I know there are tributes far more personal coming, or that have come, and from those that knew the now late Mayor Karen Alexander better than I.

But I need to dip my oar in this water, even briefly, because at first I was surprised by how hard her death has hit me. As I began to think about it, about my interactions and relationship with her, I began to see she meant far more to me than I had realized.

When I came to the Post about three years ago, she was one of the first community leaders that I met. And from the start, she was encouraging and supportive and accessible, and for a journalist, that’s a gift and a half.

Anytime I called, if she wasn’t immediately available, she was calling me back inside an hour. When there were things going on and I didn’t have the history but needed it, she filled me in. When I worried about possible conflicts, she reassured me that issues could, and would be resolved without fighting.

I have heard and read comment after comment about her ability to create consensus, and it’s true. It wasn’t that she didn’t think folks could disagree, but she insisted that they be courteous about it. She didn’t tolerate shouting and insults, pointing people instead back to facts and to remaining calm.

She believed in compromise as well, something that seems to have become something of a dirty word in politics of late. She understood innately that compromise, each side giving a little to get something important, is how just about all actions have come about in our history, and that reaching across the aisle, whether it be party to party or just opposing sides of thought, is essential.

Having grown up as a southern woman, I heard the phrase “iron fist in a velvet glove” more times than I can count, and it was the ideal of what a lady should be.

I knew a few, my grandmother being one. Strong as steel, but genteel, polite almost to a fault and never one who tolerated raised voices or arguments. There was always a gentle way to work things out for her, and she expected the same of her family. It didn’t always work, but she had high expectations nonetheless.

Karen was another one of those women. Her polite manner and soft voice belied the steel core, the strength within, but it was most assuredly there.

She not only became an architect when women were not yet fully welcomed into the field, but she became a ground-breaking one. She didn’t just design structures, but she worked with and around the earth to make sure the buildings would be the best fit for the land. She looked at the future and did her best to make sure the contributions she made would not only be lasting, but would be beneficial when possible.

She was intelligent, funny, a born leader and a woman who broke glass ceilings without making a mess. She simply achieved, and left the fanfare to others. But she was, and remains a tremendous role model, not just because she was successful in many roles previously considered “male roles,” but because she did so with grace and poise.

I have long admired her willingness to try anything, to throw herself into an event or activity wholeheartedly, and with confidence, even if it was entirely new to her. I never saw her worry about her appearance or about the possibility of being embarrassed. She simply jumped in with both feet, letting her joy and her love of her community shine and guide her, and it meant no matter what she did, she looked good doing it.

She also was the most put-together woman I’ve known, aside from my own mother, and that’s saying something. My own dear mother never once left the house without lipstick, perfectly coifed hair and an outfit that looked straight out of Vanity Fair. And Karen was just the same. She looked like she’d just stepped out of the salon every time we met, and though that’s not my personality, I admired and envied that quality. It’s all my mother could do to get me to brush my hair and put on chapstick, but women like these two make me think, just maybe, they were on to something.

But more than all of that, Karen was the person who could put your self confidence back on track, with just a word or two. The way she spoke to everyone I heard made it clear that she absolutely believed in people and their abilities, and so should they. She left no room for doubt, from her or from you. And to give that to everyone you meet is beyond incredible.

Salisbury has a strong city council and leadership that cares about the community it serves, and though they have lost their leader for the moment, they will pull together in the direction she had established because they are cohesive, and that legacy I know will carry on.

I know her family will lean on their memories in the days ahead, and the stories so many will share. And I know Karen was one of the rare people in this world who connected with, and belonged to, all of us.

I will remember her smile, warm and true, her gentle way of speaking, and the way she believed in me as much as she believed in herself. And I will be forever grateful our paths crossed, because I am the better for it. We can all keep her spirit, her legacy, alive by maybe adding a bit of her personality to who we are. A little kindness, a little belief, a little laughter, and a little willingness to jump in with both feet once in a while. I know she’d love that.

Elisabeth Strillacci covers crime, courts, Spencer, East Spencer and Kannapolis for the Salisbury Post.