Issaquah senior center to lose its longtime director

When Tommie Troutman is working, it becomes immediately clear that she is among friends. She cuts away from her conversations for numerous hellos, goodbyes and waves across the room, and then goes right back to what she was talking about.

Her days at the Issaquah Valley Senior Center are full of hugs, joke trading and detailed updates on her friends' lives. She teased one man yesterday about a woman who fancied him.

"Sneaking a secret past me is like sneaking a sunrise past the rooster," she said.

Troutman is retiring today after nearly 30 years of work on behalf of Issaquah's senior community. Since 1980, she has been the executive director of the center, which she founded. Her departure is not just a key moment for a local institution, but a personal change for many of the hundreds of seniors the center serves regularly each year.

Over lunch, mahjongg or pinochle, the members raved.

"Tommie is the center," said Tiny Campbell, an 18-year member and board president. "Without her, this would not have been."

"She goes out of her way to help people," Loretta Luniuck said.

In 1975, Troutman was a government social worker and Issaquah resident who saw a need for organization in the city's senior community. Three years later she incorporated the group, and in 1980 it moved into a small fieldhouse, where it stayed for more than 20 years.

The seniors were crammed into long tables in an aging building, and Troutman led the push three years ago for a $1.5 million voter bond measure that allowed the center to expand. In December 2002, the sparkling new center opened in the old city library, complete with hardwood floors, new furniture and an elaborate kitchen full of the latest equipment.

Attendance has increased, and yesterday, the main room was full of about 60 people eating a lunch of turkey divan and biscuits. Troutman stood off to the side before eating and downplayed her role in the center's development.

"The reason they work so well is a sense of ownership," she said. "It's really their center."

"I've been kind of the glue that held it together," she added, "and I've been on the front line."

Around her, people chatted over their meals. The wall to her left was lined with rows of paperback romances and mysteries. A calendar behind her listed driving classes, line-dancing, income tax help and trips to Muckleshoot Casino and Boehm's Candies.

The center was packed with people last week for a two-hour sendoff. Many brought a red rose to show their appreciation. Troutman joked that she felt like Huckleberry Finn, watching her own funeral, but she calls it the "most gratifying experience I've had in my life."

She won't be leaving entirely. After traveling for the next month with her husband, she'll return to the center as a volunteer. Nedra Foshee, the center's assistant director, will take over the reins.

Troutman can't just leave her friends behind.

"We have our laughter and we have our tears, but to me, it's just one big family," she said. "They're really good, caring people. We really feel like no one is alone."

Ashley Bach: 206-464-2567 or abach@seattletimes.com