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  25 Chapter 2 “I Almost Cried” The Universal Longing for Home Domestic well-being is a fundamental human need that is deeply rooted in us, and that must be satisfied. —Witold Rybczynski, Home: A Short History of an Idea What is the matter with us that when you need home the most—when you need community the most, when you need choice the most, when you need self-confidence the most, when you need relationships the most—you don’t have it. It never even occurred to us that where you live could be a home. —Steve Shields, nursing home administrator In the spring of 1999, Steve Shields, administrator of a well-regarded nursing home in Manhattan, Kansas, was in the midst of an upheaval of his own making. Convinced that the organization he led was stagnating, he had embarked on an ambitious campaign to transform Meadowlark Hills. His plan was going well. He had persuaded a smaller nursing home in the community to close its doors and merge with his own, as a way to make both more financially stable. He had led one of the largest fund-raising campaigns ever seen in Manhattan, garnering $3.5 million in donations and a $30 million bond. Renovations were under way to modernize and spruce up the nursing home. The staff mood over the proposed changes ranged from hostile to enthusiastic. But things were moving forward. Still, something was not right. A friendly Midwesterner, Steve is an optimist. He may be the only nursing home administrator in the world whose former career was in offshore oil drilling. Accustomed to seeing clearly the path to solving problems, this 26 Old Age in a New Age time Steve felt a nagging sense of unease about the changes under way at Meadow­ lark Hills. Everything he had envisioned was coming to pass, but he took no joy in it. Construction trailers were on site, framing was up, we were roofing and I got this pit in my stomach. It was there for two months. I thought I had an ulcer. I couldn’t get rid of that pit. And the pit was telling me, “You’re off. You’re not doing the right thing.” I’m thinking, three-and-a-half million dollars that we’ve gone to the community for, we’ve got investors, we’re going to close this facility across town, and you’re telling me I’m doing the wrong thing! But I couldn’t ignore it. Unable to determine what was wrong, he convened a gathering of consultants in organizational change. They flew in from around the country. Steve sat them down in a circle, inviting them to give their pitch. They all seemed cut from the same mold: well-dressed glad-handers with slick proposals , versed in “pulling in stakeholders” and “posturing the organization.” All of them, except one. She was a middle-aged woman from Milwaukee, with strong features, large tortoise-shell glasses, and auburn hair pulled back in a French twist. She seemed more down-to-earth than the others, quiet but determined. When her turn came to speak, she leaned forward, looked him in the eye, and said: “You need to put the resident in the driver’s seat, and you need to create teams that will empower the residents in such a way that they will continue the fabric of their lives.” Then she sat back, letting her words sink in. That was LaVrene Norton. Steve soon bade the others farewell, and he and LaVrene talked for hours. Before she left, she told him he must make a journey. “There’s a place you have to see up in Bigfork, Minnesota,” she told him. Yeah, right, he thought. I can’t even see my desk or return phone calls, I’ve got so much work to do. I’m heading up this major construction project that I know nothing about. There’s no way I’m leaving town now. “Maybe in two or three months,” he told her. But she insisted that he go immediately. In fact, she intimated, he should have gone months ago. So he put his faith in her. He and his two directors of nursing drove two hours to Kansas City, flew to Minneapolis, took a puddle jumper to Grand Rapids, Minnesota, and spent the night in a lodge next to Judy Garland’s childhood home—something he would later find symbolic. Early the next morning, they rented a car...

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