Lurline Bird: At 100, lively and full of stories

Lurline Bird, 99, of Sonora is still active and drives herself to the grocery store and doctors appointments inside the city limits. Maggie Beck/Union Democrat, copyright 2009

Lurline’s time in the foothills has included the perfect partnership she shared for seven decades with her late husband, Ted Bird; the tender tolerance she’s sprinkled on her two sons, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandson; nurturing young, impressionable students as a kindergarten teacher; and a two-decade stint in charge of Sonora Community Hospital’s Lifeline program.
 

“She was the best teacher ever,” said Barbara Shaw, Lurline’s granddaughter as well as a former kindergarten student. “I called her grandmother. Everyone in the class called her grandmother.”

Other than some hearing loss, Lurline is still physically and mentally sharp.

In conversation, Lurline bounces from story to story like a teenage girl gossiping. To emphasize her stories’ climaxes, her arms flail, her bright-hazel eyes widen and her legs swing.

When she wants a prop, like the violin that led to her meeting her husband, she springs to her feet, plows through the hallways and rummages into a closet or behind a couch.

“She’s got a marvelous memory and is a great storyteller,” said her son, Bo Bird.

“She’s very sharp, still drives her little Toyota — has a perfect driving record, and her license is renewed till she’s 103,” he said.   

A long voyage began with that violin, now tucked away behind her couch — needing new strings to produce the music that brought her and Ted together.

Their love story began at San Francisco State University, where both were in the orchestra. Ted, who grew up in the mining town of Melones, played trumpet, and Lurline, who was raised in Oakland, had her violin.

One day in 1932, amid the Great Depression, after the band had just finished practicing “The Nutcracker,” students began picking up their instruments to go home, but Lurline’s violin was mysteriously missing.

“I saw him start out the door with it,” Lurline said.

When she confronted him, he said jokingly, “ ‘I thought I might get a buck for it,’ “ she said.

She followed her violin and Ted onto a ferry, where a conversation began that didn’t end for more than 70 years.

“It was just natural,” Lurline said. “We just got along so well. We never fought once ... We just grew on each other until we were inseparable.”

“He always made everyone laugh,” she said. “He always made me laugh ... He still makes me laugh.”

In 1933, Ted, who graduated from Bret Harte High School, returned to Altaville after finishing college. He eventually got a job teaching at the two-room Altaville school, where he later became principal. 

Meanwhile, while Ted courted her from afar, Lurline got a job in a similar schoolhouse in Copperopolis a year earlier, in 1932.

“I loved it down there,” Lurline said. “I lived with a family with five kids, and I grew up in a family with five kids.”

Ted built a home for Lurline in Angels Camp, and they married in 1937 in a small ceremony in her hometown of Oakland.

They raised their two sons, Bo and Dave Bird, in that home.

“She was pretty tolerant,” said Dave Bird, who went on to own a motorcycle shop and become a police officer. “She never really tried to hold me back. She let me do my stuff with motorcycles and horses — all the crazy stuff I’ve wanted to do. She was very supportive.”

In 1946, Ted took a job as principal of Sonora Grammar School, at the Sonora Dome. Ted built a new house for Lurline and their family on the narrow East Jackson Street in Sonora, where Lurline still lives.

After the move, Lurline taught kindergarten in Columbia and at Sonora Grammar School.

“For those 10 years, my husband was my boss,” Lurline said. “He used to say, ‘that role changes when we get home.’ ”

On a regular basis, Lurline’s ex-students, some of whose own children were also taught by Lurline, still recognize her and shower her with hugs.

“Practically every time you go to the grocery store or Wal-Mart someone stops her,” said granddaughter Shaw.

After Lurline and Ted retired, they stayed busy with Lurline’s work with the hospital, participating with clubs in the area and substitute teaching. Also, they traveled the globe — from Alaska to Hawaii, Europe and South America.

Lurline recalls a walk past the red light district in Amsterdam, Holland.

“There were prostitutes right in the window,” she said with a giggle.

Ted passed away in December 2007, almost reaching the century mark himself. As soon as Lurline is asked if she misses him, her hazel eyes filled with tears.

“I miss him so much,” she said.

Since Ted’s death, Lurline has continued to live and laugh.

“I think it’s just part of her nature,” Bo said.   

She’s surrounded by four generations of her family, all of whom live in Tuolumne County.

When she talks about her great-great-grandson, Conner Soria, 2, her eyes immediately widen and her smile returns.

She tells a story about one day when Conner was riding a horse.
 

“He was hanging on tight,” she said. “After he got down, he went right into the shed, scooped up two arm loads of hay and came back and fed it to the horse,” she said, while demonstrating.

The whole family will gather for her 100th birthday on Oct. 1. Like her life, it’ll be a simple, loving affair.

“She’s got a great sense of humor,” Bo said. “I think it keeps her going. Keeps her popular with everyone.”

But, also, she’ll miss Ted.
  

“When you’re married for 74 years — that’s a long time,” she said. “I miss him.”