From the Alvin and Rosalie Sara Check studio PBS Kansas Presents Hattebergs People.

Some people leave their mark on the world in ways they could have never imagined.

And sometimes the most remarkable stories begin with the most ordinary lives.

On this edition of Hattebergs People, we take you back to a small town grocery store where a handshake meant something and customers were more like family.

Plus, a man who spent his career on a factory assembly line decided it wasn't too late to start over.

He had no experience in his field, but he had something to say and a community that needed to hear it.

And then a woman who devoted her life to children refused to let the passing years stand in her way.

What kept her going when others might have called it a day?

We're also show you how one man turned a career in disappointment into an unexpected creative journey.

He went from working with heavy machinery to creating something delicate enough for a bride.

And after years spent in the world of education, one Wichita man made a decision that left people scratching their heads.

He walked away from the career he knew and found happiness and a place he never expected.

Finally, forget everything you know about art.

One Kansas woman found her canvas in a most unusual place, creating designs so intricate that even a slight mistake could ruin hours of work.

You're going to want to see what she made.

Hello, I'm Susan Peters, and I'm Larry Hatteberg.

From unexpected second acts to extraordinary hidden talents.

These are the people who make our history come alive.

Join us for this edition of Hattebergs People.

These stories are like old friends.

Their lives radiate from the screen like prophets of the past.

They were teachers, but not in a classroom.

Instead, they taught about life to those around them who cared to listen.

And I was their student.

There was once a time when doing business simply meant taking care of your neighbors.

Long before mega supermarkets took over.

Almost every community had a little corner grocery store.

They were the kinds of places where the owners knew your name.

And shopping felt more like visiting family.

Well, in 1992, that spirit lived on at Boston's Market in Marion, Kansas.

Jack and Vernie Beeston ran that family shop themselves, serving longtime friends, not just customers.

All while knowing their special era was gently coming to a close.

You have to do a lot of visiting.

Just because we're all interested in each other, I believe.

We pretty well do everything ourselves.

We manage here, we do a nice business.

It's the kind of business the rest of us only dream about.

Bernie and Jack Beeston are their own boss.

I can say it's been good to us for three generations.

The Beeston family is owned this little market.

Probably been around the store ever since I was big enough to walk.

How are you?

And I'm Jean.

There are just the two of them, Bernie and Jack.

I am fine and the store has that Norman Rockwell feel.

That warm and cozy touch that tells you these are people who care.

Excuse me, ma'am.

Least in market.

Yes.

Okay.

Ice milk.

Okay, okay.

Later.

Thank you very much.

And we'll get it up to you.

Bye bye.

The Beeston market is one of the few that still delivers.

They don't have customers.

They have friends like this one lady we delivered to a while ago.

She has a regular schedule Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays.

And if we don't hear from her about 3:00, we call her.

Make sure she's all right.

While Jack's out delivering, customers come and go.

The sight of a television camera doesn't slow them down a bit.

How are you?

You want credit?

No problem.

Try that at the superstore and they get the cart, and they come up and fill it up.

And we write down each item on the price and sack it and say goodbye.

And the Beeston know nothing lasts forever.

I think we're probably one of the last.

I don't see it going on anymore.

I always thought, and if you had a business for your own, you were pretty stable.

But there's so many benefits you lose by having a business of your own.

I couldn't see anybody buying this.

I'm sure we'll just have to close it when we're ready to quit.

All ready to go.

There are always more deliveries, more folks to see.

But the Beeston slow.

The clock is ticking.

They're not only good friends or good merchants.

They're awful nice people, and they're very appreciative of what we do for them.

Jack and Vernie kept their family tradition alive until July of 1994, when they finally sold the market to enjoy retirement.

Unfortunately, the new ownership was short lived.

Beast on the market closed its doors for good in December of 1995, bringing an end to a 92 year old tradition in downtown Marion.

And that is a terrible shame.

Well, Jack passed away in 2008, and Bernie followed in 2016, but their legacy of treating every shopper like a lifelong friend remains a cherished piece of Marion's history.

I hate it when you when you have a couple who worked so hard in a store loved by the town, but once they're gone, sometimes you can't recreate that.

You can't.

You can't.

And 92 years is a long time and congratulations.

But they live on they do history with how to work people.

And that's what's so good about how to Burkes people.

Well, that's why we like seeing those stories still.

Exactly.

Okay.

Sometimes the most important chapter of a person's life begins long after they retire.

Yeah.

After spending his career on a factory assembly line, Al Hernandez could have simply enjoyed his free time.

Instead, he took on a brand new challenge, launching a local Hispanic newspaper with absolutely no journalism experience.

Yeah, it makes you feel like you're doing something.

Al Hernandez has been editing the Hispanic newspaper El Perico for 12 years.

You know, I only know I'll be 76 years this year.

Al is a quiet, spoken man who became editor of the paper with almost no formal training.

So he's had to work hard all my life.

He had worked for railroads and packing plants until he retired.

Then he found he had nothing to do.

I don't have no no hobbies to keep me busy.

Like, let them see what I want to do.

This ability to learn, let's say.

Yeah, but I wouldn't learn good enough to do it as a hobby.

At home with his wife, Mary.

They recall those days when al retired.

The first year was tough when he retired, and we stayed that whole year.

I told me the you get out and find, do volunteer work or I will go out and do it.

And you stay home and take care of the house.

First year, he said.

Got a you want to know everything.

You know I'm going to do it.

Who's on the phone, who's who came over and all that said, I'm not used to that.

I wish you were doing something to keep me away from the house.

So I'd say, well, rather than go to bed, don't find something to do.

And as long as I'm happy, he's happy.

Now he's happy.

It's nice when you hear somebody say, oh, I'm so glad you're here.

This has helped us out in a way so that that's a little encouragement.

A few other volunteers help al out with some translating, but al is the man who shepherds the paper to its monthly deadline.

He recently heard from a teacher who uses the paper in her class.

In part, she told him, well, you know, we sure enjoy that paper, and especially the kids in school again, it kind of I kind of think that I'm doing something to help the community.

Once a month, al takes his pay stubs copy to a printer's in Belle Plain.

My either mother must finish.

I'll call you just as soon as we start with it.

El Perico is published because volunteer Al Hernandez chose to do something with his retirement years.

The Hispanic community wins, and so does al.

People that has moved away from Wichita have asked to have the paper mailed to them.

That is going to 17 different states.

Now.

Al Hernandez guided El Perico for more than a decade, building it into a vital voice for Wichita's Hispanic community.

Now, he eventually stepped down to embrace the quiet retirement that he had put on hold.

Al spent his final years as a highly respected elder statesman in the North End, leaving behind a powerful legacy of dedication to his neighbors.

You know, and to have a Spanish newspaper in a large city is incredibly important.

It's so important.

And it had a following and people loved it.

And you have too many people to carry it on.

And, well, it's a lot of work.

It's a lot of work, isn't it?

Yeah, but thank goodness al did it.

He did it and he did it with zest.

He did okay for some nurturing.

The next generation is not just passing a phase of life.

It is a never ending column.

Connie Christiansen dedicated decades to taking care of children.

And she refused to let the old age that she was getting into slow down.

Well, you finish your luncheon and we'll go see grandma after a while.

Okay.

When most people are enjoying their retirement, 77 year old Connie Christiansen is still taking care of children.

I stagger you like crackers.

Well, of course you do.

Why not?

With soup, you don't want crackers.

During the day, Connie cares for two children of working parents.

And for the past 11 years, she has cared for her son's child, Jeremy.

Her son even enlarged the house.

So she could live with them.

So he built their own.

Especially so I could keep my organ and my round bed and a few things in there, you know.

And, here I am.

He's 11.

He was 11 in December.

And here I am.

Wouldn't trade him.

No, for a million.

Oh, you can get along with kids for you can't adults.

Don't you know that as long as you feed them and you're good to them and provide certain amount of entertainment, they're not going to give you any, any trouble.

For Connie, kids and cats are special.

She mostly just eats and sleeps to where all she does, and then goes outside and she doesn't pull any furniture.

We think she's kind of special here.

Connie should know about kids.

For 22 years, she took temporary care of over 560 children working with local social service agencies.

Connie was a boarding mother.

Little Guy was really something.

And he became an Eagle Scout.

Pictures bring back the memories, and there were those moments when it was time to give up a child.

Moments that were difficult for Connie.

The little girl peeked around the corner.

She says, my mommy.

I cried all the way back to Wichita, I value.

So when others are at an age where kids are for younger folks, Connie is happy to be with children.

A lot, I'm gonna say I wouldn't do that for you.

I'd get out and go somewhere or where to go.

I get to go.

I go on vacation if I decide to go to Colorado Springs.

Nice schools.

I don't go.

I do know some people that just sit around wondering what in the world to do.

What should I do?

You know, or you get tired of sewing and this type of thing.

What do you do?

You know, what Connie does is enjoy the kids.

I think it keeps you going because I know people younger than myself that have just practically given up.

What?

For years.

What?

You know, what do we do?

There's nothing left.

I don't feel that way.

This one here I couldn't part with an for love.

No money.

Nothing is wrong.

Does Connie feel cheated out of her golden years?

No, not in any way.

Have.

Well, Connie passed away just a year later, in 1990.

She was 78 years old.

She saw a need.

She fill that need.

And the kids loved her and fulfilled it up until the time she went to heaven.

So that's great.

Okay.

Sometimes the most rewarding career move has nothing to do with climbing the ladder.

In fact, it can mean walking away from the desk entirely.

Yeah.

For years, Dale Dunne was a highly respected school administrator here in Wichita, but he eventually chose to trade his office for the outdoors, leaving his education career behind to spend his days doing manual labor.

And he loved it.

I think we're ready now.

Rain fed grass grows like a juicy gusset.

Dale Dunn and his son Kipp help keep sassy lawns from becoming jungles.

You guys, I'd rather get the exercise and then sit on that lawn mower.

A father son team with a lawn mowing business.

Nothing unusual about it until you know Dale Dunne.

We'll see you down on South Civil in four years.

Dunne was an educator.

His last job was principal at Wilbur Junior High in west Wichita.

He was popular.

He was a hit with students and parents alike.

I'll go ahead and trim then.

And you can start on then.

An early retirement offer from the school system he couldn't refuse in 1990.

He left education left to push a dusty lot.

Now, there's not much stress to this job.

Teaching for me was not stressfu It seemed to change then.

Maybe I'm the one that changed.

I used to wake up in the middle of night and think and plan what I was going to do for the next day and lie awake things.

I don't do that anymore.

In fact, I sleep late now, so I'll stay out of the way of my wife and daughter.

My wife said I hardly have time now.

She said she doesn't understand how I could have ever held down a full time job.

Because I'm so busy now, I don't have time to do all the things I have planned.

Education was his life and he admits he misses it sometimes.

And as he mowed, he told us how he used to wipe down the tables in the lunchroom because it put him in touch with the kids his boss didn't like.

I wipe tables till the new superintendent came and he thought that was a he thought that wasn't what a principal ought to be doing.

But I knew it worked for me, so I kept doing it.

I cleaned up after a lot of kids, but, it paid off for me.

Now, this former administrator who ran a school of 800 kids and a large faculty, now he only answers to stubborn ones.

There are those who told him he's wasting his talents behind this lawn mower, then takes that as a compliment.

But I've always enjoyed physical labor, and, it's such a nice change for me.

And, of course, the nice thing that I don't have to do it if I don't want to read.

But he wants to.

He's nearly down to his Marine Corps weight of the mid 50s.

But he said he'd rather hang back till now.

And while he misses education, he won't go back.

This is his life now.

And he's happy.

Yes, sir.

I sure, I sure think I am anyway.

Well, they'll cherish those years spent working outdoors alongside his son.

He eventually retired for good and passed away in August of 2021 at the age of 91.

His son, Kip also gave up lawn mowing and went to work in the health care industry in the Kansas City area.

But you remember Dale.

I remember Dale doing very well because he was the principal at both my daughter's junior high.

Right.

Yeah.

And I was out there a lot, and we got to know each other.

And his super guy.

Yeah.

One of the nicest principals.

Real person I've ever met, you know, just a super guy.

And we stayed in touch over the years.

Yeah.

But, the the school system.

Mrs.. I bet they do.

I bet they do.

And he had probably had a great time mowing lawns in his later years.

There's something about manual labor that probably kept Dale very happy.

I think it made him very I mean, it was something he wanted to do.

And, I'm glad he was able to do it.

And I'm glad you were able to bring their success stories into it.

You know, you do not usually find a connection between gritty industrial metal work and delicate bridal lace.

But after getting laid off from his job in a machine shop, Sam Ames traded his heavy tools for a needle and thread.

He quickly built an incredible reputation for his breathtaking work.

A few years ago, this was Sam Ames grinding turbos in a machine shop.

We've changed this dress two times.

But today, Sam Ames makes prom and wedding dresses.

I think the thing that I enjoy the most is be able to create something that somebody else really enjoys.

It took a layoff from his job at the Machine Shop for Sam to begin his dream.

When I first got started, it was really you know, it was comical because people say he does those and now it's kind of, you know, settle down.

Wedding dresses are his favorite, and he's known in four states for his work.

I feel real proud.

You know, you kind of feel like the father of the bride in a way.

You know, you're, In fact, I've had some of my clients that will write me notes and stuff, and they'll put the father of the dress.

Sam's first wedding was in the 60s.

That's him with the flower girl.

And he had no idea then that his talent would take him from blue collar to white lace.

Okay.

Tomorrow will be better tomorrow morning, because it's all I got to do is just take the lining on the sleeves and it's done.

He used to take a lot of kidding about his job, and sometimes he still does.

But, hey, you know, you get to you get to fit all these beautiful women, you know, you can take, you know, you're around all these women all the time.

And I said, well, you know.

Yes, but still it's a job, you know, because I have to be very professional about it.

Some brides sell their dresses when the wedding is over, and Sam's wife, Rhonda makes dolls like these, and together they make a miniature replica of the dress so the bride can have a keepsake.

And most of the time after the wedding, when they come back down from that, from the wedding and they're coming down the aisle, you know, because I've got acquainted with them and got to know them, you know, and they said, man said she's beautiful, saying it's beautiful.

And, so, you know, that's what makes me feel good.

Prom dresses are also popular.

He's already working on one's for me now.

It used to be, you know, the southern belle.

You know, the real full.

Now everything's sequined and short.

Let's see.

This is what, the third.

Yeah.

Third dress that we've done for you.

Okay.

How's it feel?

You stop and saying, of course, your big designers are men, you know?

But, basically in a small town or somewhere like that, You just don't see it.

Sam says when he first started, there was always the joke.

And then their big joke is, yeah, honey, he's married and got two kids, so don't worry about him.

Nobody jokes anymore.

His work is just too good.

Each one you make, you put a little bit of yourself into and, you know, each each dress is different because each girl is different.

You know, each personality is different.

And, we try to bring that personality out into those girls, but yet some of my personality goes into that dress because there's a lot of work.

If I didn't love doing it, I wouldn't be doing it.

Well, that was 1993, and Sam continued to pour his creative gifts into the home town of Baxter Springs for many more years.

Now, beyond those stunning bridal gowns, he spent his time crafting beautiful stained glass and even directed a local high school musical.

Sadly, Sam passed away in May of 2024 after a long illness.

He was only 69 years old.

I can't imagine people having so much talent in so many different areas that you would never expect and you'd never expect.

No.

And look how much he fit into what I consider a short 69 years.

Oh, yeah.

But the metal working, the bridal gowns and then stained glass and everything, metal working bridal gowns don't seem to fit in.

They did for him.

I bet that some of those gowns are still around.

I'm sure they are.

Yeah.

And and so he's still remembered.

He is.

Thank you Sam.

When it comes to finding a truly unique canvas, some artists really have to scramble for new ideas.

But in 1989, I met one incredible artist who had an extraordinary talent for cracking a centuries old code with her intricate designs.

Marilyn Kane ruled the roost with her amazing attention to detail.

And as you're about to see, creating such masterpieces was anything but over easy.

These eggs date back about 6000 years.

So it's and it's just goes back to antiquity.

Marilyn Kane is an artist who creates Ukrainian eggs and art.

Few master with precision.

People will come up and they'll start crying because they remind them of eggs that their grandmother brought over from the old country.

Around town, Marilyn is known as the Egg Lady.

The process begins at the grocery store when Marilyn and her husband, Joe, search for just the right kind of egg.

And we go early in the morning when there's no crowd and and, get 3 or 4 dozen, depending on how many we how long we want to stand there.

Is that a scratch or just.

No, it's not only chicken eggs that Marilyn uses.

She uses nine other kinds, ranging from tiny finch eggs to the large ostrich egg.

Joe's job is to make a tiny hole in the egg and drain it of its contents.

Then the creative process begins.

After the design is drawn.

Applying the wax is called writing the egg.

I'm doing it.

Sunflower.

And where the egg is yellow, where I'm putting the wax now will be yellow.

The next step after this, I will go to orange.

I will dip it into orange.

So the more colors you have on an egg, the more dips.

They all tell stories.

They all do.

This one has flowers on it.

And flowers symbolize love and children.

This egg, when it's completed, will be a bandit egg, which means the design will go around this way.

And that symbolizes, as the wedding band does, eternal love and the love that Christ has for us.

Each egg has its own.

They're kind of little prayers.

Individual prayers completed.

The Ukrainian eggs are stunning.

These are meant to last generations.

They'll outlive you and I both.

And we have them.

Well lighted and in antique cases.

So they show off real well.

And, they're they're just so unique.

I'm just hooked on them.

They're they're my escape when I make them.

Well, Marilyn spent more than 30 years mastering this complex wax and dye process, eventually creating a massive collection of nearly 800 eggs.

Unbelievable.

Today, Marilyn is in her late 80s and enjoying a quiet life in Colorado Springs.

Her incredible collection is safely displayed in glass cases.

Standing is a beautiful testament to her resilience and this ancient art form.

I'd love to see those glass cases.

Can you imagine?

I can't imagine, what you saw on the eggs.

I could see it there, but the patience.

That's what I do.

Yeah.

I could never have the patience to do something so intricate.

And the joy she got out of that patience.

Yeah.

I hope some way she can see this in Colorado Springs.

Maybe we can send her the video.

Maybe that'll happen.

That one.

That is a wrap for this week.

We encourage you to email your questions or comments to Harrisburg's people@cpt.org.

I'm Susan Peters and I'm Larry Hedberg.

Thanks for watching everyone.

We'll see you again very soon.