Last summer, a woman had a birthday and — as a surprise — her family put her picture in the paper.

“Happy 75th birthday, Great-Grandma Nita Bale,” read the headline in the Celebrate Nebraska! section.

Underneath was an invitation to people who recognized the smiling lady: “We would like to shower her with cards.”

And cards poured down on Nita. More than one hundred!

She went through them one by one. Well wishes from people she once worked with, greetings from old neighbors, friends.

And one card from someone named Carolyn Tuttle.

Carolyn Tuttle?

Who was that?

Was Carolyn Tuttle someone she worked with years ago at Ameritas? Maybe she’d been divorced and remarried and had a new name?

The mystery bugged Nita. Let’s drive by her house and see if it jogs your memory, her sister suggested.

They cruised past a white house with a big front porch on R Street. Nita had never been there.

How did she know Carolyn Tuttle? She picked up the phone, maybe Joyce would know.

Joyce Larkins had worked at Ameritas with her for years. Did she know Carolyn Tuttle?

I don’t, Joyce said. But guess what?

Her 50th wedding anniversary had just been in Celebrate.

A card arrived a few days later, signed Carolyn Tuttle.

And just like Nita, Joyce was puzzled.

So Joyce called her sister. Was Carolyn Tuttle a woman from church? Someone from back home?

I don’t think so, her sister replied. But guess what?  I got a card from her, too.

And then, a few weeks ago, Nita was at the beauty shop.

Jack and I just had our 50th wedding anniversary, her hairdresser told her. The announcement was in Celebrate.

Nita perked up. She’d already told Vicki about the mysterious Carolyn Tuttle.

Did you get a card from someone you didn’t know?

 (You might guess what happened next, and you’d be right.)

Well, yes we did…

Which brings us to Carolyn Tuttle and to the thousands of Celebrate honorees who have opened their mailboxes to find an envelope festooned with stickers, and inside a simple card (and a small religious tract) and a stranger’s name.

It started when her mother-in-law turned 100 in 2000, explains the great-great grandmother who lives on R Street with her son and daughter-in-law and a blind fluffy dog. A woman who wears tennis shoes with red Husker N’s on the tongues, collects ceramic cats, loves her church and buys greeting cards in bulk.

Carolyn Tuttle put her mother-in-law’s picture in Celebrate. She asked readers to send cards to the nursing home in McCook, where Dorothy lived.

The cards came. One card even came from an 11-year-old girl Dorothy didn’t know.

It tickled Dorothy. And it gave Carolyn Tuttle an idea.

If her mother-in-law got such a kick out of those cards, maybe other people would, too.

She began clipping out birthdays and anniversaries every Sunday. She made piles. Men. Women. Couples.

She didn’t bother with the young people, the cute little kids. They’d get plenty of cards anyway.

But older people, maybe some of them were lonely, and being on this earth for such a long time, well, that was an accomplishment in itself.

The couples married such a long time, like she and Leigh were — 50 years before he died — they deserved a card, too.

So she kept clipping. If an address wasn’t printed in the paper, she’d look it up.

On Mondays she’d sit at her roll-top desk and address the stack of envelopes. Sometimes there are 15 cards to take care of, sometimes 20 or more. Then she’d stop at the post office on O Street for special stamps from her favorite clerk. (On Mark Teel’s birthday, Aug. 9, she hand delivers his card.)

It’s been close to eight years now of cards and postage and good wishes.

Carolyn Tuttle doesn’t keep track of the cost. But stamps are 42 cents each, and even inexpensive bulk cards add up.

“It’s fun to do these things,” she says.

And it’s fun when her phone rings, which it often does.

Is this Carolyn Tuttle? asks the voice at the other end, someone like Nita or Joyce or Vicki, puzzled and brave enough to pick up and dial.

Yes, the woman on R Street answers.

And then the next question: How do I know you?

The card lady will explain.

And the response will always be the same: Well, isn’t that nice.

It is nice.

Carolyn Tuttle is 78. She will be 79 on Feb. 27.

And by the way — in case you didn’t know — she has a thing for cards.

Reach Cindy Lange-Kubick at 473-7218 or clangekubick@journalstar.com.