Florine Kirts

Florine Anita Waddill Kirts of Newport News, Virginia passed away Aug. 21, 2023 at Carla’s home in Smithfield. She was born in Clifton Forge, Virginia on Nov. 26, 1923 to parents Arleen and William (Bill) Waddill of Iron Gate, and on Dec. 12, 1944 married Wallace Keller Kirts of Clifton Forge. She is the Mother of Dale Kirts (Heaven), Gary Kirts (Smithfield), Carla Kirts (Smithfield), Rita Milby (Newport News), and Tina Conner (Stuart); Grandmother of Austin Milby (Newport News), Allen Milby (Cambridge, MA), and Cathrine Conner (San Diego, CA); sister of Charles Waddill and Doris Martin (both in heaven), and aunt to many wonderful nieces/nephews (here, there, and everywhere).
Services will be conducted at Nicely Funeral Home (Clifton Forge) Sunday, Aug. 27 with visitation at 1:00, funeral services at 2:00, and interment at Mountain View Cemetery. In lieu of flowers, donations to Florine’s local hospice would be
appreciated. Call 1.757.889.5900 or go to givebsmh.org (at top, select Bon Secours Foundation, click Hampton Roads; under causes click view all; select Hospice and donate).
Florine was best known for her loving heart and her full-face, beaming-eyes smile. Her loving heart and smile will be missed. Borrowing Keller’s favorite message to Florine, we love you “MTY LTT” (more than yesterday, less than tomorrow).
Florine (henceforth referred to as Mother) grew up on the Waddill Farm in Iron Gate. The West Gate neighborhood in Iron Gate was part of the original farm. The remaining farmland is still family-owned by the 4th generation. Mother’s grandchildren know the history of the property and the family members who lived there, and they thoroughly enjoy visiting as often as they can. Maybe one or more of them will be the 5th generation to continue our family connection to the land.
Mother loved growing up on the farm. She spent most of her time playing and working with her brother, Charles and she was known for being particularly good at working with the various animals they had. She was somewhat of an animal whisperer. When she was in her early teens, they had a huge, mean angus bull named Buck. No one could handle him but Granddaddy. However, Grandmother told of a time she came out on the porch and saw Florine RIDING Buck. Alarm, alarm alarm; panic, panic & panic! She wanted to yell out for her to “get off that bull”, but was afraid that would rattle Buck. So she stood there frozen, expecting disaster at any moment. Meanwhile, Florine and Buck took their time sauntering along here and there and all around the pasture before Florine FINALLY got off, patted him on the head (and probably told him “thank you, see you tomorrow”), and walked away.
After Mother graduated from Clifton Forge High School, she attended Radford College to study medical laboratory procedures and techniques. Mother loved home. (After all, “There’s no place like home”.) When she began at Radford College (at the age of 16!), the college insisted that new students would not be allowed to go home until Christmas break. Well, Mother just couldn’t make it that long; she went AWOL at Thanksgiving! She caught a ride to Iron Gate and was dropped off at the bottom of the hill. With suitcase in hand, she ran up the hill, across the upper field (Westgate), and down the rocky road to her house as fast as her little legs would take her. Grandmother heard her coming! She was home for her Dad’s birthday, Thanksgiving and her birthday!
Mother returned to Radford in time for classes to restart, but never said what the consequences were for her absence from Radford. She must have thought going home was well worth it. She completed her coursework at Radford and her internship at Garfield Hospital in Washington, D.C., after which she returned to Clifton Forge to work in the medical lab at the Chesapeake & Ohio Hospital.
Mother’s and Dad’s families knew each other well for many years. All the kids spent a great deal of time together. Apparently, as teens, there was no “spark” between Florine & Keller. In fact, Dad wrote in Mother’s high school yearbook: “Good luck until you’re married.” (Little did he know… haha.) After high school, the kids continued to be together a lot and we presume Florine and Keller were together even more…
Several years later, Dad went into the Navy (Sept, 1942). First, he went for training in San Diego. At some point, he decided to propose to Florine. He sent her a proposal letter from the ship, but forgot to sign it! Mother teased him about that every chance she got: “I said YES, but wanted to know exactly WHO it was that I was getting married to.”
Dad served on the USS Franklin-CV 13 (carrier ship). As a gunner, he sat backwards to and behind his pilot in their twoseater fighter plane as they flew many combat missions. From descriptions in his mission journal, which he was required to keep, it is an absolute MIRACLE that we, kids, exist!. Somehow, he survived many harrowing events in the air, and on the ship, which was seriously attacked several times by the Japanese. (We have the journal, but it is so frightening to read, we haven’t read it all.)
Mother and Dad got married in 1944 in Clifton Forge. They eloped because Dad didn’t have a very long furlough and they didn’t want to burden either family with wedding debt. Being Dec. 12, a friend of Mother’s had to come down to the farm to help her get through 5 foot snow drifts. Mother thought she had been pretty stealthy about packing and leaving the house. However, Grandmother knew what she was up to and she sent Florine off with a clear message that her escape wasn’t really a secret. When Mother opened her suitcase, she discovered her Mother had sewn together all of her undies! (haha) Also, Dad took it “on the chin” from Nita and Peggy (his sisters) for quite a while after the marriage because they didn’t like that they eloped. But all was calm very soon and both Mother’s and Dad’s families endeavored to be together through the years whenever circumstances allowed. (We love you, 1st cousins!)

Mother was the nicest, gentlest, most patient person you would ever want to
meet. She was just like her Mother and her brother, Charles. She delighted in
being a loving wife and a nurturing mother. Always putting others ahead of
herself, she made lots of good things happen for many, many people. She was
compassionate, content, competent, and caring. Smart, too. Everyone who knew her, loved her.

Mother and Dad were born for each other, and they were born to be loving, nurturing parents. We did everything together, as a family. We had fun and enjoyed life to the fullest. For us children, our adult lives have been rewarding, successful and content because of the supportive family life we had growing up with Mother and Dad at the helm. We were proud of them and respected them. Conversely, they were proud of us and respected us. In a letter Dad wrote to us kids before he passed away, he penned, “I know you will take
good care of your Mother.” He didn’t say, I hope you will; he said, I know you will. In retrospect, we’re grateful Dad had no doubts about that. Mother definitely deserved to be cared for with love and respect. Dad, hear this: we did take good care of her!!!

Mother saved Rita’s life. Perhaps this is the most significant event in her life.
It’s kinda a long story, but it’s well worth sharing.

Our family lived in St. Albans, West Virginia, 30 miles out of Charleston. Carla was 5, and the twins (Rita and Tina) were 2. It was a typical day; Dad was at work in Charleston, and Dale and Gary (older brothers) were at school. Rita, Tina and Carla were playing outside. Mother was fixing lunch and watching us through the kitchen window. She called us in for lunch. Carla ran to the storm door, reached for the handle, opened it, and scurried in with Tina on her heels. The door closed before Rita got in. She couldn’t reach the handle, so she pushed on the glass. When that didn’t work the first couple times, she pushed harder. She screamed! Tina and Carla reached the kitchen just in time to hear Rita scream. Horrified, Mother dropped an entire pan of tomato soup in the floor and ran to find Rita. The door glass was broken in large, jagged chunks and blood was everywhere; Rita had sliced her wrist. Mother gathered Rita into her arms. She wrapped her apron around Rita’s wrist, put pressure on the cut, and held her little arm up. Mother never let go of Rita’s wrist or let Rita’s arm down until she got to the hospital—getting there was not an easy or quick endeavor.
Mother had Rita’s situation under control for the moment. Now what? Problems began to mount:
•First and foremost, she couldn’t and wouldn’t let go of Rita for any reason.
•She had to calm and direct two small children and keep them in tow.
•She didn’t have Dad for help; he was at work in Charleston, 30 miles away.
•She couldn’t drive to Charleston; Dad had the car.
•She couldn’t call the rescue squad because the nearest one was in Charleston. It would take too long for them to come from Charleston and get back to Charleston.
•Cell phones didn’t exist then.

So, she sent Carla into the house to get her purse. She told her to carry the purse and hold Tina’s hand. She said, “Don’t let go of Tina’s hand for any reason, just like I’m not going to let go of Rita’s hand for any reason.” We headed down the street to find help. We hurried as fast as our little legs would take us for a long, long way. We went way past neighbors we knew, before Mother finally approached a house with a car sitting in the driveway. In
moments, the four of us were sitting in the back seat of a nice stranger’s car, rolling down the highway toward the hospital. Mother continued to hold Rita’s wrist and keep it raised. The trip seemed to take forever—“are we there yet?”

Of course, Rita; is alive and well today—because of Mother’s resourcefulness and persistence. When we returned home, Mother cleaned blood off the four of us, the front door entry, and the kitchen floor. (Yep, that pan of tomato soup she dropped on the kitchen floor sure looked like blood!!!)

Mother is the only matriarch left on both sides of our family. By definition, a matriarch is the oldest, most venerable woman in a family. That seems accurate enough, but a short, overly simplified definition without context and connotation seldom reflects true meaning. A matriarch is less about being old and respected and more about wisdom, character, fortitude, consistency, and love. A matriarch is a primary source of nurturing and leadership. A matriarch is a primary source of answers to life’s questions. A matriarch doesn’t have to do anything; she is significant by merely being present. Given Mother’s absence, we don’t need a dictionary to know what a matriarch is—our hearts know.

We wish you could have known the Mother/Florine that we know —the everyday, at-home Florine. Everybody who knew her, loved her. She made lots and lots of good things happen for many, many people. She was a very intelligent, competent, patient, strong, and independent woman. She was happy and content being an exceptionally devoted wife and mother. We particularly enjoyed that full-face, eye-glowing, dimple-producing smile she
flashed when something or someone delighted her. That’s the Mother we know and love. Many of you have seen THAT smile and felt it warming your heart.

The following was noted above in the third paragraph, but it bears repeating here as an appropriate closing:
Florine was best known for her loving heart and full-face, beaming-eyes smile. Her loving heart and smile will be missed. Borrowing Dad’s favorite message to Mother, we love you:
MTY LTT