Rosemary Neal, 93, LPN, one of first Black nurses at Hamot, brought joy to people

At St. Mark's Episcopal Church, 4701 Old French Road, no one sat in the third pew on the outside on Sunday mornings except Rosemary Neal.

She sat directly in front of her "boyfriend," Paul Nelson, owner and operator of Waldameer Park & Water World.

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"She was a wonderful person and we were closer than close," said Nelson.

Rosemary Neal, 93, of Erie, died Feb. 28, of COPD and congestive heart failure.

Neal was a matriarch at St. Mark's, according to her daughters, Deborah Jones, 68, and Patricia Neal, 59, where Rosemary's mother had once played the organ. She is mourned by hundreds who showed up at her funeral, her daughters said, including the staff at Tops, 712 W. 38th St., where she went regularly to see her friends whether she needed groceries or not. She was also a regular at the John F. Kennedy Center at 2021 E. 20th St., where she went to do arts and crafts in retirement.

But Rosemary Neal is mostly remembered as one of the first Black licensed practical nurses to work at what was originally called Hamot Hospital and is now known as UPMC Hamot. Hamot ran a nursing school that was free of charge for 86 years, closing it in 1976. Rosemary Neal was a graduate of that program, following her graduation from Strong Vincent High School.

"When she retired, she was an IV therapist," said Jones, herself a registered nurse with a master's degree in organizational leadership from Mercyhurst University. "The doctors loved her sense of humor. She liked to tell jokes. Everyone knew her.

"My friends even called her Mom."

Patricia Neal, who has worked in nursing homes, said patients who spent time in Hamot still remember Rosemary Neal and are thrilled to find out she is her daughter, she said.

"She was always the one who was the first to do whatever needed done," Nelson said.

In the 1960s, her start and those of other Black women as nurses at Hamot did not go smoothly, according to Jones and Nelson.

"I was on the board of directors at Hamot," said Nelson, now 89, adding it was brought to his attention Black nurses were not being treated correctly.

"I said, 'From now on, you are going to be my girlfriend and I'm going to be your boyfriend and we'll see how people take that,'" he said, hastening to add that their relationship was always platonic. He meant that he was standing in solidarity with her and her Black coworkers.

Nelson said he sat behind her at church and his wife never protested Rosemary and Paul's affection for each other.

"She says that (Rosemary and I) were girlfriend and boyfriend long before she came around," Nelson said with a laugh.

Hamot was just the beginning

Rosemary Neal, mother of five, grandmother to 22 and great-grandmother to 24, might have liked to tell jokes, had a special dance she did with Tops employees for fun and spent 16 years at the JFK center, but she wouldn't be pigeon-holed. She was many things to many people.

"She made sure every one of us was baptized and our children and her friends' children," Patricia Neal said. "She made sure all five of her children were educated enough to live independently."

To Rosemary Neal, education was paramount. The longest trip she ever took was to Savannah, Georgia, to watch her granddaughter, Mariah Neal, daughter of Michael Neal, the youngest of her children, graduate as valedictorian. She stayed in Georgia for three weeks celebrating with family.

She spread that passion throughout her corner of Erie's community.

"If she could do something or teach something to anyone, she did," Jones said.

She was always helping someone out of a jam, Patricia Neal said. "Every time I came over somebody else was living in the house, 'getting back on their feet,'" she said. "I said 'Mama, why you keep bringing people home?'"

Outspoken against discrimination

She might have had a soft heart, but Rosemary Neal was no shrinking violet in the face of racial prejudice.

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"When I was in college, a professor was prejudiced against me," Jones said. "He was always giving me bad marks. It didn't matter how hard I worked."

Rosemary Neal was having none of that.

"She talked to the head of (Penn State) Behrend," Jones said. "He said, 'You get Debbie out of that class.'

"Of course, we'd paid for it and just to drop it and take it again, but (the dean) helped get me out and take my papers to the next professor. (The next teacher) said 'There's nothing wrong with these papers,' and I was confident again."

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Steelers, holiday fun

In her retirement, Rosemary Neal played as hard as she worked. She was an avid fan of the Pittsburgh Steelers and did holidays up big, throwing large Halloween parties, setting off fireworks on July 4, competing with the neighbors to see who could put together the best finale.

As her diseases progressed this past winter, she finally had to quit going to church, and, nearing the end of her life, she asked her daughters to take her to church one more time.

"She said, 'I want to see my boyfriend,'" Jones said. "And she did, and they had a hug. She passed within a month," Jones said, tearing up before laughing a little.

"The bishop did her funeral," Jones said, referring to Bishop Sean Rowe, right reverend of the Episcopal Diocese of Northwestern Pennsylvania and Western New York. "I knew she'd be nudging me, saying, 'Do you believe the bishop is doing my funeral?' and laughing."

Contact Jennie Geisler at jgeisler@timesnews.com, or at 814-870-1885.

This article originally appeared on Erie Times-News: Rosemary Neal, LPN, spread joy at Hamot, church, Tops, JFK, and at home