Jean West

Jean West, born January 21, 1924, lived her motto. “Yesterday is gone, tomorrow isn’t promised, so make today count.” Every day of her 95 years was an exploration, a quest, for a person she hadn’t met, a story she wanted to hear, or a life in need of a quick fix. She was born in Lockney, Texas, to George Calvin Hillburn and Clarice Manning Hillburn, the youngest of their three children and the only daughter. She remembered Black Tuesday, October 29, 1929, lived through the Great Depression, and watched the Dust Bowl blow past her farmhouse home. As a young war bride, she saw her husband deploy to face the Luzon Invasion. Left with an infant daughter, she carried her part of the war effort on the home front, stitching parachutes and making do with the restrictions of the times. After the war, she was one of the growing number of career women taking on the business world. A strong set of office skills brought her to a long career with Sears, Roebuck, managing credit accounts for the growing department store in Lubbock, Texas. Miss Jean liked to say she was never bored. When she found life growing routine, she simply reinvented herself and looked for a  new world to explore. After her years with Sears, she found a change of pace as night manager of a family-style restaurant. She quickly became a favorite with the police officers on night patrol. They knew she’d have coffee and pastry behind the counter waiting for them whatever hour their shift brought them by. They made a hazardous trip by the restaurant on May 11, 1970, when a major tornado tore through Lubbock, leaving a path of destruction and dangerous debris behind. Miss Jean, with the help of her busboy and the dishwasher, managed to get twenty-three people out of the flattened restaurant, led them to shelter in a relatively undamaged building across the flooded street, and even had the presence of mind to empty the cash register as she evacuated her customers. The police came by, but she had already taken care of things. Leaving Texas for a new adventure, Jean West was, for several years, the hospitality hostess and general troubleshooter for a land investment company in Arizona. Her duties included arranging food, lodging, and entertainment for VIP investors, seeing they had transport to and from Las Vegas for shows and games of chance, and insuring the visitors toured the company’s properties in comfort. She thought it was exciting, but it wasn’t home. Still a Texas girl at heart, she returned to the Lone Star State to team up with her daughter in a new endeavor. For more than twenty-five years the two-woman company of Goodbye, Miss designed and made wedding gowns, coordinated weddings, and counseled hundreds of brides all over the Central Texas area. International weddings, celebrity weddings, small family weddings, and even hippy weddings in the park for late blooming flower children—Miss Jean and Company handled them all. In the mid-seventies Miss Jean came to Bastrop. Small-town life offered her new venues and she quickly became part of the fabric of the town. She worked with the Tax Appraisal District first, then became administrative assistant to the County Judge. She worked with Judge Jack Griesenbeck, and two succeeding county judges, coordinating their calendars, guiding citizens to county resources, and establishing the indigent health care program. Eventually she began to feel the need to reinvent herself once more. She truly enjoyed young people and had a unique rapport with them. This led her to help establish the Nazarene Christian School. She spent the next twelve years teaching in the school, working first with the lower grades, then as the school expanded, she took on the young teens of the sixth and seventh grades, an age group most adults regard as perilous and filled with emotional quicksand. Miss Jean, in her usual, charismatic and enthusiastic way, not only enjoyed her students, she kept them engrossed and striving. The young people quickly came under her spell, convinced she was one of the gang. Following her years as a teacher, Jean West worked as a volunteer with the Bastrop Police Department. She joined in on one civic event with the PD and was delighted to find herself photographed riding on the back of the Police Chief’s motorcycle. For her eightieth birthday, she ventured out for a new experience, taking a two-week Caribbean cruise, followed two years later by a six-week trip to Hawaii—by train, ship, and catamaran. Even when ill health finally slowed the lady down, she managed to find ways to broaden her life. She was elected president of the residents’ council when she moved to assisted living at Argent Court. Further curtailed by a fall and with mobility dependent on a wheelchair, she still managed to attend every social function, even the Elvis Presley look-alike contest, when she moved to Park Manor in Bee Caves. Coming back to Bastrop—coming home she said—she found Lost Pines Rehabilitation and Nursing Center full of familiar faces. Always a social butterfly, she knew every resident, every member of the staff, the names and ages of their children, what they did outside of the home, and who their family connections were. In Lost Pines, as the sun rose September 21, 2019, Miss Jean departed for a new adventure. Very likely she realized some things in heaven needed her attention. Possibly she thought she might find some new stories to hear and to tell. Just maybe she could find a lonely cowboy who was looking for a pretty lady who would teach him to two-step and waltz. It was Saturday night, and even in heaven there must be a dance somewhere. Miss Jean leaves behind her daughter, Fleeta Cunningham, granddaughter Savannah Olson, adopted granddaughter Tiffany Green, great grandchildren Kayleigh Hanna and Logan Hanna, and more friends, more recipients of her help, and more memories than most of us can count. We celebrate her life. We are thankful for the years we knew her. And we are richer for having had her touch our lives. Vaya con Dios, Miss Jean.