Questions & Answers with community faces
Donna (Seipelt) Philips (79) grew up in Brown County, just outside of Cincinnati, along the Ohio-Kentucky border. Unlike many of their neighbors, her parents had survived The Great Depression and a world war. The Seipelts opened a grocery store and started a family—determinded to give Philips and her two older siblings better lives than they had.
During her young life, her father became home-bound for a time, and her mother had a terrible accident a few years later, so Philips saw her community—and particularly her church community—step up to help the Seipelts through these difficult times. This made a lasting impression that would shape the whole trajectory of Philips’ life.
From an early age, Philips had become very involved with her local church, particularly singing in the choir. She graduated from Mt. Orab Local High School in 1965, and it was ultimately singing that helped Philips to college, via a scholarship to Ohio State University, where she attended for three years, until she got married and moved to Ann Arbor; she then transferred to Eastern Michigan University, where she earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in education in 1969, followed by a Master’s in education in 1971.
Singing also led to meeting her future husband, Ron Philips (84)—both worked at the First Community Church’s summer camp in Arlington, Ohio, during her college years. Ron, who had marched in Selma with the Civil Rights Movement, later became a minister, while Donna was an elementary teacher, and the couple raised their two children in Ann Arbor: Sidney Levitt-Philips (51) and Sarah (Philips) Simmons (48). They also now have three grandchildren: Oliver (16), Emma (14) and Felix (15).
On that note, Philips is perhaps best known by the moniker given to her when she volunteers at the Frankfort Elementary School: “Grandma Donna” is what all of the kids call her, whereas most other volunteers are called “Mrs. So-and-So.” When she helped to organize a series of free children’s movies at The Garden Theater recently, the posters just said, “Sponsored by Grandma Donna.” When she walks into Paul Oliver Memorial Hospital, she is greeted at reception by, “Hello, Grandma Donna, what brings you in today?”
And anyone who has met Philips can see why she is so beloved, not only by our younger community members—she is, in her own words, “not shy.”
In fact, Philips will talk to anyone about pretty much anything.
She loves nothing more than to “make connections” within the community: “Oh, you need a babysitter? Well, have you met So-and-So’s daughter?” “Oh, you need donations for XYZ event? Well, have you asked What’s-her-name?” “Okay, friends, ABC nonprofit organization needs volunteers, so I need you to sign up to help.” These are common refrains from Philips.
Since the Philipses moved permanently to Frankfort in 2008—they have had a cottage on Crystal Lake since 1976—she can only claim to be “retired” in the last few years, because, though she retired from teaching in 2008, she then immediately went to work for the Frankfort-Elberta Area Chamber of Commerce as volunteer coordinator until 2023.
But “Grandma Donna” is unlikely to fully retire from her busy-ness of volunteering in our community—it is baked into the bones of who she is, from that little girl in the church choir back in Appalachia.
Continuing with our interview series on impactful Benzie County characters, The Betsie Current caught up with Philips as she was on her way to “mahjong with the girls.”
The Betsie Current: You are very active in our Benzie County community, and we know that you were very active in your Ann Arbor community before that, and even back in Ohio, when you were young. Why do you think you are so socially and community minded? What life experiences led you down this path of community service? How has faith played a role in your life?
Donna Philips: As a little Methodist kid, I always went to church. That didn’t mean my parents went. But I always went to church. I also went to church camp. And I sang in the little kid church choir. There were 65 of us that graduated together in 1965, and we still have reunions every year; this will be the 61st reunion. I grew up in a community of volunteers. Everybody helped out. That was just something we learned to do. We lived in a farming community in Appalachia, near Cincinnati. But now, when I go back for the reunions, so much of that land is filled with data centers and solar farms, instead of corn fields. I read [current Vice President] J.D. [Vance]’s book, Hillbilly Elegy, and I saw a lot of my own upbringing in that; I had friends with no indoor plumbing, who slept on the floor. My parents strived for better for us. I grew up delivering eggs. Dad had a grocery store, and they bartered a lot back in the 1940s and ‘50s. He told my mother, “Take these eggs into the city and sell these.” She didn’t have a driver’s license at the time, so Dad would drive her into the city, and then she’d walk the streets with her deliveries. Mom ended up with 1,500 houses on her egg-delivery route. She did it when she was pregnant with me, and then she took me along with her after I was born. I learned a lot about simple community organizing from her. Like, there would be someone on her route who told her that they needed a babysitter, and then Mom would tell them that someone down the street had a good babysitter, so I saw my mom connect them. Now, you can get online to find a babysitter. And although the internet and social media has helped to solve a great deal of chaos in people’s lives, there is a loss of the human connection part. When I was really young, we lived in a one-stoplight town. Then we moved to a tobacco farm in the country on a lake. My father had actually bartered for that land; again, bartering happened a lot in those days. But Dad had a massive stroke right after we moved, when I was eight years old, and we weren’t sure if he was going to live. It was tough times. My mother still had her egg route, and she saved every penny she had. And then Dad got better; he was still affected on his left side, but he actually got to the point where he could drive again—so Mom didn’t have to drive herself into the city for the egg route anymore. When my dad had the stroke, I had faith to know that everything was going to be okay, and eventually it was. I had a community who saw a need, and they offered things like, “Oh, we’ll take care of Donna after school.” We all helped one another. We weren’t told to help; we learned to see what needed to be done. Our community always made potluck, always took people food. And so then I became a person who did that, too; visiting the elderly, through my church, through [Reverend] Dinah [Haag, pastor and choir director of the First Congregational Church of Frankfort]. Things like that.
Current: Tell our readers about your pre-retirement life and how that relates to your volunteerism now, in post-retirement life. What are all the ways that you have volunteered throughout your life? Why was it important to you, and why does it continue to be important?
Philips: When I was young, I was very involved with 4H; it helped me go to college. I had a national scholarship at Ohio State [University]. That was a big deal. I did song-leading at lots of big events, and I was in the first all-Ohio youth choir; we traveled all over and toured Europe in 1965. When I was at a 4H meeting, a man named Reverend Gabe Campbell said that, when I grew up, he was going to hire me to work at Camp Akita, within his First Community Church [in Upper Arlington, Ohio]. That’s where I met my husband, Ron. He was a minister at the church there, and we were involved with the youth work together. And life just kind of went that direction. Back in Ohio, we had 500 high school kids in our first youth group, and Ron was able to find out what their interests were; some wanted to go into Columbus and work with the homeless, and then they ended up finding out that their parents owned some of the problematic housing in the city. Or when we tried talking to the youth group about the harm that drugs can cause, and we were told by the adults that “none of our kids do drugs.” We were trying to help bring awareness to issues back when it was taboo to talk about such things; we were kind of at the forefront of some of that. We ended up getting married my junior year of college, so when we moved to Ann Arbor, I transferred and finished at Eastern Michigan University. I was a school teacher in Wayne-Westland schools, down by Detroit, for 36 years. Mostly 2nd grade, at the elementary level. While I was living in Ann Arbor and a new mom myself, the soccer programs got really big in 1980, and I got very involved in the travel teams there. I was in charge of the coaches. And we knew nothing. It was all about volunteerism. As parents, we were volunteering for things that we knew nothing about. That is while I was teaching, a young mother, and crazy; but that’s one of the things back then—when you were a parent, you volunteered. Those are ways that parents can get involved and teach their kids how important it is to volunteer. Same with the youth groups. Church youth groups were really important back then to all of us. I was also involved in Boy Scouts; I was the Boy Scout leader. None of the other mothers would do it, ha. I worked on the City of Ann Arbor’s community committee to help youth. I was also a volunteer at the Crystal Lake Yacht Club during the summers, before we moved here full time; I helped to build the junior sailing program [Crystal Lake Sailing School], with a large group of kids from CSA [Congregational Summer Assembly] and locals, too. I had nothing to do during the summers off from teaching, and I didn’t know anybody up here, and I had little kids. That was a big deal for me. I met a lot of people, and I heard a lot of stories about people. I volunteered at the CSA, too. When we retired and moved up here, I volunteered with Paul Oliver Memorial Hospital Women’s Auxiliary, Point Betsie Lighthouse, Periwinkle Garden Club. I worked at Grow Benzie and BACN [Benzie Area Christian Neighbors], when we were still in a little tiny building. Lots of these wonderful programs that we have now were just getting established here in Benzie. So I’ve seen a lot of these groups “grow up.” There were a lot of opportunities to volunteer, and I was ready to do everything. That was also the year that I got hired to work at the [Frankfort-Elberta Area] Chamber of Commerce; so I didn’t really “retire,” though I wasn’t teaching anymore. And that was a whole other experience of connecting people, and that’s really what it’s all about. Like with the Frankfort Fall Festival, I gathered a bunch of mothers and their kids to cut corn stalks for the corn maze and the lampposts downtown. Concerts in the Park, the Frankfort Car Show. People started some things and couldn’t keep going with them, so I would take on these projects and try to keep them going. It’s hard to find someone to take over for you, so I tried to do that with Take a Kid Fishing, for instance. And we just had great success with that again this year; we gave out 150 fishing rods and 150 life jackets. There were about 40 kids at the nightcrawler event the night before, and the nightcrawlers were donated. I now have the Northwest Michigan Fishing Club involved; those guys helped me to put the rods together. The Rotary Club has given me money to pay for it, and they also gave me money for our monthly Go Fly A Kite events on the Frankfort beach during the summers; Ginny Istnick asked me to start that program and had the money to buy the kites. Very supportive. All of that work takes a group of people. It takes people with some money who believe in giving memories to kids. And those people are out there, all you have to do is find them and ask. There are opportunities all over, if you know where to look. And for people who don’t know how to get started with volunteering, a really good way is to attend the 100 Women Who Care [of Benzie] quarterly events. They do four meetings a year, and each woman donates $100 per quarter; there are more than 100 women now who are members, and so many organizations can put their names in a hat, and three are picked to give a quick presentation of what they would use the funds for, which is now close to $20,000 per quarter. But even for the groups that don’t win the money that night, it’s a great way to find out about all of the other organizations that need help, that need funding, that need volunteers. The ingenuity we have here is so impressive; how people find ways to make our community better. So I’m like, “Yeah, I’ll join that. Yeah, I’ll join that.” If you really want to help your community grow, you just kind of need to put yourself out there. I’m definitely not a shy person. Like, when I saw [The Betsie Current and Kilwins of Frankfort’s] Monthly Movie Club [at The Garden Theater], and I found out that I could rent the theater, I was excited to do that for kids’ movies. Those are the fun things in life. How can you make your life more joyful?
Current: You left one out—we know that you have been volunteering at the Frankfort Elementary School since you moved here, and we know that the kids there call you “Grandma Donna.” But we have heard a nasty rumor that your own grandchildren do not even call you Grandma Donna—they call you Nana—so how did the Frankfort kids come to call you that?
Philips: Even [the school kids’ real] grandmothers ask me that question, because they want to know why I get to be an honorary grandma. It’s nothing dramatic—my husband’s parents were Nana and Fafa, so that’s why I’m called that by my grandchildren. But I spent so many years as Mrs. Philips as a teacher, and volunteering my time here [in Frankfort] felt different; I didn’t want to be Mrs. Philips, I wanted to be Grandma Donna. I tutor kids, too, and I don’t charge anything, and those kids call me Grandma Donna, too. I love working with those kids.
Current: It sounds like a recurring theme of the joys in your life have been music and education.
Philips: Yes, that is very true. In addition to the choir, I was a tapdancer. Mom and Dad made sure we had all kinds of crazy things to do. My brother and sister actually tapdanced on the radio! Which is so funny to think about now. That’s actually how my brother got to go to college. I got to go because of 4H and singing; my brother’s tap dancing meant he got to go to college, because he could pay for it through money he had earned by teaching dance. We were very lucky, and I know it’s not as easy now to do that. But overall, there was always music, and there was also a lot of humor in my life. My dad had a great sense of humor. It’s important to look at the good things in life. Unfortunately, my sister, who was eight years older than me, didn’t get to go to college, because she graduated high school when Dad had the stroke, during the tough years. But she was a hard worker, and she got a job, and she excelled at it. Notably, both my brother and sister are very active in volunteering and doing stuff, too. They actually named a school after my brother. He was an elementary school principal. He always had these innovative ideas to get people in the doors, volunteering. Like, he had these fathers who wanted to help at the school; he called them the Do-Dads. They would build stuff at the school, whenever they needed something. When we were younger, because he was so good, my brother became a dance instructor; he actually started the dance program in every school in Brown County. Back then, I was the little sister, and I would go with him. For a quarter or whatever, he’d give lessons. And then recitals. He got pretty well known. He went to college for dance, became a teacher, then a principal. Then the Cincinnati Bengals, the NFL [National Football League] team, wanted to have a team of dancers—you know, like the Dallas Cowboys or something. So they asked my brother if he would come and interview the dancers, help to pick the best ones for the team. He agreed to do it, as long as on the first day of school, some football players and the dancers were there. So when kids got off the bus that first day of school that year, there they all were, standing on the sidewalk and cheering for the kids.
Current: Gardening is a pretty big deal for you, too, right?
Philips: Yes. I have a great story about that. I actually went back last year to see my parents’ old house on the lake. I knocked on the door, and the woman—she’s the third owner, with one previous, and then my parents—and she was so happy I was there. She asked me questions about the property; why we did this, or didn’t do that. Like, we couldn’t afford a walk-out basement, though my mother wanted one. We walked around the house, and we’ve become great friends since. We write each other now. And she let me dig up some of my mom’s peonies that I then planted here in my garden in Frankfort. She sends me pictures of all my mother’s peonies that are still there when they bloom. And I tell her who she should talk to, which neighbors are still there that I remember, who she should meet. Making those connections, from afar.
Current: It seems like you know just about everybody in town. Is that true?
Philips: One of the things that happens with me is the connection with people. At the Chamber, people would come in asking for information, and by the time they would leave the office, we’d be best friends. The connections over the years are what I really love doing. Frankfort Fall Festival is full of people who are connected. Even today at Mahjong, there was a new woman in town from Texas, and so I asked her, “Do you know So-and-So from Texas?” And then we get into the conversation, and it turns out that they have an Ohio connection, too; well, it turns out they went to our church in Columbus. Small world! All you have to do is have a conversation with people. We have a lot of new retirees up here now. And I’m working on them—they need to be volunteering! Some of these people [who currently volunteer] are getting old, and they need to be replaced, so the newbies need to step up. It all starts with conversations and connections.
Current: How have you seen Benzie County change since you first came up here in the 1960s? What are your hopes for the area in the future? What are the biggest challenges and rewards of living in Benzie County and in Northern Michigan, in general? What are the best or most rewarding parts?
Philips: We first came up here right after we got married. Remember Reverend Gabe Campbell, who got me to work at the summer camp? Well, he performed our marriage ceremony, too. He and his wife, Sandy, told us to use their cottage on Crystal Lake right after we were married. And then we bought our own cottage a little later. Since those times, housing has become a huge issue. I love what the [Housing Trust of Benzie is] doing, in terms of trying to get housing going here. It’s fun to see all of these now-adults who I used to work with in various youth groups who have grown up and are giving back to this community. Like Liz [Nahnsen] Negrau, who I knew from the CSA and from sailing, and everything that she did to launch the Housing Trust of Benzie and get it off the ground. Or Elizabeth Laidlaw, who I knew from sailing, who founded Lakeside Shakespeare Theater; I remember her, and I was so proud when she started that program. The local schools are dynamite and full of innovative ideas; I love that the school has taken on horticulture and added the robotics team. I wish that I had the talents for those things. I think to myself, “I’ll sign up to help!” I try to help when I can, like the costumes for Vickie Slater’s dance programs; I help with the costumes, like my mother always did when I was growing up in dance with my brother. If I were smart at housing or at grant-writing, I’d be offering myself for those services. When people want to know how they can help, I tell them: Try to look at your own talents, what are you good at? To help encourage 4H, all of those service projects, to get young people involved. Getting volunteers. This community needs year-round workers, too. We need to think about things like, how do we get a kid into something that they’re interested in, how do we offer more internships?
Current: What could Benzie County do to attract more and retain talented people in this area? What else does Benzie County need?
Philips: During and after WWII, in Ann Arbor, they had a lot of housing areas for people who worked at Willow Run [also known as Air Force Plant 31, a former manufacturing complex]. Lots of women went to work at Willow Run to build a bunch of things for the war. There is some fabulous housing that came from it; condos and homes, subdivisions of housing. People were happy to have those. So it can be done, under certain circumstances—like war, things change with a war. But I get really irritated with the “not in my backyard” NIMBY crew. We need to ask: how do we bring ourselves along but not forget where we came from? Some towns from my parents’ generation just folded up and went away, they didn’t change with the times, and I wish that I could ask my parents more about those places, about what happened. I get to look at 60 years of adulthood in retrospect, but what could we learn from even earlier? How can we use history to shape our present and our future?
Current: On that note, what wisdom would you like to impart on the generations that follow you?
Philips: I have so many friends who have different viewpoints than me on certain issues. I’ve made connections with people of varying beliefs, and we have great conversations. That just doesn’t happen very much today. That’s something I would change. For instance, I was in a book club recently, and a woman said something that felt odd. Rather than accusing her or coming in hot, I just said, “I don’t think I’m following you on this. Can you explain more?” I genuinely wanted to know. Sadly, it didn’t go any further, because people just don’t want to disagree and avoid it at all costs. I’ve watched people just plain stop talking to one another about certain issues, pretending like they don’t exist. When did people stop being able to talk to one another? A friend told me, “I think everyone should have a dinner with someone who is not in your sphere, and you’ll find all of the things you do have in common and all of those you don’t.” And I think that would be great. I’d love to do that. I mean, I guess these things have always existed, but it just feels worse now. Like, sure, I remember the first time I questioned my dad about politics when I was little. He said, “I’m not voting for Kennedy, because he’s catholic.” I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t see my dad as a prejudiced person. I thought to myself, You don’t like Kennedy, why? Because he goes to church? I was a kid, and kids don’t see things the way that adults do. When I got older, I thought to myself, Well, what was my dad’s experience? His experience was very narrow; his worldview was very small. Limited to Appalachia. So of course, it made sense for him to be scared of what he didn’t know or understand. And yet, what my mom and dad were trying to do for me and for my siblings was trying to expand our lives; to take us into the city, to make sure we had dance lessons. They were doing what they thought was right for us. My mother told me one time that she wished I hadn’t gone to college, because she felt that I had “outgrown” her. She actually had wanted to go to college when my brother did. And I always felt bad about that. She saw herself only as an egg lady. She didn’t see all of the wonderful things about herself, as I think many women of that era didn’t; she was such a bright lady.
Current: What are your favorite local events and activities? Any favorite dining, recreation, or beach spots? What does your perfect summer day look like in Benzie County? How would you spend it?
Philips: Oh gosh. I love to go to The Cabbage Shed. I love to volunteer at The Garden Theater, because I get to see people at the concession stand. I love my church; Dinah’s been great. I like my Mahjong group, my PEO group and all of the good philanthropy they do. As far as a really good day, I think back to when I used to volunteer to take kids canoeing down the river. Or going over to the lake and walking the dog. I guess I would enjoy the resources and the weather, because I love the four seasons. In Ohio, I didn’t have four seasons. I would be with my family, enjoying the resources we have around us.
Want to pick the brain of arguably the most well-connected woman in Benzie County about ways that you can get involved in the community? Contact “Grandma Donna” Philips at 734-417-1251, and she is sure to give you an earful of who needs volunteers and/or funding. (Or look for her driving around town in her red VW Bug, with eyelashes on the headlights.)
Featured Photo Caption: Donna (Seipelt) Philips (79) is best known around town as “Grandma Donna,” a moniker given to her when she volunteers at the Frankfort Elementary School. Photo by Aubrey Ann Parker.
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