[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 148 (Wednesday, November 30, 1994)]
[Senate]
[Page S]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Printing Office [www.gpo.gov]


[Congressional Record: November 30, 1994]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]

 
                             JOANNE RATHGEB

  Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, on November 19, my dear friend, Joanne 
Rathgeb, died of breast cancer. She was at home with her family.
  Joanne played many roles in her life. In the theater, she was an 
award-winning actress, producer, and director. In education, she was an 
inspiring teacher. In her community, she was a loving wife, mother, 
sister, and friend. She lived an extraordinary life, bringing joy to 
everyone who was lucky enough to know her. To those who did not know 
her, but watched her public struggle with breast cancer, she gave hope.
  Joanne Rathgeb accepted the news of her cancer by taking on a new 
role--citizen activist. She got other women in Vermont, and across the 
Nation, to speak up and demand more attention to breast cancer 
research. I was proud to work with Joanne to increase breast cancer 
research funds. For Joanne and every family touched by breast cancer, I 
pledge to continue the fight.
  Joanne and Don Rathgeb have been two of Vermont's leading citizens. 
Both brought a wealth of talent and commitment to our State.
  When I went to their home after hearing the news, I shared the grief 
of Don and their family. I told them of how honored I was to have known 
Joanne and to have been her friend. I also told them that throughout 
her ordeal with cancer, during our many meetings, she always spoke 
about someone else's need and never her own. She was a courageous, 
selfless, and wonderful friend.
  I ask unanimous consent that an article from the Burlington Free 
Press, and the homily delivered by Tony Staffieri at Joanne's Mass of 
the Resurrection be printed in the Record.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

                       Remembering Joanne Rathgeb

       Don, Laura Mae, Elizabeth and Dan, Laura and David, Donald, 
     Vickie and Caitlyn, Mary Jo and John, Nonny Rathgeb and 
     Sister Mary Elizabeth, FR. Mike Cronogue, President Reiss, 
     honored guests, members of the Faculty of Saint Michael's 
     College, members of Joanne's extended family, neighbors, 
     students and friends:
       Good morning. My name is Tony Staffieri, and for the last 
     27 years I have been proud to call Joanne Rathgeb my friend, 
     my teacher, my second mother, my spiritual guide, and my 
     inspiration. Ever since that day in September 1967 when at 
     8:30 a.m. Joanne sprang into my life as my very first teacher 
     at Saint Michael's, she has been my friend.
       Throughout our friendship, Joanne and I have been there for 
     each other on countless occasions--I remember the day when 
     she first told me of the lump she had found in her breast. We 
     shared our friendship through diagnosis and treatments, ups 
     and downs, weddings, funerals, anniversaries, good reviews 
     and petty reviews. Clearly today is the saddest day of our 27 
     year friendship.
       Before she left us, Joanne had planned for today--you know 
     how she was--never leaving things undone. She asked that I 
     speak here today remembering her for her family and friends 
     and hoping to be remembered for whatever good she did or 
     laughter she brought to us * * * and asking pardon for any 
     name forgotten or for anything left undone.
       So how do you characterize a woman who is laid to rest in 
     the black robes of a Benedictine Oblate--who is also wearing 
     a Kermit the Frog watch? That was Joanne! She, like Kermit, 
     knew that it wasn't easy being green. And she would tell you, 
     just like she would tell Kermit, Be true to your greenness; 
     Hold on to your greenility; Don't deny your greenanity. And 
     by all means, remember you're a frog--be proud of it!
       My favorite Joanne story happened on her sabbatical in New 
     York City in 1988. What many of you probably don't know was 
     that Joanne was my roommate during her four month sabbatical. 
     If you don't think being Joanne's roommate was a scream, you 
     simply haven't experienced life.
       One afternoon when Joanne went out into the scariness of 
     New York City, filled with weirdos, kooks and nutcases (who 
     always seemed a little bit intimidating to Joanne), she had a 
     real New York experience. It seems she was shopping for a 
     Saint Michael's production. And on this particular expedition 
     she had purchased a number of rubber chickens and rubber 
     fish. She came cascading into my apartment as if she had just 
     discovered the secret to cold fusion, and declared, ``I 
     finally figured it out--I finally figured how to keep the 
     thugs from bothering me.''
       What Joanne had discovered on the streets of lower 5th 
     Avenue this cool spring day was, what she was later to refer 
     to as her ``rubber chicken lady walk.'' ``There I was'', 
     she recalled, ``in my nice big coat, hair flying dirty 
     sneakers and a bagful of rubber chickens. If they aren't 
     scared of that, start talking out loud. And if that 
     doesn't work--cross the street, and walk right towards 
     them!''
       And that's how one frail woman with a great big coat and a 
     bagful of rubber chickens handled some street thug who 
     probably had a knife and an automatic weapons!--and who's 
     still talking about his encounter with Joanne Rathgeb.
       As Dolly Parton says, ``Laughter through tears, my favorite 
     emotion.''
       On October 17 of this year I spent the day with Joanne. 
     Clearly the days left together would be few, and I relished 
     this time to be with her alone for it was my duty and 
     distinct honor to ask her, what she would like remembered 
     here today.
       Her cousin, a Benedictine Monk, Brother Gerard, had taught 
     Joanne to see her life and work as prayer. And she later 
     pledged her life to this philosophy of work as prayer. She 
     recalled, ``I see everything we do as prayer; from teaching 
     to changing a diaper.'' And that is how we should all 
     remember Joanne Ellspermann Rathgeb--her life as a prayer.
       Recalling her life in this year's fall as the trees 
     foreshadowed what was to come just one month later, Joanne 
     recounted a story she chose never to forget. As she looked 
     out through her front window, she brought me back to the mid 
     1950s when her student won the first black actor's award in a 
     one play contest in Chicago--an achievement that would be 
     echoed again 30 years later as her students won unprecedented 
     back-to-back awards at the Kennedy Center Honors in 
     Washington, DC.
       But back in the 50s though, this was a first for Joanne. 
     Her group of theatre friends--mixed blacks and whites went 
     for a swim at a Chicago beach after the awards ceremony. And 
     she recalled, ``The joy of theatre people coming together was 
     shattered because it was a whites only beach.'' This was an 
     important lesson for Joanne which was to mark her life with 
     purpose and, subsequently, influence thousands from the 
     profound lesson of righteousness she learned that day. Life 
     and work as prayer.
       Later in early 60s, Joanne recalled arriving at St. Mary's 
     of the Woods College . . . having just learned that she was 
     pregnant with Elizabeth. ``The College had a rule,'' Joanne 
     observed with a bit of irony, ``that all pregnant teachers 
     had to stop teaching. But we had a very progressive 
     president, Sister Mary Madaleva.'' Joanne went to Sister 
     Madaleva and made her case . . . in a way she was to do 30 
     years later to Congressmen and Senators in Washington. 
     ``Sister,'' she noted, ``you're asking us to teach young 
     women in the world and to equip them to compete on the same 
     level as men--but you're taking us out of the classroom as if 
     being pregnant diminished our brain power.'' To which Sister 
     Mary Madaleva replied, ``My Dear, you're absolutely right. I 
     guess we'll have to change that rule, won't we.'' And 
     Joanne's been clearing a path and changing the rules ever 
     since. A champion in her work, in her life and in her 
     wonderful manner. Her life and work as prayer.
       Joanne cared for others even as she lay dying. When she 
     learned that a colleague's son--Ben Lindau, Buff's son, had 
     been diagnosed with cancer--she made a point to call Buff 
     from her bed to offer solace, guidance and love.
       I'm pleased to report Ben is well and back in school and 
     Joanne's care and concern will forever be a fond memory for 
     Buff and her family.
       In writing this remembrance, Joanne's friends and 
     colleagues have told me in the last few days that they credit 
     her with saving lives, making careers, and fostering 
     marriages and families. It is no surprise then, that the most 
     important part of Joanne's life was her immediate family. Don 
     was her husband, partner, best friend, director of choice, 
     and coproducer for over 34 years. Never have I witnessed more 
     love and dedication than I did between Don and Joanne--Don 
     and Joanne; it's as if it were one word.
       I remember during Joanne's sabbatical visit--she hadn't 
     seen Don for about 3 or 4 weeks. And one morning I found her 
     in my kitchen ironing a dress. Joanne ironing was some 
     surprise. She was singing and humming to herself. Her hair 
     was in rollers and she was like a litter girl * * * and then 
     I realized, Don was on his way * * * and after 25 years of 
     marriage, she was still excited to see him.
       I was honored to be one of the children--natural, by 
     marriage, and acquired (that's my category) to have hosted 
     Don and Joanne's 30th wedding anniversary in June of 1990. 
     The commemorative photo album presented at that event was 
     entitled, The Dog is Sticking to the Kitchen Floor. It was 
     both a remembrance and a review of Joanne's housekeeping 
     prowess. She may not have been the best housekeeper on the 
     planet, but she kept the warmest and most wonderful house 
     anywhere.
       Her children filled Joanne's life. Their first child, 
     Elizabeth, strong, determined, caring, and for those of us 
     who babysat for this brood, the ringleader. She is here today 
     with the first Rathgeb son-in-law, Dan Pratt. Then Laura--
     gentle, gifted, her mother's image, the thought provoker, 
     supported today by her companion, David Leopold.
       Then there were the twins: Donald, Jr. and Mary Jo. Donald, 
     now a daddy himself, with his lovely wife Vickie and their 
     daughter--the apple of Joanne's eye--Caitlyn. Donald Jr. is a 
     true miniature of Don Sr., quick with a pun, gentle and 
     loving. And Mary Jo, with her husband John Balaskas and their 
     two dogs, Trixie and Ellie, which Joanne reveled in during 
     their last visit in October. Mary Jo is the one with the 
     impish smile and infectious giggle--the back-up ringleader 
     when Liz was engrossed in Barbie Dolls and wasn't available 
     to lead. In small and major ways they are all a reflection of 
     their mom and dad * * * and we see Joanne in all of them. Her 
     life's work * * * as prayer.
       As Bill Mannel, one of Joanne's former students recently 
     observed, Don and Joanne were for many of us a second set of 
     parents, a little more hip than our own folks, more 
     understanding and willing to experiment, but real parents. 
     And for many of Don and Joanne's students, when they moved on 
     to form their own families, Don and Joanne became one of the 
     prototypes they emulated.
       And then there was Joanne's professional work. Educated in 
     parochial schools in Terre Haute, Indiana, she attended St. 
     Mary's of the Woods College and Indiana State University, 
     from which she received her BA and MA.
       Joanne's life was forever changed when in the late 50s, 
     while taking post-graduate classes at Catholic University, 
     she became affiliated with Catholic University's National 
     Players and another lifelong friend and mentor, the 
     wonderful, late Fr. Gilbert Hartke. She toured for two 
     seasons with the Company as Kate in Taming of the Shrew and 
     in Oedipus Rex, Twelfth Night, and as the nurse in Romeo and 
     Juliet. That tour brought Joanne all over the world--from the 
     400 year old Teatro Olipico in Italy, to the Carnegie Hall 
     Playhouse in New York City, to the Notre Dame University 
     Theatre in South Bend. It was there she met a dashing young 
     theater professor, Don Rathgeb.
       Don thought Joanne, at first, a stuck-up actress--until he 
     found her hammering away on the set one day. They traveled 
     together to Catholic University's Summer Theater, Saint 
     Michael's College, in Winooski, Vermont in 1958--where they 
     were to begin a 36 year run. Two years later, the cute little 
     actress with the ponytail--a young woman whose face we see 
     today in her three lovely daughters and grandaughter--married 
     the man who was to become her very best friend, partner, 
     father of their children, and, in the fall of her life, her 
     primary care giver, devoted servant and compassionate 
     helpmate.
       How do you characterize a performance career as diverse as 
     Joanne's--from her New York debut in the Phoenix Theatre 
     Company in Peer Gynt and Lysistrata to my favorite Joanne 
     role, Adelaide in Guys and Dolls, or Opal in Everybody Loves 
     Opal. She brought tears to even the most hardened eyes as 
     Emily Dickinson in The Belle of Amherst, and then too, tears 
     of another kind as Mother Superior in Nunsense. During 
     Nunsense, there seemed at times more nuns in the audiences 
     for Joanne's shows than on stage--we wondered when Joanne was 
     performing who was minding the Convent?
       One of Joanne's most enjoyable experiences was performing 
     in the CBS movie, aptly titled, A Gift of Love, as well as 
     several other productions, including Oedipus Rex and Minnie 
     Remebmers. Joanne was unforgettable as the stripteasing, 
     reluctant floozie, Adelaide, in Guys and Dolls as she was as 
     the tapdancing Mother Superior or the stately and detached 
     Emily Dickinson. To each of these roles she brought warmth, 
     depth and humanity. Her life's work a prayer.
       As a teacher no one could compare to Joanne. She could take 
     the dullest subjects and breathe life into them. She taught 
     Freshman English in my first year, and despite the 8:30 a.m. 
     class time and four young, very active children, she seldom 
     missed a class. And she was so compelling, we seldom missed 
     her class. She and Don are credited with inventing video 
     training in 1966 using black and white Sony video equipment 
     to teach speech classes. And the techniques they pioneered 
     were and are used far and wide from training elected 
     officials, a gaggle of Catholic deacons, cosmetic industry 
     executives, and even a recalcitrant stripteaser.
       In her classroom and her acting and coaching sessions, 
     Joanne was always a trailblazer. I remember when first we 
     met, Joanne smoked. Then when the government reports proved 
     that smoking was dangerous, Joanne stopped smoking, got Don 
     to stop smoking and got many of us to stop smoking.
       As only the second woman to Chair a department at Saint 
     Michael's College, Joanne guided the Fine Arts department 
     through its first major challenge, building a home for the 
     department during the three years of design, construction and 
     opening of the McCarthy Fine Arts Center. In 1993 when she 
     retired as a full professor, the alumni of the Saint 
     Michael's Fine Arts Department, spanning over 20 years, came 
     back to pay tribute to Joanne and Don. It was just one year 
     ago that our Fine Arts Family frolicked and played on stage 
     for Don and Joanne--who topped the evening off with what was 
     to become Joanne's last public theatrical performance--a tour 
     de force reading with Don of I'm Herbert.
       I was remembered being there with Fine Arts students 
     cheering and clapping for Don and Joanne. We savored these 
     moments.
       The last professional chapter of Joanne's life was recently 
     categorized in an editorial in The Burlington Free Press as 
     nothing less than a military campaign, where the foot soldier 
     and the general were one and the same person. In October 
     1985, Joanne was diagnosed with breast cancer. I remember her 
     call outlining the details, the therapies, the options and 
     her determination to beat this disease.
       She turned the frightening realities of hair loss due to 
     chemotherapy into a ravishing new fashion statement--showing 
     up at Donald and Vickie's wedding with a strikingly short 
     silver fox haircut which she dubbed my ``Chemo Cut.'' No, she 
     would not lie down and become a victim. Instead, Joanne rose 
     up and became a survivor, a leader, a champion. I guess when 
     you see your work as prayer, rising up--even in the most dire 
     of circumstances--isn't so unimaginable. For those of us who 
     looked on, we were humbled with awe.
       One afternoon during a visit to New York, where Joanne was 
     helping to comfort me through the loss of yet another friend 
     to AIDS, she noticed all the literature about AIDS and spoke 
     about how politically effective AIDS activists were. ``And 
     why,'' she asked, ``is there no such movement for women with 
     breast cancer?''
       The answer to Joanne became clear. In the absence of any 
     substantive movement, she would just get in there and do it 
     herself. ``I was never really politically active,'' she 
     recalled last month, ``but when your own survival depends on 
     activism, you can become a citizen activist very quickly.''
       Joanne approached breast cancer activism the way she 
     approached everything. And it was not without humor. When 
     asked to perform for a breast cancer fund raiser, she didn't 
     choose some dreary poem. No, she and Don whipped up a 
     hilarious original monologue, A Funny Thing Happened on the 
     Way to Radiation.
       When the National Breast Cancer Group decided to send 
     letters of support to Congress, they assigned Vermont the 
     task of obtaining 600 letters. Joanne's response was to 
     obtain nearly 14,000 letters. She galvanized women in 
     Vermont--and in other states--to speak up. ``Don't call it 
     the C-word,'' she would tell people. ``It's cancer, and you 
     must/we must be public about it. And force the men who make 
     all the decisions about research money to start giving us our 
     fair share!''
       She and Don went to Washington and lobbied Congressman 
     Bernie Sanders and Senator Pat Leahy to co-sponsor the Breast 
     Cancer Registry Bill--so that states like Vermont with small 
     populations, but with high incidents of breast cancer 
     (Vermont ranks 8th in the U.S.) could perhaps find some of 
     the causes. She was as eloquent with the men of power as she 
     had been with Sister Madaleva nearly 30 years earlier. The 
     need for the Breast Cancer Registry Bill became a political 
     fact of life and a reality. And although many others 
     participated, all agreed that Joanne was the prime mover in 
     Vermont--and her work had national ramifications.
       On Sunday, the day after Joanne died, I came to the house 
     on Seneca Avenue and found our Senator, Patrick Leahy 
     consoling Don and the kids. He was moved and in tears. He was 
     sincerely fond of Joanne. When he heard of my task today, he 
     made a point of telling me, ``Make sure everyone knows that 
     whenever Joanne came to me it was always for other people, it 
     was never favors for her; she was so generous.'' Work as 
     prayer.
       In a book of Cancer Stories that belonged to Joanne, we 
     found a telling phrase she had underlined, ``In the great 
     acts of life, we are often alone.''
       But in the sadness of Joanne's death, she was never really 
     alone. As one who has witnessed many friends die long and 
     protracted passing, I cannot help but observe how 
     extraordinary the care was that Joanne received from so many 
     friends and her family. Truly this is a community of which we 
     can all be proud. And when politicians refer to ``family 
     values,'' it is the good people of Vermont and this community 
     they should hold in their mind's eye as one to be emulated. 
     She received loving care from so many--those in the Cancer 
     Support Group: Jim Schwartz, Liz Russo, Mary Siegler, Bob 
     Tucker, Filicia Carreon and Pat Hanniford; her lifelong 
     buddies, Peggy O'Brien, Pauline Landry and Pierrette Roy; 
     students, friends, and neighbors like the Woodards and 
     L'Ecuyers, and always from Don, and towards the end, 
     Laura. All of these friends and family there by Joanne's 
     side comforting, administering--their lives now a common 
     prayer of support, and love helping to ease in the 
     transition as this magnificent flame flickered and then 
     went out.
       Joanne died in peace and with dignity. Laura and I were 
     there beside her. She had asked Don to celebrate their 
     achievements by traveling to Manchester to receive their 
     Lifetime Achievement Award from the Vermont Council on the 
     Arts--an award she would never see--but one she savored, for 
     this, like the three awards she received from Saint Michael's 
     was from her peers.
       As Laura observed, in the end, Joanne had only one thing 
     left, ``boundless love,'' which she generously shared until 
     her last breath.
       Towards the end, Joanne believed that she had not quite 
     done enough, but we knew otherwise. As she had wryly observed 
     in the Free Press, she ``brought warring factions together--
     from all three political parties and the various cancer 
     groups. She even succeeded in getting both U.S. Senators, the 
     U.S. Congressman from Vermont and the Governor and Lt. 
     Governor all on the same platform (a rare feat!) dedicating 
     Mother's Day as a Day of Remembrance for all those Vermont 
     mothers, wives, sisters and friends lost to this epidemic. 
     She was a general who saw the need to remember fallen troops. 
     And now, in May 1995, we will add Joanne's name to this ever 
     growing list of fallen heroines.
       If Joanne's death is to have meaning, then I urge all of 
     you to become citizen activists like Joanne. One voice, no 
     matter how timid or strong, can make a difference. If you 
     doubt this, remember Joanne Rathgeb.
       She taught us how to live. She showed us how to die with 
     dignity. And even after her death she showed us there was 
     still more to say. At her request, an autopsy was performed. 
     She theorized, ``If I'm going to go through this hell, then 
     let's learn something from it.'' From her life and her death, 
     she has planted the seeds from which knowledge will spring 
     forth. . . and in her way. . . her life, her work, her 
     prayer, will one day become part of the cure for breast 
     cancer.
       In another section of the Cancer Story book, Liz Rathgeb 
     Pratt showed me a section underlined by Joanne. ``I don't 
     think people are afraid of death. What they are afraid of is 
     the incompleteness of their lives.'' Joanne Rathgeb lived as 
     complete a life as anyone could hope to live.
       So, as we go forth from this house of worship today, where 
     so many chapters of Joanne's life are recorded, we bring with 
     us Joanne in our hearts. Her joy, her triumphs and her love. 
     Remember Joanne's life and work as prayer. For every time we 
     see an injustice and right this wrong, we are remembering and 
     honoring Joanne.
       Every time we hear laughter, especially laughter through 
     tears, remember Joanne.
       Every time we treat life's chores not as drudgery, but as 
     prayer, you will be remembering Joanne in a way she would 
     love.
       Every time we teach a child and see the light of knowledge 
     brightening in their faces, we honor Joanne.
       And, every time we honor and love one another, we remember 
     Joanne.
       Leave here today not in sadness, nor in sorrow, but in joy, 
     for having been even a small part of the celebration of 
     Joanne Rathgeb's life. Take her with you in your hearts as I 
     will in mine. Do as she asked me to tell you . . . . ``Love 
     one another'' as she loved all of you.
       You may be gone, but for the rest of our days, you will 
     forever be in our hearts and in our prayers.
       Good bye, my Darling.
                                  ____


          [From the Burlington (VT) Free Press, Nov. 20, 1994]

                         Rathgeb dies of Cancer

                           (By Susan Kelley)

       One of the state's most tenacious breast cancer activists 
     and the matriarch of northern Vermont theater died Saturday 
     morning of the disease.
       Joanne Rathgeb, 64, died at 10:15 a.m. Saturday at her home 
     in Essex Junction, after fighting breast cancer for nine 
     years. Her daughter, Laura, and a family friend were by her 
     side.
       Rathgeb helped raise awareness of breast cancer and 
     demanded more research into the disease. Vermont has the 
     eighth highest rate of death by breast cancer in the nation.
       But Rathgeb and her husband, Donald, also were known as the 
     soul of the St. Michael's Playhouse, the oldest continuously 
     operating Equity theater in the state. They were founders of 
     the theater department at St. Michael's College in 
     Colchester.
       ``She was my spouse,'' Don Rathgeb said. ``She was also my 
     colleague in teaching. She was my business partner. She was 
     my chief talent on stage, and she was a friend. I have not 
     yet realized what I have lost--although I'm quite sure that 
     having spent 34\1/2\ years together, that there will be 
     memories.''
       Rathgeb is survived by her husband, four children, 
     grandchildren, an older sister and brother, and a large, 
     extended family.
       Over the course of Rathgeb's career at St. Michael's 
     College as professor, actor, producer and director, she was 
     awards from Vermont Women in Higher Education; three 
     medallions from the American College Theatre Festival 
     national and regional competitions; and was a fellow at the 
     Vermont Academy of Arts and Sciences. Friday, she and her 
     husband received a lifetime achievement award from the 
     Vermont Council on the Arts. Her family traveled to 
     Manchester to accept the award for her.
       Theater critic Ruth Page remembers Rathgeb's talent 
     onstage, especially in comedic roles. Fans still remember her 
     lead role from 14 years ago in ``Everybody Loves Opal,'' in 
     which she played a women who recycled teabags by hanging them 
     on a clothesline.
       ``Whenever Joanne came onstage, it just brightened up the 
     whole audience,'' Page said. ``When my mom was in her 80s, I 
     used to take her to the Playhouse. Every time Joanne came out 
     in a humorous role, Mother would just crack up.''
       But Rathgeb was also a talented acting coach, Pahe said, 
     especially working one-on-one with young actors.
       ``She didn't order them around. She'd say `Let's try this,' 
     and kind of show them with body English, and they would 
     comprehend and try.''
       Rathgeb was born Joanne Ellspermann in Terre Haute, Ind., 
     to a family of German descent. She was educated at parochial 
     schools and showed an early interest in theater.
       She earned a bachelor's degree in theater and a master's 
     degree in English from Indiana State University. She also 
     attended St. Mary's of the Woods College and did post-
     graduate work at Catholic University of America. She taught 
     in the Chicago school systems and helped organize theaters in 
     Terre Haute.
       The bright-eyed, pony-tailed actress met her future husband 
     in South Bend, Ind., when she was 28 and touring with the 
     prestigious Catholic University Repertory Company.
       Don Rathgeb, who was teaching at St. Mary's of Notre Dame, 
     thought she was ``just a phony, sophisticated actress,'' he 
     has said.
       But that changed when he saw her working on a stage set, 
     scrunched under an 18-inch level and hammering in a nail.
       They drove together to Vermont to work at St. Michael's 
     College in 1958 and were married two years later.
       Even while juggling a family of six, teaching, acting and 
     directing. Rathgeb retained her sense of humor.
       She said in 1988 that if a movie were made of her life, the 
     title would be ``The Dogs are Sticking to the Kitchen 
     Floor.''
       Rathgeb was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1985. It was an 
     event that propelled her into the arena of breast cancer 
     activism.
       As she learned more about the disease, she found that 
     Vermont's breast cancer death rate increased 36 percent 
     between 1980 and 1987. State Health Department figures showed 
     that the rate increased from 27.4 deaths per 100,000 to 34.4 
     deaths per 100,000.
       But no research was being done to find out why Vermont had 
     the eighth-highest death rate in the nation due to breast 
     cancer.
       In 1992, she began a statewide registry of cancer victims. 
     She and others convinced Rep. Bernard Sanders, I-Vt., and 
     Sen. Patrick Leahy, D-Vt., to propose that Congress pass the 
     Cancer Registries Act. That legislation set up a uniform 
     system of collecting data on cancer in each state.
       She also participated in a letter-writing campaign to 
     collect 2.6 million signatures asking President Clinton to 
     develop a national strategy to end the epidemic.
       ``She was always in her own way making an incredible impact 
     on the work that's being done, even now. It will live on,'' 
     said fellow activist Virginia Soffa.
       In recent days, Rathgeb's health had deteriorated rapidly. 
     The cancer that had attacked most of her body had crept into 
     her bronchial tubes, restricting breathing and making 
     swallowing impossible.
       But her husband, Don, takes solace in having been her 
     primary care-giver for the past two months.
       ``I'm not sure if it feels like being a quadriplegic, but 
     there's a definite sense of loss.''
       He and his family were preparing for visitors Saturday 
     afternoon. Funeral arrangements were incomplete Saturday and 
     are being handled by Ready Funeral Home.

                          ____________________