On-call Mom

Some achieve motherhood by maternity; some achieve mother-figure-hood by popular acclamation. Mary Ann McDonald, 65, has achieved both. She is a mother of one grown daughter and also has become a mother figure to thousands of Gonzaga University students in her nearly 25 years as Gonzaga’s switchboard legend.

Switchboard legend? Do those two words even go together?

With Mary Ann McDonald, they sure do. Let’s put it this way: The woman has her own fan club in L.A. (more on that later).

And only a legend could have accumulated such a long list of nicknames. The woman has more nicknames than Sinatra:

“ The Know-It-All Operator.

“ The Queen Bee of Gonzaga.

“ The Mother Superior.

“ The Sure-Honey Operator (because of her penchant for saying “Sure, honey”).

“ Big Mama.

Technically, Mary Ann’s job title is “switchboard and security dispatcher.” Yet that doesn’t begin to describe the way she has transformed this job into a combination counselor, confessor and purveyor of all knowledge.

And possibly, voice of God?

Here are some excerpts from a MySpace posting written by an anonymous GU student:

“When I arrived at this university, I was scared, helpless and confused. … Then a miracle ensued, and God spoke to me, saying, ‘Yes, the ATM in the COG does accept deposits.’ … God lives in Spokane and works in the switchboard office at GU. I swear, the switchboard lady knows everything pertaining to anything you will ever need to know. Don’t believe me? She is only an O away.”

How, exactly, did Mary Ann achieve this exalted status?

“Because I was here, I was available, I liked ‘em and I took time,” said Mary Ann. “And I still do.”

Not only that, but she has a prodigious memory for both facts and faces.

“Once a youngster walks through that hall, I will remember three or four years later that I saw that kid,” she said. “But it is changing a little now, because I’m getting older.”

She certainly can’t memorize the names of all 6,000-plus Gonzaga students, but that doesn’t stop her from trying.

“I do make an effort,” she said.

The recognition factor goes both ways.

“Almost everyone at Gonzaga has spoken to Mary Ann whether they know her name or not,” said senior Steve Lowry, 22.

Many know her far better than that. In her years on the nighttime switchboard she has informally counseled students about their academic careers, parental problems and love lives.

“Several of my Jesuit friends told me, ‘You’ve heard more confessions than we have,’ ” she said.

Which brings us back to that informal fan club in L.A. It consists of a group of Gonzaga alums who get together every Fourth of July for a party. They often call Mary Ann and give her a quiz.

“They ask, ‘Where was I when I was a freshman? What was my major? Who was I dating? Do you remember the girl I brought in and told you I wanted to marry and you said, “No, I don’t think so?,’ ” said Mary Ann. “I remembered everything they asked me. It just blew them away.”

A typical Mary Ann counseling session begins with a panicked phone call from a student. Recently, a student called and said his mother was furious with him because he told her he didn’t think ordering his graduation announcements was “all that important.”

“I said, ‘Honey, you’re in trouble. I do hope your mother allows you to live until your next birthday. It’s 10 minutes until five, so you have 10 minutes. I’m going to put you through to a wonderful person who is going to help you through this. You’re going to get those announcements now and then you’re going to call your mother and grovel and apologize and be sincere. And if she won’t listen, I’ll talk to her.’ “

He later called back and reported that his mother was going to allow him “to turn 21.”

Mary Ann’s dealings with parents can be even more delicate, especially those parents who call the switchboard and complain that they can never get hold of their children. One mother complained that she felt she had “lost her son.”

Mary Ann told her that she hadn’t lost her son; he was just adjusting to his new life as a college student. She needed to give him some time.

“Then I said, ‘Look, I’m going to find your son and have a little talk with him. Is that OK?’ She said, ‘Oh, would you do that?’ “

She tracked down the son; he called home; and Mary Ann and the mother have “been friends ever since.”

Often, Mary Ann has to gently suggest to overanxious parents that “they have to think about cutting the cord.”

“And they would take it from me, because I’m a mom,” she said. “And dads are even worse. Oh my.”

Mary Ann’s deep well of empathy originated in her own childhood in Spokane.

“I was born with multiple birth defects and have had many surgeries – actually, 54,” she said. “I went through a lot of teasing when I was a kid. It left deep scars. So I am very empathetic with people who have had problems, whether physical, mental or emotional.”

She was raised mostly by a grandmother and attended Holy Names Academy. She had a cleft palate and “very bad speech impediment,” so she spent a lot of time reading and developing a love of history and of knowledge.

Today, she has no trace of a speech impediment. She has led a remarkably adventurous life, climbing mountains, snowshoeing in Alaska, leading wilderness survival trips and cliff-diving.

Cliff-diving?

She discovered a love for that brand of extreme sport in a typically Mary Ann sort of way. She was walking along a cliff above the Okanogan River when her dog knocked her off the trail, far into the river below. As she floated on her back in the water, she said to herself, “That was kind of fun.” So she climbed back up and did it again. She continued to cliff-dive until she was 40.

Wouldn’t somebody who had endured 54 surgeries tend to be more … cautious?

“I suppose. If they had a working brain,” she said.

She also has an enthusiasm for laughter and for comedy, which has translated into a mentoring position for Gonzaga University Theater Sports (GUTS), the college’s comedy-improv group.

“I was actually their emcee one year during their big show,” she said. “I played myself, and I never laughed so much in my life.”

She has worked at Jesuit missions in Alaska and has done a great amount of volunteer work for various causes in Spokane. Last month, she received the Spirit of the Daughters Award from the local chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution for her volunteer work and compassion.

She’s not above offering a little bit of Gonzaga basketball-related help to those in need, either. Once, a Gonzaga supporter was in Hawaii and couldn’t get the feed of an NCAA tournament game.

“The entire game, I kept him on the line and did the play-by-play,” said Mary Ann. “I’ve done that with as many as five alums at once. There are no calls coming in on game night anyway.”

Gonzaga may be a giant family for Mary Ann, but it does not substitute for her own family. She has a 38-year-old daughter who lives in Mica and three grandchildren, all of whom she loves dearly.

Frankly, her position as Mother Superior of the Switchboard has become a little less exalted over the past decade – or at least a little less busy.

When she started in 1983, virtually every call came through the switchboard. Those were the days when the only phones in the residence halls were in the hallways. Students had to go through the operator for practically everything.

Among the questions she has fielded:

“How do you make an Italian dinner from scratch?

“How do you do laundry?

“How do you stuff a turkey?

Now, students have cell phones and their own phones in their rooms. The number of calls to the switchboard has decreased dramatically.

“It’s kind of sad, but that’s just the way it is,” said Mary Ann.

Has she thought about retirement?

“I love it at the switchboard,” she said. “I’ve pretty much left my life in God’s hands. He’ll tell me what to do.”

But would Gonzaga be able to function without Mary Ann as Queen Bee?

“I always say that Father Spitzer runs the place from 8 to 5, Monday through Friday,” said Mary Ann. “I run it the rest of the time.”