When I came across her name in the obituary column, I wondered if there would be anyone to say a few kind words about her, but somehow I doubted it. She and I had lived in the same apartment building for a time, where our paths first crossed at a tenants' meeting. The tenant gathering had an almost festive air about it, with everyone enjoying coffee and cookies, until she showed up with the chill of the November evening on her pinched, angry face. The young woman I was chatting with asked me if I knew her. When I answered no, she whispered: "She's an awful bigot, and so vile tempered that we call her the Dragon Lady".
