I gravitate toward liveliness, just like ET’s glowing fingertip. People had belief in me, and that makes the air sweeter, the birds melodic. I hear the leaves rustling!
For 10 days in 1993, Corinne Hiser thought she was dying. That’s how long it took to get the pathology report on the mole Dr. Philip Hardin had removed from her collarbone. A year earlier, it had been just a freckle. Two surgeries later, the melanoma was gone and Corinne was changed forever.
“That was my 2 by 4,” she remembers, “It smacked me upside the head. I realized I could die and my slate was clean. I had done nothing to help anyone.”
She reframed her life. She thought about what she wanted her purpose to be and what she wanted her life to look like. “And it wasn’t going to be shallow,” she says. “I wanted to make every minute count. Now I am pedal to the metal. That’s why it’s so hard for me to rest.”
The many women in the Twin Lakes Area who know Corinne know how true that statement is. Corinne is famous for her tireless dedication to women’s health, her enthusiastic appearances at women’s events, and her great big signature smile.
She truly cares about people and their health, and it shows. Even when she is exhausted, she can turn it on when it counts. How does she do it?
“I am so incredibly blessed,” she says. “I have encouragement, love, and opportunity. Being a nurse gives me the opportunity to impact lives for the good.”
She was absolutely serious when she dedicated herself to making a difference in people’s lives, and she has remained steadfast in that commitment.
“I want to be utilized totally, doing whatever I can to be sure people get healthy and stay healthy,” she says. “I want people to feel about themselves the way I feel about them.”
It’s working.
“Anyone who has ever been around this amazing woman cannot help but be caught up in her enthusiasm for life, her faith and helping others,” says Cindy Costa of the Baxter Regional Hospital Foundation. She remembers when Corinne was recruited by Dr. Mary Wren, a longtime friend and colleague, to be a part of something they were both passionate about—a center for women’s health education. Corinne helped make the dream a reality, and the community house on the Baxter Regional Medical Center campus was endowed by Josee Schliemann and named the Schliemann Center for Women’s Health Education in 2008.
“Corinne served on the advisory board since before there was even a center, doing all she could to help women be better educated on their health and well-being,” Cindy says.
Corinne is one of the original advisory board members—Mary, Corinne, Amanda Thornton, and Lori Kauffman—and still serves on the board.
“She is a very hands-on type of person,” Cindy says. “She puts in a lot of time helping with the SCWHE, from teaching programs to helping out with teens, helping with the big fundraiser and so much more. I cherish every moment spent with her because I know I’m a better person for it.”
It Comes From Deep Down inside
“I was brought up in the church, but I grew away,” Corinne says. “When my diagnosis was malignant melanoma, I rededicated myself to the Lord. I try to make a difference, to be Christ-like.”
At East Side Baptist Church in Mountain Home, Corinne teaches Sunday School with Stephanie Hughes, and sings in the choir.
“I love, love, love singing in the choir,” she says. “I love music. I took banjo lessons for six months, but I couldn’t sit still!”
Dorothy King, who raised her two girls—Teresa and Corinne—by herself on a 300-acre farm in Alco, Arkansas, pushed her daughters gently, to “do it well,” whatever “it” was, to go talk to them, whoever “they” were, to sing!
Dorothy had been taken from her family when she was 9 and brought up in a convent.
“The nuns were mean and she didn’t get much to eat,” Corinne remembers her mother saying. “Mom was determined that her own children would have food.”
The three of them—Dorothy, Teresa, and Corinne—had a large garden, and Dorothy canned everything, even chicken. She made zuccini marmalade with jello. They had a smoke house and a fruit house, and raised chickens given to them by the Cooperative Extension Service in Mountain View.
“I had a Hampshire pig through 4H named Pretty Girl,” Corinne says. “We held 4H meetings at our home. Mom drove around to pick up children for the meetings.”
“Being Corinne’s big sister has been an adventure!” Corinne’s sister, Teresa, says. “From infancy, she was always the happiest person in the room. Her first grade teacher once called her a ‘wiggleworm on hot ashes.’ No phone and very limited TV reception gave us the opportunity to experience the best that country life had to offer. Corinne loved the assortment of animals we always had around—cattle, a horse, pigs, chickens, a turkey, and a goat—to name a few. My son and his family love to visit ‘their favorite aunt’ because she still loves to play!”
They worked hard, and while Corinne has fond memories of her childhood, she tears up when she thinks about those years.
“Nobody helped us,” she remembers, “except my Aunt Willdie.”
Aunt Willdie Pillay lived in Fox, where Corinne was once stranded in an ice storm after a high school basketball game. The bus couldn’t make it back to Timbo. Corinne made it to her aunt’s house, but had only a thin dress to wear. Aunt Willdie found some of her husband’s clothes and altered them to fit Corinne. This small kindness still flourishes inside Corinne, and tells us something about the depth of the gratitude that shapes her.
Corinne’s early years include two brushes with celebrity. When she was 16, she was invited by the nephew of a movie director to visit the set of The Bootleggers to meet the actors. Slim Pickins was signing autographs, but Corinne had nothing for him to sign. With his black marker, he signed Slim on one of her bare thighs, and Pickins on the other. Corinne couldn’t get the signature off before she went to work the next day wearing shorts. Her mother was furious. The shenanigan still makes Corinne twinkle.
In 1984, Corinne’s Aunt Avis taught Jane Fonda how to make bisquits and gravy, among other Southern dishes, for her role in the movie The Dollmaker. Jane was visiting Jimmy Driftwood, famous folk musician, at this home in Timbo. He was married to Corinne’s cousin, Cleda.
Simple self-sufficiencies, like canning and making bisquits, was a way of life, Teresa remembers. “It paved the way for what was to follow for Corinne. Her desire for a career in the medical field was a testament to her tenacity and determination. We were so proud when she persevered and achieved her goal as a nurse practitioner. This was a perfect place for her to help people. Her heart and compassion for others has been a guiding principle. She truly cares about others, and it shows.”
Finding Her Heart Far From Home
Corinne was far from home, attending the University of Hawaii-Manoa in Honolulu, when she met Jon Hiser, a handsome young military man in the Coast Guard.
“He met me when I was not interested in having a boyfriend,” she says. At the time, Corinne was interested only in school and dancing on the beach, but she said yes to a date. They took her Spitfire to the Kamehameha Drive-In Theater to see For Your Eyes Only on their first date in 1981.
“I was shy!” she says. “But he listened to me with these big, gorgeous blue eyes. I never had that before.”
They stayed “just friends” until the Coast Guard was ready to send Jon back to the mainland. He tried to convince Corinne to go with him. “We’re the real deal,” he told her.
She didn’t go, but he waited patiently for her to change her mind. It took her six months.
“He used to say, ‘If you cage a bird, it will die,’” Corinne remembers. Her mom was still in Arkansas, recovering from breast cancer, so Corinne went home. Jon followed her. They have been married for 24 years.
“He has been my rock,” Corinne says. “He grounds me, gives me stability. It’s a great feeling to have.”
They love being outdoors, camping, hiking, traveling. Corinne tries to practice the things she grew up with—gardening, canning, raising animals—but she doesn’t have adequate time right now.
“I try,” she says. “I have a little garden with lettuce and a handful of tomatoes. I don’t can or make jelly, but I do have a pressure cooker.”
She and Jon lost their beloved yellow lab, Annie, in April. She was 13. Now they lavish love on their three-year-old yellow and white kitty named Butters.
And they are very close to their neighbors, especially since the famous ice storm of 2009, when Corinne and Jon brought 80-year-old Marge Hemlock home with them to keep her warm by their fireplace. The power was out for 11 days. Neighbor Esther Switzer had a camp stove and brought food.
“When the power came back on,” Corinne says, “a forever friendship had been forged. We got together every Tuesday afternoon after that and called it our Tuesday 3 Party.”
“We started calling it a tea party,” Ester says, “but we were a blending of three generations, and there were three of us, so it turned into the 3 Party.”
They lost Marge a few years ago, but Corinne and Esther continue their Tuesday date as often as they can.
“Our neighbors are our friends, and my friendship with Esther has been deepened through happiness and loss.”
“We got closer and closer after the ice storm,” Esther says. “We walk the neighborhood and lean on each other when we need to. Corinne is the most caring and honest Christian woman I have ever met. I love her like a daughter.”
“My friends mean the world to me,” Corinne says. “My nurse friends, Vicky Wiley, Barb Francis, Barbra Wike, and Sue McLarry, have helped to keep me grounded.”
“She is such a wonderful friend,” says Barb Francis. “Who doesn’t love Corinne? Her laughter, her enthusiasm…she never meets a stranger.”
It’s the smallest of kindnesses—her mother’s adoration, Aunt Willdie’s sewing, her sister’s friendship, Jon’s listening, Esther’s walks—that fill Corinne’s heart to overflowing. She tells a story about Win Rockefeller that illustrates her gratefulness for these meaningful gestures. He stopped by the nursery in Little Rock one day where she was taking care of his son, John Alexander Camp Rockefeller, who had Downs Syndrome. “It came up that we had both lived in Hawaii,” Corinne remembers. “A few hours later, he called me out of the nursery.”
He had brought in sushi and sashimi to share with Corinne. To this day, it amazes her that he would do that for her. “He taught me grace,” she says. And she has never stopped passing it along.
“I gravitate toward liveliness,” she says, laughing, “just like ET’s glowing fingertip. “People had belief in me, and that makes the air sweeter, the birds melodic. I hear the leaves rustling!”
Corinne Hiser’s happy heart makes her sappy in the most adorable way. Lucky for us. M! October/November 2016
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