Scholarship named in honor of beloved local nurse

Linda Orr’s friends describe her as a firecracker. The petite, southern woman with a huge heart was remarkable, genuine, funny and constantly going above and beyond.

Orr died in July, and tears still flow as those close to her adapt to the loss.

“She worked until she went to the hospital,” said The Springs Living Vice President of Operations Nicole Jemmings. “She literally left work and was admitted to the hospital.”

Thirteen years ago, Orr was an LPN and started working at The Springs Whitefish as a memory care coordinator. Jemmings said that’s where her heart was.

“She loved our memory care. She wanted the best for the residents.” Jemmings said. “This was her world. The staff were her family. The residents were her purpose.”

Later, Orr was promoted to director and ran the health services department from 2018 until she left three years later, but she was never one for titles or recognition.

“Even when she had a supervisor, she was doing all the things,” Jemming said. “She would just silently make sure everything got done. She didn't care who got the credit.”

Jemmings said Orr, who was originally from Mississippi, was a tiny, wisp of a woman who was always put together with her makeup and hair done. She loved Tinker Bell so much she named her dog after the famous fairy with a talent for fixing broken things.

“It was her purpose in life to serve other people, especially people in memory care and the older generations." said Roberta Maness, Life Enrichment Director at The Springs. “And to help her staff become those people that have that servant's heart.”

When the facility hosted spirit days, Orr went all out. Jemmings said no outfit was too outrageous for Orr. She had an affinity for the 1920s and had a closet full of costumes from that era. She never failed to make the residents smile.

“She was genuine. She loved what she did,” Maness said. “She was funny as all get out, too.”

Her one-liners were called Linda-isms by some of the staff and she would share nuggets of wisdom in her sweet southern drawl, like “Girl, what other people think of you is none of your business.”

Orr went out of her way to make the staff feel appreciated by hosting Oscar-like awards ceremonies. She made statues from Barbie dolls, customizing each one to reflect the recipient’s interests. Once, she crafted black and white, Holstein-like chaps for a doll to be awarded to a staff member who appreciated a cow print.

“She would have one for everyone that was so true to that person’s personality. She made everyone feel special,” Maness said. “I truly believe that [for Orr], it wasn’t about her. It was about other people, lifting them up, letting them shine.”

THIS WOMAN who was so full of light was not without her own struggles. When she was pregnant with her second child, her first daughter was diagnosed with a genetic condition that led to her death at age 10. Her second daughter was born with the same disorder and died at an early age, too.

Later, her husband, Jamie, was in an accident that left him with some challenges.

“She had some tragedies in her life but they never slowed her down. I think she used them [by] helping other people through those tragedies because she understood a lot,” Maness said. “She used her experiences to help other people. Never a victim.”

Maness added that Orr would share her stories as needed and often reminded people that we don’t know the big picture.

After weathering the worst of the Covid-caused lockdowns, Orr was diagnosed with cancer and continued working for several months, until she was admitted to the hospital.

At the same time, Orr and her husband learned that their landlord had sold the land under their house in Martin City which meant the couple had to move.

“They had to move and she knew she had cancer, so they decided to move back to the South, to Louisiana, to be closer to family,” Jemmings said. “We were in a major staffing crisis and she couldn’t stay, she wanted to stay, but… she stayed on, working remotely for us for a year and a half.”

Orr was so well acquainted with the staff and the workings of The Springs, she managed the schedule and took nursing calls while she was going through chemotherapy treatments in Louisiana. When asked if the work was too much, Orr replied, “No, this is what’s keeping me going.”

Even when Orr was in hospice care, Jemmings found herself thinking that Orr was such a force, that if anyone could bounce back from cancer, she could.

She stopped working in March and died in July of this year.

FOR SEVEN years, The Springs Living’s Grow Together Scholarship Program has awarded $50,000 in scholarships annually to 75 students working in senior living. Scholarships can be used for continuing educational or professional development.

The Springs is honoring Orr’s legacy with the Linda Orr Nursing Scholarship, which will be awarded specifically to a nursing student. It is the company’s only named scholarship and the only one that is specifically for nursing.

“She had made such a huge impact company-wide,” Jemming said. “It was actually the president of the company that suggested we honor her… by investing in nurses.”

The inaugural recipients of the Linda Orr Nursing Scholarship are Maria Brookins, a nursing student at Miles Community College in Miles City, Montana, and Trey Slates, a nursing student at Montana State-Billings. Both work on the health services team at The Springs at Grand Park in Billings, Montana.

Walter Pearson and Anyssa Castro who work at The Springs Whitefish were also awarded scholarships this year. Castro is a dining room server and is studying speech pathology at the University of Montana. Pearson worked as a server while attending Whitefish High School and will be studying the culinary arts.

The founder and CEO of The Springs Living, Fee Stubblefield, expressed his respect and appreciation for Orr in a LinkedIn post recently.

“Thank you for the doubles worked, the calls you took in the middle of the night and, most of all, your life of service and love,” he wrote. “I hope you are okay with us honoring you with the Linda Orr Nursing Scholarship. I know you may not like this because you never sought the limelight or recognition.”

Orr’s bright light and caring energy live on in everyone who got to know her. Maness recalled a memorable exchange with Orr that illustrates her tendency to dodge praise. Maness was trying to tell Orr how exceptional she was:

“You just walk around being wonderful and you don’t even know how much you do for everyone. And she said, ‘Oh shut up,’ in that southern accent,” Maness said with a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. “She was very much loved by all and is missed by all.”