Woman wills shares to charity

Lillian Roberts doesn't have much. But what she has, she's sharing.

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Two years ago, the nonprofit Catholic charity St. Vincent de Paul helped the 48-year-old, terminally ill, formerly homeless, three-quarter Tlingit move into a low-income apartment in the Mendenhall Valley with her cat.

Roberts has not been able to pay the charity back, so she decided to write a will and bequeath it her 157 shares of Sealaska Corp. stock. Sealaska is Southeast's regional Native corporation.

She will split her shares from Goldbelt, Juneau's urban Native corporation, between Modest Needs, a five-year-old charitable organization for those in temporary financial distress, and the Juneau chapter of the Healing Hands Foundation.

"These people have helped me a lot, more than they probably understand," Roberts said. "There are a lot of people who are millionaires who don't donate to causes like this, and I find that heartbreaking."

Fewer than 10 Sealaska shareholders have bequeathed shares to nonprofit organizations, said Todd Antioquia, director of corporate communications at Sealaska. Many other village and urban corporations have shareholders who have gifted shares to nonprofits, he said.

Under the terms of the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act of 1971, shares become "non-voting" when obtained by an organization or a non-Native person with "zero Alaska Native blood quantum," Antioquia said.

Therefore, St. Vincent will not participate in the corporation's elections. But when Sealaska declares a distribution, the organization will still receive a per-share payout.

Roberts' decision has encountered some opposition from the Native community.

"Some people view it as giving the white man more of what we have," Roberts said. "It's heartbreaking to feel that because I'm doing this, I'm contributing to a racial (issue). I chose to do this, and it's a good feeling. I'm happy with the decision I made."

The Society of St. Vincent de Paul has helped more than 12 million needy individuals annually across the United States. The Juneau branch offers more than $100,000 a year in direct assistance, mostly through housing aid, said Dan Austin, Juneau general manager. The charity assists more than 300 families in a given year and manages three low-income housing projects.

This is the first time anyone has bequeathed Native corporation shares to St. Vincent, Austin said. Roberts has also donated drapes, a box spring and a mattress to the charity.

Roberts' terms will leave the funds untouched for two years. Once the money accrues, it only can be used for housing needs.

"We don't solicit this sort of thing," Austin said. "It's not about people donating or willing their shares to St. Vincent De Paul. It's about people thinking about others even when they themselves don't have very much.

"We're talking about a woman who's dying with terminal disease, who is in poverty herself, who has had many misfortunes in her life," he said. "But when she thinks about others after she passes on, that's what important. To know that she gave."

Roberts can't work, because her lungs often forbid her from walking 10 feet.

The Juneau woman suffers from terminal idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, an incurable, progressive scarring that prevents her lungs from properly contracting and expanding. The disease kills most victims within four to six years of their diagnosis.

Doctors don't know the cause of the disease. Roberts has to map out her day: whether she's well enough to take out her trash and do her laundry, or whether she has to retreat to her inhaler. Every two hours, she has to self-medicate.

Roberts' respiratory system is so compromised that if she gets ill, she has no idea how her lungs will react. At least four times, she's collapsed in public while shopping and has had to be picked up by an ambulance. The drivers now know her.

But Roberts considers herself fortunate, in a way. She's covered by Medicaid and Medicare. And she has a home - an oasis for her and Precious, her 14-year-old, tortoise-shell calico.

"Nothing compares to this, nothing," Roberts said.

"People tend to take things for granted: being able to go home and eat dinner every day, or wake up every morning and eat breakfast and drink your coffee," she said. "Some people aren't able to do that, and that's why I decided to do what I did. To make sure people can move into an apartment or a house, and keep it."

Roberts was born in July 1959 and raised in Juneau. Her grandfather was Henry Roberts Sr., a respected elder in Klawock, and her mother, sisters and brothers hail from that area. She is of the Yanyeidi clan and is three-quarters Tlingit.

Roberts obtained her Sealaska shares from the corporation's initial enrollment in the early 1970s, and through inheritances from her mother and grandfather. She has no children. Two of her brothers drowned and another died in an accident. She has no idea where her sister is living.

Roberts grew up in an abusive family. She still has scars on her body from her mother, she said. At age 13, Roberts turned in a foster parent for molesting her, she said.

She soon became a ward of the state. She was sent to Denver to stay with a relative and spent years bouncing around the Lower 48.

In May 2005, she moved back to Southeast Alaska to escape an abusive relationship in the Lower 48. She was homeless for the first two months.

At first, she crashed at a friend's house in Angoon. Eventually, Alaska housing authorities told her an apartment was becoming available in Juneau. But she had to move to Juneau to fulfill a minimum 30-days-in-town requirement. She stayed at the Salvation Army.

While she was in transition, her cat, Precious, was also in limbo. One family she boarded with was allergic and suspected the cat had Feline Immunodeficiency Virus, an infectious cat disease similar to HIV.

"That was a nightmare within itself," Roberts said.

Ultimately, Roberts and Precious moved into a new Mendenhall Valley apartment on July 17.

"I really like the apartment that I'm in," Roberts said. "It's very quiet, I don't have any neighbors, and the cat likes it. That's the important thing: She's happy with where she's at."

The cat deserves it.

When she was just a kitten, Precious jumped on a dresser and pounced on Roberts' back until she awoke. Roberts had gone into anaphylactic shock from an antibiotic her body couldn't process and was able to call 911 before losing consciousness again in the ambulance. The cat likely saved her life.

To this day, Precious will sniff Roberts' nose and bat her in the face to wake her up if she's not breathing correctly.

• Contact Korry Keeker at 523-2268 or korry.keeker@juneauempire.com.