Marybeth Cravens

Marybeth (Beth) Wafer Cravens

"Everybody feels like crap in the morning. Get up anyway." This is one of the many life lessons imparted by Beth Cravens that has proven to be true. Whether you were lazy, sick, or "singing the blues," she knew, as only a Physical Therapist of 40+ years could, that the best medicine for the body and soul was to get up and move. We learned lots of lessons from Beth over her 79 years of life, from "get up anyway," to "the more you spend the more you save," her battle cry during a great sale at Dillard's, to "don't worry about money, you can always make more; focus on what's important," and "breathe" a throwback to her Lamaze and Prepared Childbirth teaching days in the 70s and 80s. Her two sisters, three daughters, four nieces, nephew, two sons-in-law, and five grandchildren as well as the countless mothers and fathers she taught child birthing class to here in Central Arkansas, can all attest to Beth's firm belief that some serious panting and controlled breathing can get you through most anything.

Beth took her last breath on 01 March 2016, dying peacefully in her sleep, but her wisdom will live on through her family, friends, patients, and students. She had other lessons to impart: "Never ask someone else to do what you won't do yourself" and "If one person in the room is working, you better all be working," both of which exemplify the deep-rooted egalitarian principle by which she lived. Another truism of Beth's was, "you've never seen a hearse with a U-Haul," which I think she used to justify a two week trip to Hawaii, buying in on a race horse in Ruidoso, New Mexico, owning an ostrich ranch in Roland, Arkansas, and purchasing a mink coat (a dubious staple for any woman living below the Mason-Dixon line).

Beth married Sidney T. Cravens (now deceased), whom she met on a blind date at a Sig Ep and Tri Delt function at the University of Arkansas, in 1959. They had three fabulous daughters (one of whom is writing this obituary). She divorced Sid after 32 years of marriage for her own reasons, and then proceeded to live "in sin" with him, much to the amusement of most of her daughters, until the day he died.

Beth graduated from Little Rock Central High School in 1954. She started her higher education at Monticello College in Alton, Illinois--the location to which she attributed this often repeated gem: "Educate a man, you educate an individual. Educate a woman and you educate a family." She took this motto seriously as she put three daughters through college with nary a student loan in sight. Beth finished her undergraduate degree at the University of Arkansas and then went on to Baylor University for her certificate in Physical Therapy, where she was the only female in the program.

Beth was known for her deep love of family, friends, the Buffalo River, swimming, University of Arkansas basketball, reading, shopping (much to the delight of the local retail establishments and her daughters), as well as physical therapy.

She started her physical therapy career at Memorial Hospital in North Little Rock, Arkansas then moved to Riley's Oak Hill Manor in the 70s. Beth went on to establish her own private practice in North Little Rock, the only one at that time, in the early 80s. She often told a story about a patient at her clinic who, after two weeks of physical therapy, asked "Who's in charge of this place?" Beth responded with, "Me; what can I do for you?" The patient said, "Nothing, I was just curious, 'cause I couldn't tell." To know Beth Cravens is to understand that this was the ultimate compliment, as she believed in the three E's: Education, Empowerment, and Equality. And if a patient couldn't tell who the boss was, then she must have been doing all three right.

Some of you may remember Beth as your Lamaze teacher, or for her tireless efforts to get fathers allowed into the labor and delivery room, or maybe she was your physical therapist, or bridge partner (she played every other week for over 30 years with the same group of women), or summer league softball coach, swim instructor, or as a YWCA board member, or for the two tattoos she proudly displayed (these were actually her eyebrows, she won them at a silent auction), but those who knew her best will know her for two different things: her exuberant love of life, or as the French say, her joie de vivre, and her ability to tackle barriers.

Beth's joie de vivre meant life with her was rarely boring, though at times mildly terrifying like when she insisted on going scuba diving in Cozumel despite the belly full of stitches she had from a recent abdominal surgery or her insistence on coasting out of her driveway on McCain Blvd on the backside of a blind hill in order to pop the clutch on her little blue bug to get it to spring to life. But mostly, life with Beth was humorous. Like her insistence on going snow skiing despite her almost paralyzing fear of heights. She'd ride the ski lift up the mountain then side step down. At the conclusion of Beth's life it can be said that she has side stepped down the mountain at most all the best ski resorts. This fear of heights also caused her to beg her family to put her in the trunk when crossing the Helena Bridge on many a road trip to McCarty's Pottery in Mississippia�"a request we flatly refused.

But, mostly and lastly, Beth is known to those who knew her best for her fearlessness, or maybe it was obliviousness, in the face of barriers. Whether they were social or physical, she tackled them with aplomb. From the gender barriers of the 20th century that denied women agency over their own bodies and decisions in the labor and delivery room or the everyday kind like when she locked the keys to her old blue VW bug in the car and borrowed a sledge hammer from a nearby construction crew to bash out the window (she didn't want to be late to a meeting). Beth was a force to be reckoned with and one that was incredibly loved.

Please join us for a celebration of Beth's joie de vivre Thursday night, 10 March 2016 at Trapnall Hall in Little Rock, Arkansas from 5:30 to 7:00 pm. Bring a hankie and your stories; we'll have lots to talk about.