she dressed in costume for almost every occasion, holiday or event. She was a chicken, a clown, tempted her teammates to dress in costume for the rollout of a new drug. Offices wanted her to visit. They loved her and she cared about them. And when that job was lost to corporate anorexia, she became a massage therapist.
She collected clowns for years. She has outfits for any and every occasion. She has a bachelor’s degree from Tech, a Masters from Marymount in Virginia, and is a certified massage therapist who teaches at Carroll. She is a poet, memorializing family occasions with her lyrics. She is an artist, building shadow boxes for all of us when dad died.
What really matters is none of that. What really matters is her heart. She doesn’t want gifts or things. She loves to spend time with people. She calls relatives and talks to people all the time. She is deeply spiritual, a Zen Catholic, who practices what she preaches. She moved to Montana, Helena specifically, to be with and for her family. She stays for the same reason. Happiness for her is a visit, a stay-over, a cup of tea or a good beer. I am envious of her faith and her love of our church, even as we struggle with crises.
A prime example of her passion and love of family and spending time: she regularly hosts a meal at her home when anyone might be in Helena for any reason. (I have learned to eat quinoa!) She wants us at her home. And it is cozy to be there. The rooms have been painted by the nieces and nephews, whatever they want to paint! It is not a designer house ~ it is her home.
Her relationships with the people who matter to her are deep and well-tended. She and dad were regularly the Santa and the Elf helpers in Butte for many years. They attended parties, masses, and did more than 30 home visits every Christmas Eve. She has the outfit, including the shoes, the hat, the facial features (for those places where she might be recognized) and the size to pass for an elf any time.
I am blessed to call her my sister. I am most fortunate to call her my friend. And while this is only a part of what you should know about her, it is my heart and my soul. Happy birthday, baby sister Laureen Patricia. May this be a grand trip around the sun. I love you, don’t you know?

The 2023 Kiwanis International Convention is here! We had the best day visiting with tons of people and many new friends! Wanna know what's up with this bicycle? Come see me at booth 304 in the main hall all day Thursday and Friday!