If you have one eye, then focus on it, for that’s where the light is.

For Hometown Hero Ann McGinty, life is a mixture of both dark and light. She says looking at the best parts of her own life is what causes her to feel blessed. Feeling good herself motivates her to help out others.

For 33 years, McGinty, 97, has been a volunteer at the Bayview Senior Center, helping serve lunches every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. Jackie Little, another volunteer at the center, said she is inspired by the example she sets.

“She visits with people as they come into the center. Then she’s up and going again, delivering milk, and serving each diner a meal,” Little said. “Only the young 20-year-olds can keep up with Ann; the rest of us marvel at her energy.”

Ninety-three years ago, McGinty lost the use of one of her eyes due to carelessness on her father’s part. Little said McGinty uses her one good eye to look at what’s good about life.

In the sunny, immaculate living room of her Clinton home, McGinty says to a visitor “I’ll show you something. “ She comes back with a small cardboard jewelry box. A tiny woman dressed in a neat pink pant outfit, McGinty sets down the box, and says “Oh now look the sun is going to be in your eyes.” She grabs the back of a huge overstuffed chair and pulls it a few feet for her guest.

Opening the box, she shows her collection of the glass eyes she has worn throughout the years.

“Wanna pick one up?” she asks, breaking into a smile that could warm ice.

McGinty uses the metaphor of vision when talking about dealing with life.

“No reason to keep your eye on the dark, or in a box that won’t get you anywhere,” she said. “I figure why make myself miserable if I can’t change something. Might as well adjust to it. I tell myself, that’s just the way it is, and that’s all there is to it. No sense fussing about it.”

Her childhood was a story of survival. One night, her father left the family, taking her twin brother and her younger brother with him. She and her mother moved from flop house to flop house. They moved so often, McGinty never knew what it was to make or have a friend. Many times McGinty had to baby sit several children to pay for her room and board.

She didn’t see her brothers until she was 15, when they returned to their mother. McGinty remembers being excited. Sadly, the younger brother was so ill, he died in her bed just shortly after the family reunited. Several years later, McGinty’s twin died in a plane crash.

McGinty’s light side of her life began when she married her husband, Ed.

“He was the nicest guy in all of this world,” she said. “He really loved me. Boy was I lucky. My adult life is what I usually think about, my life with Ed, my faith in God, and my great son Bob and his family.”

McGinty said Ed was in ill health for much of their married life. Once, when he was in a hospital bed in their home, he wanted her to sleep and snuggle with him.

“Do you know what it’s like to sleep two people in one of those little single hospital beds?” McGinty said. “I told him I would have to sleep in my own bed. So Ed tied a string on his toe, and told me to tie the other end on my toe, so we would be connected at night.”

Ed died on March 2, 1984, at 76 years of age.

“I miss him badly,” McGinty said.

Bill Langdon, a community volunteer, said McGinty is determined.

“When I volunteered to help her with her taxes at the Senior Center, she wanted to pay me,” he said. “When I firmly refused, she donated money to the Senior Center.”

Every week, McGinty plays bingo at the Center, and helps the players around her, even though she has poor eyesight.

Because of that eyesight, McGinty’s doctor told her she could no longer volunteer to drive other people to their doctor appointments, church, the senior center or the market. This news was hard for McGinty to hear.

Many of her passengers were sad about this news, too. Freeland resident Aldon Johnson told McGinty he would gladly write a signed note that if she killed him in the car, he wouldn’t put any blame on her.

A friend and fellow volunteer at the Senior Center, Naomi Buzard, said McGinty loves nothing better than to be of service.

“Annie is one of a kind. She’s true to her God and to her fellow human beings. She is happy to be of service,” she said. “Annie is lovable, dependable, perky, a keen wit, and, yes, feisty, too.”

There is evidence to this in how she lives. Her father, who McGinty describes as an abusive and neglectful man, died a pauper. When she received a phone call asking her to pay for a casket, she told the mortuary to use the cheapest casket available.

“When he told me how much, I said ‘Oh. Hmm. Maybe that’s too cheap’ Well then, give me the next cheapest.”

She tells this in a matter-of-fact manner.

“There isn’t a single thing I can do to change my childhood, so I usually try not to think about it,” she said. “Of course as a child I remember crying my eyes out most nights, wishing I could have a real home with real parents. But then everyone has troubles. Life is sure rough sometimes.”

As a child, her favorite books were about happy families living happy lives. McGinty wanted to raise her own family like the ones in the stories she read. And when she and Ed had their baby, this was her chance. Her only regret was that she could not have more children.

When asked what she would do today, if there wasn’t any limits, she answers: “I would have more children and raise a family all over again.”

Away from volunteering, McGinty has plenty to do. She walks several miles every day. She rises at about 4 a.m. and goes out to get her newspaper. After reading it, she walks up the road to the home of her son, Bob, and daughter-in-law Adele’s to drop the paper on their doorstep.

“That way they know I’m still alive,” she said.

Sitting down with her at her kitchen table recently, she talked about how she wonders what happens after we die.

“I do a lot of thinking and praying when I’m walking,” she said. “I figure God knows what he’s doing, but I still wonder just what the Dickens heaven will be like. Will I see Ed, my brothers, and mother? How will I feel about my father? Will I know him?”

Upon seeing a visitor out the door of her home, McGinty doesn’t just say goodbye at the door. She insists on carrying half a visitor’s load and walks out to the car to say goodbye. Then, she waves from inside her big picture window.

McGinty’s way of life is to focus on what is good in her life, and accept and adjust to what’s not. This has served her well for 97 years. And it’s also well served so many in this community.