Doris Marcine Wingerson, 100, died March 3, 2021, in Portland, OR. Born in Clay Center, KS, she was the daughter of Richard August and Johanna Dorothea (aka Dora) (Obenland) Brueggemann. Always identifying as an educator, Doris, at 17, initiated a long-term relationship with Tri-Sigma while starting college at Kansas State Teachers College of Emporia, Emporia, KS. She began teaching kindergarten and primary grades at age 19. After teaching a few years, she returned to get her BA, then again taught until she married George Charles Wingerson in 1949. The couple had three children, Georgann Dorthe, Jon Richard (Ricky), and Dane Kurt. Doris and George divorced in1984.
Doris was molded by the years she lived in KS, 1921 - 1962. Most of those years, she spent growing up in Clay Center or raising her family in Hill City. She always felt close to her identical twin, Dorothy, and nieces Doris Caryl and Sally, Jayhawkers all. Though she only returned to KS for visits, KS remained her soul.
Doris lived from 1966 – 2010 in Idaho Falls, ID. She developed long-term friendships with those she met in the League of Women Voters and the American Association of University Women. For years, she weekly volunteered with the Lutheran Braille Workers. She attended Hope Lutheran Church and was well and lovingly supported by the ministry and congregants. Her wonderful neighbors always looked out for her. Her physician, Eric Wingerson, DO, went above and beyond to assure her wellness and safety. Friends delighted in being among a long list of people whom she would call, delivering her unique birthday greetings. All would agree that Doris was a “character.”
Survivors include daughter Georgann, son Dane, grandson Andy, and granddaughter Mary.
Doris was preceded in death by her son Ricky, 1956; her former husband George, 2001; and her sister Dorothy, 2013.
A private graveside service will be held in Clay Center, KS in the autumn.
No memorials are requested. Doris would ask that all spend their funds to go to school and be educated.
A kiss on the forehead goes to everyone who cared for “the little ol’ lady on Tendoy,” as she cheerfully called herself.