Lois Moten Having written 24 of these Remarkable Lampasan columns, I need to stop and assess my goals and progress. I started writing mainly for selfish reasons -- to help me to get through the problems that old age brings. Every person I have written about has inspired and encouraged me.

Now I sum up the commonalities I have found in all: 1) involvement with their fellow man and welcoming diversity in people, 2) participation in mentally stimulating activities, 3) an indomitable spirit, and 4) faith and hope in the future.

These people have given me a road map for successful living as a senior.

My thoughts turn to my Aunt Lois Moten of Oakalla, who died Jan. 2, 2006. She had all these characteristics; they helped her to live joyfully during the last years of her life, even when she was in great pain. Without these qualities, she would not have made it to 94.

On the morning she died, she called me at 7 a.m. from Spring Oaks Rehabilitation Center to tell me she had been to breakfast with Thelma Smith -- her Oakalla neighbor for 60 years who now lived across the hall -- and was looking forward to watching the Rose Bowl Parade with other residents.

The night before I had played Skipbo (one of her favorite card games) with her, and she beat me.

This column is about her cardplaying friends, who are my Remarkable Lampasans this month. Because of them and their visits, she continued to thrive in her own home until she fell and broke her leg in December 2005 and had to move, first to Rollins Brook Community Hospital and then to Spring Oaks.

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Aunt Lois Lisped to Lampasas to play bridge on Tuesdays and Thursdays; even her doctor, who lived out her way, commented on her fast driving. She could hardly wait to get to the bridge table at the home of Ethel Mae Yazell, Dorothy Derwin or Judy Smith.

On other weekdays, she usually could scrounge up neighbors Ann Ciccone, Evelyn Cantwell, Marie Banks or Jo Smith to play Skipbo.

On Sundays, she recruited Jo because they went to the same church.

Then on Saturdays, her daughter in-law, Neva Moten, and I journeyed to Aunt Lois' home on the banks of Rocky Creek to play with her. She didn't waste much time in greeting us; it was "Let's shuffle the cards and get down to business."

Lois Moten, right, enjoyed bridge with several partners, Dorothy Derwin, left, and Judy Smith. She won most games and would look us in the eye and inquire if we had any questions. When we won, which was rarely, she would say, "It's just a game."

When her grandchildren and great-grandchildren came from Washington D.C. and West Point, N.Y., she would hardly let them get in the door before she had them seated at the card table. I think it gave her pleasure that she could beat these young whippersnappers of whom she was so proud.

Foremost among the bridge players is Ethel Mae Yazell, whom Lois had known from childhood at Briggs. They kept in touch during the busy years they were raising families but didn't see much of each other.

Ethel Mae and her husband, Delbert, owned Yazell's Little Ages, a children's clothing store on the west side of the square. But when both ladies were widows and had time on their hands, they resurrected their friendship over the card table.

These Skipbo-playing friends were always available for cards when Lois Moten wasn't engaged in a bridge game. Ethel Mae was versatile; she could give Lois a "run for her money" both at bridge and Skipbo.

The second bridge-playing contributor to my aunt's life was Dorothy Derwin, who grew up a Smith in Lometa, and with the encouragement of Frank Climer who delivered "cokes" to the grocery store where she worked, she borrowed the money in l941 to attend Mrs. Jackson's Business School in the big city of Lampasas. I hear Dorothy was ambitious and smart; she advanced quickly in jobs until she worked as secretary to County Judge Sylvester Lewis.

Dorothy and Lois' friendship bloomed in the 1990s when, as widows, they started meeting weekly to play bridge. Dorothy remembers a competitive Lois who expected the best performance from her fellow players at the card table.

The third of the group was Judy Smith, the "young one" they called her because she was several decades younger than the others. My aunt often said she didn't know why Judy wanted to play with them. Judy countered by saying it was the highlight of her week. Where could she find better bridge players and more interesting, caring people?

Judy moved here from Friendswood where her husband, John, had enjoyed exciting years being involved in the NASA program and had helped put the first man on the moon.

Judy had grown up hearing her mother, Jessie Standard O'Neal, talk about the glories of Lampasas where her father had been the first paid fireman and her mother had owned a photography studio.

Judy remembers that my Aunt Lois always kept them "straight" at the bridge table. As the only one with a husband, Judy alarmed him when one day they got so carried away playing cards at Oakalla they forgot to go home. At 7:30 p.m., John called to check on the group.

Then there were the Oakalla residents who were at Lois' beck and call whenever she wanted to play Skipbo -- which was every day she wasn't in Lampasas playing bridge.

The one most easily accessible was Anne Cicconi, a widow who had moved from Connecticut to be near her daughter. She said Lois was her introduction to Oakalla society because sooner or later almost everyone crossed over Lois' doorstep.

Aunt Lois always had sweet treats and time to hear about everyone's activities.

Anne remembers that they were evenly matched players, and great competitiveness existed between them during the games that often lasted for hours. There were never any hard feelings, however; the women always left eager to get together tomorrow.

Another Skipbo player was Evelyn Cantwell, who lived down the road.

Evelyn had been an auditor for Sears in Dallas, and moved with her husband, J.D., in 1993 to the place where he had grown up. She credits Lois for getting her involved in the community.

After J.D. died, Evelyn volunteered at the Oakalla library. She learned to write grants to fund book purchases, and I've heard she greatly added to the library in her 10-year tenure there. She said Lois got her involved in the Redbud Home Demonstration Club.

Evelyn remembers they would play Skipbo until all hours until one night when departing Lois' house to go to her car, she met a rattlesnake. After that, she always left earlier.

Another neighbor Lois could count on to play Skipbo was Marie Banks, who had come to the community in 1951 as the bride of Herschel Banks. She said Lois taught her about plants, cooking, sewing, taking pride in her appearance, and about religion and the Bible.

Marie didn't have a lot of time to be with Lois until she retired as a seamstress. First, she worked at Terri Lyn Fashions in Lampasas making blouses and jeans. When that business closed, she worked for 15 years as manager of Johnston Inc. at Burnet, making children's clothing that was sold at Neiman-Marcus and I Magnim's.

During that time in Burnet, she was the first woman to hold an office in the chamber of commerce and also served as Briggs PTA president.

Marie now works as a sewing instructor at Central Texas College.

During the last years of Lois' life, Marie played Skipbo several times a week and helped Lois with tasks that needed doing. Marie said it was "payback" time for all the things Lois taught her when she was a young bride.

I saved Jo Smith, the fourth Skipbo player, for last because she was the one Lois spent many Sundays with after church. After a family dinner with vegetables from Jo's garden, she and Lois would settle down to card playing until it was time to go back to church for the evening service.

Lois often joined the Smith family on holidays and birthdays to play Progressive Rummy. Jo estimates that for about 30 years, Lois was a happy addition to their family gatherings.

Jo came to the community in 1949 from Indiana to marry Buck Smith, her Texas cowboy. I remember Lois telling me then that she had just acquired a friend from "up North" who was a REPUBLICAN.

They held the elections at Oakalla together for years; Lois, for Democrat voters, and Jo for the Republicans. They never let politics get in the way of their friendship.

I have special love in my heart for the valuable lessons Aunt Lois taught me -- and for these seven women and their examples of the art of living long and happily. They are truly remarkable women.

I know my Aunt Lois, up in Heaven, is saying, "My! How you carry on!"

I'd better quit.

Bobbye Alexander Behlau was born in Lampasas and graduated from high school in 1946. After living in San Antonio for 50 years where she was an elementary school principal, she and her husband, Joe, have retired in Lampasas. Recently a new school in Northside ISD in San Antonio was named for her.

She is a descendent of the Alexanders and Davises who settled here in the 1800s. She can be reached at 512-556-4076 or at beh1323@sbcglobal.net.