Cutting a Rug with Moscow's Beloved Hippie Queen

Lois Blackburn: 75 Years of Kicking Ass and Taking Names

By Joan Opyr, 10-30-07

I’ve learned a lot from The Wizard of Oz. I’ve learned that too often we confuse cowardice with wisdom, that we must pay attention to the small man behind the curtain, that there’s no place like home, and that there’s no place on earth where there isn’t any trouble.  Most importantly, I’ve learned that “A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others.” I thought about this on Friday night as I attended Lois Blackburn’s standing room only birthday party in Moscow’s historic 1912 Building. Lois has never sought trouble, but she’s never run from it, either. And, if our hearts are judged by how much we’re loved by others, then Lois has made the right choices. This is a salute to Moscow’s Hippie Queen: Long may she reign!

I feel as if I’ve known Lois all my life, but in fact, I only met her five years ago.  It was in the summer of 2002 at the inaugural meeting of the Moscow Civic Association. Lois is a stand-out in any crowd, a beautiful woman with a strong personality and a deep, contagious laugh. How would I sum her up in a single word? Charismatic. That’s a term we toss around too lightly these days, but I know from charismatic. I grew up in the Deep South, where politicians, preachers, and homecoming queens have made charisma their stock in trade. Some, like Bill Clinton and Elizabeth Dole, have built their entire careers on that single quality.  Lois is the only Westerner I have ever known who could hold her own with the best of that Southern specialty crop. She is not a woman to be taken lightly. She is not a woman you want to make angry. Lois Blackburn is a force of nature—a benevolent, kind, and generous force, but don’t be a fool and stand in her way.

If you’re a decent sort and your intentions are good, you’ll find yourself winded, knocked flat on the sidewalk, wondering if someone got the license number of the bus that hit you. If you’re not decent, if you’re self-aggrandizing, malicious and bigoted, a house will drop from the sky and land right smack on your ill-tempered head.  There you’ll lie, with your toothpick legs in their ugly striped hose slowly shriveling away from your ruby slippers. Don’t count on your evil green sister to remedy the situation. Lois was expecting her. She’s got a bucket of water at the ready, and she’s taken the precaution of giving the magic shoes to a homeless girl named Dorothy.

Welcome to the club, Wicked. You’ve been pipped at the post by Moscow’s favorite progressive.

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