Tuesday, May 11, 1999, Paint Lick, Kentucky - Don't try to figure her out. Don't try to stand in Dean Cornett's shoes and understand why she spends most every hour of every day helping other people. Don't try to label her as an eccentric, simply because she doesn't hoard money and possessions like the rest of us, or because she gets her thrills out of helping complete strangers, without asking for anything in return.

Cornett, who turned 81 this month, once exercise her benevolent muscle in the 1950's, when a flood devastated many towns in eastern Kentucky. Within days, she rallied enough people, and gathered enough resources to help the residents of the area get back on their feet. The extent to which she garnered support and motivated people to contribute is remembered with great respect to this day. "I've got a knack for talking to people," she says. "I've got a knack for getting things together."

In the late 1980's, while helping a high school student with a class project, Cornett organized "Friends of Paint Lick" to help the residents of this small, Appalachian area help themselves. She acquired a store front on Main Street, right next to the river, and began filling it with donations. Everything went right out the door the same way it came in - for free. Different from a thrift shop, Cornett made sure that, if you had no money and you needed clothing, you would get clothing. If you needed shoes, you would get shoes, and you wouldn't pay a dime.

Cornett was a widow of a farmer, and though she worked without a salary, she certainly couldn't support "Friends" by herself. Money would come from somewhere, she knew, and she was right. People donated money occasionally, and the Kellogg Foundation even paid $9,000 of the building's $12,000 mortgage.

Cornett named her organization "Friends" of Paint Lick because she knew that it would take many people to make this work. "I'm nothing special," she says. "I don't want to be glorified - a lot of people have helped me, and I couldn't have done this alone." Cornett may have plenty of help, but she is the knot holding this web together, she is an inspiration to many, and it is because of her that they are able to help themselves and others.

"I've got friends in high places, and I've got friends in low places," she says. "I'm a friend of everybody." When she was invited by President George Bush to visit the White House and receive the National Service Award in 1991, she made a few more friends. "The people around me were so awed and quiet," she says. "I told them; 'I'm on the highest soapbox I've ever been on, they're going to hear what I have to say!'"

Today, Friends of Paint Lick is responsible for distribution of clothing, books and food. It is a clearing house for area churches and organizations, and its reach stretches far wider than the unincorporated town's borders - people from around the county donate, volunteer and receive items. It is an organization which gives people more than a shirt or shoes; it gives them pride.

"Friends" also hosts GED courses and classes from the University of Kentucky, and Cornett believes that this is its most valuable offering, because a shirt will keep a person warm for a few years, but knowledge can keep him warm for life. While many people are pushing for more prisons and more police officers, Cornett is proactive. Rather than wait for someone to attempt to fix their lives in a short, desperate, wrongful act, she tries to give them a fair chance to begin with, sometimes a whole new start on life.

The rewards come to her from all angles. When the county chamber of commerce held a banquet two years ago, to give Cornett a humanitarian award, she had no idea why the governor of Kentucky, Paul Patton, would want to visit the rural area. He tried to present Cornett with the award, but was thwarted by her shyness. Cornett's granddaughter, instead, walked to the podium. In his speech, he mentioned, among her other deeds, her actions following the destructive flood four decades ago. After giving the girl the award plaque, the governor told her that his home was damaged by that flood, and that his family was hit hard. He remembered vividly, seeing those trucks full of supplies rolling into town.

It's nine O'clock on a warm, spring evening, and Cornett is not home. She is downtown, at the "Friend's" office, waiting for a delivery. She will be here late, as she is many nights. Sometimes, she doesn't even drive her 1970 Chevy pickup home, but she just sleeps on one of the old mattresses, right there in that old building on Main Street, next to the river, and she'll be right there, ready to work in the morning.

Why, oh why does she do this? "It's just in your DNA," she says. "If it was a sin, I'd do it anyway." Don't try to figure Dean Cornett out, just be glad she is perhaps one of the best Friends Paint Lick, Kentucky has, and just be glad that she is a friend of ours.