You may know her as ‘Choolah lady,’ ‘the extremely nice dining services employee,’ ‘auntie,’ or ‘grandma,’ but I got the chance to know her as Miss Val: a woman that has broken barriers, defied the odds, taken the word “generosity” to a new level, and has loved 110% since she was born. Miss Val is a gift from up above, as us Greyhounds already know, and getting to speak with her for two hours was one of the greatest privileges of my life. 

It is my honor to announce The Greyhound’s first ever “Hound of the Year” has been awarded to Miss Val. 

We sat down for this interview right outside Choolaah and Green Peel, Miss Val’s home turf. Throughout our interview, Miss Val was approached by over a dozen students and employees, all walking up for a hug. She knew every single person by name, and told each person that she loved them. She followed up on tests and projects students had mentioned to her, asked about how they were feeling, and told them how proud she is of them. Her love for Loyola students is simply unwavering. 

“You got to know how to love people. And if you love them, you better tell them. I fell in love so hard, and I love you guys,” she said.

Sometimes, she said, people ask her how she tells so many people she loves them even when she does not know them. To that, she asked, “How come you don’t?”

To say I had a million questions I wanted to ask her was an understatement. Does she know that many of us know her as ‘Choolaah lady?’ How does that make her feel? What has her life been like? How did she come to be this angelic? What does Loyola mean to her? How did we get lucky enough to be graced with her presence in our lives? 

After hearing her life story, it all makes sense. 

She described the first meal she ever ate to me. It was runny hospital eggs and burnt bacon—a hospital specialty many people opt out of eating. But for 9-year-old Valerie Crawford, it was the first food she ever tasted outside of a feeding tube. 

Miss Val was born with a rare disease and was told she would never be able to survive. The first eight years of her life were spent inside Johns Hopkins Hospital as a ‘bubble baby.’ She did not disclose the name of the disorder, but did tell me that there are four surviving people with the condition she had. Moments most of us will never remember, such as our first time smelling fresh air, eating food, or seeing the sun, are all moments that she remembers first hand because she spent her formative years in isolation. 

She is described as a medical miracle, warranting 12 volumes of books at Johns Hopkins that cover her case. At one point in her fight, her parents were told she had two hours left to live. Thanks to the tireless and brilliant minds of her medical team, as well as an Alabamian woman who flew to Baltimore to donate blood for a transfusion, Miss Val survived. 

“My childhood was amazing,” she said. 

This may not be something one expects to hear after being told about their hospitalized childhood, but for Miss Val, being this positive is effortless. 

“There was always someone there for me. I had the best parents ever. They were fun, and they were funny. We laughed all the way through my childhood,” she said.

It makes complete sense hearing the environment her family curated as she has created that same environment for all of us as we made our walk from Boulder to Starbucks. She described Sunday meals, where her family welcomed anyone and everyone; it is no coincidence that she creates love and community over meals here on campus.

After graduating from the University of Maryland—while working full-time—she spent her career working as the Director of Admissions for her alma mater’s School of Nursing. She finished her career working with the School of Dentistry. By the time Miss Val retired, she had given 44 years to the University of Maryland. 

“I am a University of Maryland girl!,” she proudly told me.

So how did she come to be an honorary Greyhound in her retirement? 

Years ago, Miss Val began volunteering at Towson University. It is no surprise that the Towson Tigers fell in love with her, and they begged her to accept a paid position for her work. After reluctantly accepting a paycheck, Miss Val became a dining supervisor at their on-campus Panda Express. Eventually, she taught a class called “Miss Val’s Life Lessons” that convened weekly to talk about the world.  She described it as a place where anyone is welcome, everyone gets a hug, and everyone is loved. While we may not have an official class at Loyola, we definitely learn her life lessons while waiting in line for lunch. 

Perhaps my favorite life lesson she bestowed onto me is also the one that sounds the silliest: ‘wizzywig’. Well, it is really spelled ‘WYSIWYG,’ but the pronunciation of ‘wizzywig’ rolls off the tongue so well. 

“What you see is what you get. This is me all the time – my husband can tell you!,” she exclaimed. 

It’s fitting that it sounds silly, because it is a part of her mantra to take life a little less seriously. 

“I’m trying this new thing called ‘doing whatever the heck I want!’ Don’t take it serious, and don’t make it serious,” she said.

That warrants the pessimistic thought I could not help but wonder: is it ever hard for her to show up like this every day? 

Her answer was succinct. 

“No.” 

She went on. “I had four bad days my entire life. My big sister died…my dad died…my son died…my mom died…I had four bad days in my entire life. Who gets to say that? Only four bad days! If you can get through death, you can get through everything,” she said. 

It’s hard to imagine a life with the challenges and grief Miss Val has experienced that is described as beautifully as she does. Something she reminded me of in our discussion was that it is not the experiences that define you, but what you do with those experiences. 

This is obviously easier said than done. The key, she said, is to surround yourself with your truest loved ones. If everyone let their guards down a little bit– and incorporated hugging into your daily routine—the world may be a happier place. 

“You will grow an abundance of beautiful people around you…they’re going to understand what you mean and what you need. You got people to help you,” she said.

If you feel like you do not have someone there for you, you would be mistaken. Nobody is alone in a world with Miss Val in it.

Sometimes, having a positive attitude is just natural. Other days, it is an uphill battle. If you take away one lesson from Miss Val’s infinite wisdom, it should be to just make life fun. She makes family everywhere she goes, she maintains a healthy perspective on life, and she just has fun.

She described work with the same energy a child may have when they describe being at Disney.

“I don’t work all year. I play all year! I play here all day. I come here to have fun!”

I challenge the world to take a note out of Miss Val’s book. Exuding joy and kindness is free. Fostering community is worthwhile. Choosing happiness is the best decision you can make. Everyone makes a choice every morning to either live like Miss Val, or to not; I think we all know what the right choice means. 

On behalf of all Greyhounds, thank you, Miss Val, for loving us.