Advertisement

Constant devotion

Share via

Deirdre Newman

The first thing Dick Matherly does when he visits Fairview Park every

few months to honor the love of his life’s memory is set the mood.

He puts a tape with swing music into a cassette recorder and

places it on the grass near the memorial tree at the top of the park.

Soon the big band sound of “Moonlight Serenade” fills the air, not

loud enough to drown out the cars whizzing along nearby Placentia

Avenue, but just loud enough to evoke his favorite memory -- swing

dancing with Lori Werstiuk.

His lips curl into a smile.

“When you get to be 75 years old, memories are the most important

thing there is,” Matherly said. “And without memories, you have

nothing.”

Matherly met Werstiuk at the El Nido Trailer Park -- where

Matherly still lives -- when they lived on opposite ends of a mobile

home park. They eventually began dating and were together for 17

years. They planned on getting married when their own kids were all

grown up and they could retire. They also dreamed about traveling the

country to visit lighthouses, Matherly’s favorite objects, which fill

his entire trailer.

But before they could realize their dreams, Werstiuk succumbed to

colon cancer in September 1994.

“The day that she passed, I had to go home and get some sleep and

she held on to me and wouldn’t let go and they had to pry her away,”

Matherly said. “I went home, took a shower, but couldn’t sleep. So I

went back to the hospital. The nurse said, ‘She was waiting for you.’

She saw me and [passed away].”

Matherly buried her ashes by a lake near Seattle where she owned

property. He and Werstiuk’s two daughters also planted two trees over

the ashes.

That inspired Matherly to think about where he could plant a tree

for Werstiuk when he returned to Costa Mesa.

He didn’t have to think too hard because one of their favorite

places was Fairview Park.

“Lori and I used to hang out when there was nothing but underbrush

and you had to claw your way through,” Matherly said.

Werstiuk’s daughters -- Karen and Cheryl -- asked the city

maintenance department if they could plant a tree and department

officials offered to plant it for them, Matherly said.

By the time Matherly returned from Washington in October 1994, the

tree had been planted. He brought some flowers to place around it and

a picture of Werstiuk in a frame that he placed on the trunk.

Unfortunately, that tree didn’t last very long and Matherly

assumed the flowers caused the problem. So he starting using fake

flowers instead. Every few months, when the season changes, Matherly

changes the flowers and the picture.

Last week, he changed the flower ensemble from spring to summer.

He chose daisies to put in the middle. He also put in a different

picture of Werstiuk -- one in which she is seen leaning on a boat in

Hawaii. After arranging the flowers, he stepped back to survey the

scene.

“That looks pretty good,” he said, proudly.

He also comes to visit the memorial tree whenever he gets lonely

or upset.

“I come here when I get uptight and walk up here,” Matherly said.

“Sometimes, I come up here and talk to her and walk down to Pacific

Coast Highway. I walk about 15 to 20 miles or so.”

He said he’s grateful that the students at Estancia High School,

which is right next to the park, have never desecrated the memorial.

Since there is no plaque on the tree, there is no indication of

who the memorial is for. Sometimes, passersby ask Matherly about the

tree while he changes the flowers.

“Some lady came by jogging one day,” Matherly said. “She said,

‘I’ve been wondering about that [tree] for years. It’s beautiful.”

Karen Werstiuk said Matherly’s unwavering dedication to her mother

impresses her.

“He’s been so devoted to her,” Werstiuk said. “She got very ill

and he was by her side constantly. As devoted as he was then, he

still is with the tree and he’s always keeping it up and it just

keeps her memory alive.”

* DEIRDRE NEWMAN covers Costa Mesa and may be reached at (949)

574-4221 or by e-mail at deirdre.newman@latimes.com.

Advertisement