11/30/2009
By GORDON D. FIEDLER JR. Salina Journal
When Ruth Holcom fronted for the band Sundusters, her signature number was the schmaltzy Barbara Fairchild tune "The Teddy Bear Song."

During gigs at dance halls and other venues, she'd entice a member of the audience to come on stage and help her sing the song, after which she'd hand the often reluctant performer a stuffed bear that she had whimsically dolled up.

She and the band routinely entertained during the Run for the Wall when the Vietnam Veterans group rumbled through town on their way to the memorial in Washington, D.C.

On one occasion, she launched into "The Teddy Bear Song" and picked out a portly biker, but he refused her invitation. Later, through tears, he told her why he didn't participate: One of his Vietnam veteran buddies recently was killed in a car wreck in California, and he was riding to D.C. on his behalf. His friend was known as "Bear."

Holcom recalled him asking, "How did you know?"

Her response: "God told me to put my finger on you. God knows I like tubby guys."

Holcom's days as a musician and as a collector and dispenser of stuffed animals ended in 2006, when she suffered a stroke. However, by then, her legacy as the "Teddy Bear Lady" was firmly established.

For several years, she donated scores of bears to her former grade school, Hawthorne Elementary School. She and her partner of many years, Gary Ackerman, figure she's restored and donated about 80 of the bears to Hawthorne.

She gathered her bears from everywhere.

"I went to garage sales, the DAV, Salvation Army, Goodwill," Holcom said.

After a thorough cleaning in her washing machines, the bears underwent extensive accessorizing in Holcom's hands.

"I wanted to take them to the kindergartners," she said. "Those little kids, they were so happy."

She figured adults could get some pleasure from the bears, as well, which is when she started passing them out during her band's performances.

After her stroke, she distributed about 70 bears among the patients at Smoky Hill Rehabilitation Center, where she received treatment.

But it is her association with veterans she is most proud.

A calendar hanging on the wall of her bear-infested living room is frozen on September 2007. The photo for that month is of one of Holcom's bears leaning against the shiny black marble of the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial.

It was given to a Run for the Wall rider, who placed the bear, affixed with Holcom's name, at the wall.

"Anything at the wall is removed after 24 hours," Ackerman said, "and put in storage."

There are plans to build a museum to house the mementos left by visitors.

During its brief repose, this bear was immortalized by photographer Dan Arant and used in the calendar distributed by the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Foundation.

"A lot of POWs called and said, 'Ruth, this is so special.' "

Despite her decreased mobility -- she can walk with effort, her speech is slow but deliberate and her motor functions are such she can't work on her bears-- Holcom still finds an outlet for her creativity.

These days she paints images of bears on rocks -- small, smooth granite stones to palm-size slabs of rough sandstone -- and won't let visitors leave without one.

"She's always been a giver," Ackerman said.