Karen Robison

Karen Pfeifer Robison,
senior pic

I am 16-years-old and a new student at Grand Island Central Catholic. 

My nine younger brothers and sisters and I have been plucked from the home, the neighborhood, and the school in Denver we've known all our lives to move to this obscure little town in the middle of Nebraska because of my dad's new job. On this first day of school, I am miserable and lost and can't find my way to the cafeteria.

"It's down the hall to your right," says a voice as if reading my mind.

Appearing beside me is a tiny little cheerleader in her cheer skirt and vest. "Be sure to come to the pep rally after school!" she smiles and dances away down the hall. I swear there are springs in her feet. Hers is the first friendly face I encounter, and quite suddenly I feel better. 

I can't possibly know on this warm September day in 1971 that the little cheerleader with springs in her feet will be my life long friend. Or that one day we will work across the hall from each other in this same beloved old school. Or that I will teach her children and grandchildren. Or that we will celebrate our 50th high school reunion with other life long friends in this obscure little town in the middle of Nebraska that, at this moment in 1971, I hate with all my heart.

Karen Pfeifer is a natural born cheerleader if there ever was one, and I have never met a person who could so easily bounce from person to person, no matter who they are, and make every single one of us feel comfortable and included.

"I always feel so happy when we're with Karen," my best friend and former GICC teacher Julie Kayl sighs again and again. "She makes every single thing better."

It's just as true now as it was then. But Karen Pfeifer is no pushover. As a freshman and a newly elected member of the Central Catholic Student Council, she soon tires of the endless discussions.

"Some people can talk all day and never say a word," she pipes up. The senior council members stare at her and promptly decide she should be the school representative at the National Student Council Convention in Burlington, Vermont. Unphased, she hits the road with like-minded kids from Lincoln and Omaha all the way to Vermont, stays in other people's homes, and meets with hundreds of students from all over the country. From start to finish, Karen knows not one of these people, but she has the time of her life. 

Karen, 1972

Through the grapevine, I hear another story revealing once again that tiny Karen Pfeifer is full of spit. Her boyfriend, Mike Robison, drives her and two other Central Catholic students to another town to cheer for a GICC football matchup. Karen, armed with her spirit stick and pom poms, is as excited as always. After a disappointing loss, Karen and Mike and the other couple dejectedly walk to the car while the other team's fans crow about their victory. All at once, the other Crusader from Mike's car taunts the opposing fans and starts a small riot. Karen has made me promise on my grandmother's grave that I will never divulge the identity of her hot-headed young friend. Okay, it was Jerry DeBacker. The minute red-haired Jerry riles up the crowd, the four Crusaders frantically run back to their car and, once inside, lock the doors. But the opposing fans - all students - pound and beat on the car, and one of them yells an offensive remark that boils Karen's blood.

"THIS is what you drive, you losers? This beat up old Ford?"

Karen Pfeifer won't stand for that. She scrambles from the car, kicks the offender in the shin, and chases him up the hill wielding her deadly spirit stick.

"My DAD sells Fords!" she screams after him.

For a week at school, Karen Pfeifer's violent outburst is all anybody talks about, and I have new respect for our feisty little GICC cheerleader.

Mike and Karen on their wedding day

After the class of '73 parts ways at graduation, Karen promptly marries her high school sweetheart Mike, who, even after the spirit stick incident, refuses to be intimidated by his ferocious small wife. With characteristic energy, Karen enters the banking industry and at the same time begins a family. In the meantime, I have enrolled at Kearney State and don't hear much of my former classmate until my mother calls me with devasting news.

"Virginia Pfeifer died," she tells me. Karen's mother. I am struck to the heart. Karen's mom, like my own, has been sick with breast cancer. I can't come home to attend the funeral, but a year later at my own mom's funeral, I see Karen in the communion aisle. She glances over at my sobbing little brothers and sisters huddled next to my dad and begins to weep. We are girls barely in our 20's yet have managed to become members of the same awful club. Not only that, but as the oldest in both our families, we feel the protective weight of responsibility for our small motherless siblings. 

It's a long time before we talk about that painful time in both our lives. I finish college and immediately secure a teaching job at my old alma mater to be close to my younger brothers and sisters. Eventually, I will marry John Howard and start a family of our own. Karen and Mike's little family grows, too. Their three little girls are all vibrant beauties like their mother, and baby boy Jake is the spitting image of his dad.

One glorious day Karen comes to work at Grand Island Central Catholic in the school's Development Office. I am overjoyed. As always, her cheerful and boundless enthusiasm is just what we all need. Karen learns the business from the ground up under director Art Krick.

"Art taught me so much," she says now. "Joe Parella was the first development director before Art Krick was hired. When Art left, I worked with Ron Bailey. Each of those men took the foundation to a new level."

When Ron Bailey departs, he recommends Karen for the Director's job. Some people balk at the idea of a female director, but Bailey stands his ground. Karen Robison is the ideal candidate for the job, he insists. She knows everybody in town and can take the Foundation to the next level.

She does, too, for 26 years. It is never an easy job.

"It seemed I was always worrying how we were going to keep the doors opened," she reflects now. "It was a struggle then and it always will be. But maybe," she says with a hope born of great faith, "there are great lessons to be learned from the struggle. Everybody wants magic answers, and there are none."

Her favorite part of those 26 years is talking to people who are still bitter about the grade school closures in the 70's and convincing them to move forward. Karen Robison's greatest attribute is her communication skills. She is cowed by no one and can relate to everyone. 

"There's a little of the Good Lord in every single person," she says. "Sometimes you have to look a little hard to find it, but it's always there," she grins. 

During her time as Development Director, the school starts a sixth grade class and adds onto the building. It's a big achievement for everybody, but she remembers attending a wedding when the biggest challenge of her directorship is issued.

Kate and Jer's family - from left: Jeremy, Joe,
Molly, Sam, Izzy and Kate

Ken Staab, a long time GICC parent, sits behind Karen at the wedding. She remembers he leans forward to say, "When are you building a new gym?"

Karen isn't a bit taken back. "When are you ready to start?" she shoots back. 

Central Catholic desperately needs a new gym. The original old Sweat Box, used by middle school and high school athletes at every hour of the day and night, is simply not equipped to handle a growing school. In spite of the worry about how to fund a brand new state-of-the-art gymnasium, Karen learns a very important lesson. 

Abbi and Jeff's fam -
from left: Avery, Jeff,
Hudson and Abbi

"If you want to build something big like a gym, you don't have to ask. People will give," she says. And they do. The brand new gym is built and dedicated in a very short time.

The day to day finances, however, still require Karen to use her magic to pry money from people. She remembers calling GICC graduate Tom Grennan whose own children attend Creighton Prep. 

"I know you're calling to get money from me," he laughs. "Here at Creighton Prep, we call the Development Director's job 'pickpocketing in the name of the Lord.' "

Karen never minds picking people's pockets, and there are very few people who can tell her no. 

In 2014, however, after 26 years, she retires. Her family is growing and grandchildren have arrived. One of those grandchildren, to my great delight, is also my brother Rick Brown's granddaughter - an enchanting little girl named Maggie. I'm overjoyed to know Maggie makes Karen Robison much more than just my friend but also practically a bonified relative. 

Em and Brad's fam - from 
left: Abby, Brad, Emily
and Shelby (Not pictured:
Andrew and Austen)

It also makes me happy to have taught two generations of Karen's family. Her kids Kate, Abbi, Emily and Jake are, to this day, still the most wonderful, loving and funny kids. However, there's something even better about teaching Karen's grandkids. It makes me feel as if our friendship has come full circle. Kate and Jeremy Mueller - another favorite graduate - send to us Joe, Molly, Sam and Izzy. I love them as much as I love their parents and grandparents. Even you, Sam.

Jake (currently dating
Jenna - not pictured)
and family - from left: 
Charlie, Jake, Wyatt and
Maggie

Karen and Mike follow their grands to their athletic events, musicals, marching band competitions and stage productions. However, Karen - being Karen - also has to expend energy in other places. After her retirement from Central Catholic, she's approached by two young men - the son and son-in-law of the owner of Exchange Bank. They remember Karen from Central Catholic and ask her to become a personal banker for their institution.

In my lovely friend's still spunky fashion, she replies, "You're hiring a
grandma, you know, not a Barbie doll. I'm not wearing a skirt and high heels."

Karen, Mike and one of
their many grandbabies

She doesn't have to, they assure her. For three days a week, Karen works at the bank and is, I'm absolutely certain, the light of the office. The work suits her, and she, of course, suits everybody else just fine. 

"I guess my baby-wrangling days are over," she sighs wistfully. There's nothing Karen Robison loves as much as a baby around the house. But her kids and now her grandkids are practically all grown, save Emily's little toddler Shelby. Still, Karen gets a lump in her throat when she sees her oldest and handsome grandson Joe who's just graduated from college. 

"The next generation is coming," she says hopefully. 

This beautiful grandma - and my friend for the last 50 years - is ready. 

For whatever comes next.