Last modified: Thursday, May 31, 2007 1:35 AM EDT The heart of city hall BY GEORGE W. RHODES SUN CHRONICLE STAFF ATTLEBORO -- There's a special chair in Linda Alger's office. It's right across from her desk, next to a little table. It's where office guests sit, but more importantly it was where City Clerk Sue Flood sat when she would amble down from the other end of city hall to have a chat with Alger, who as city council administrator was a colleague, but also was a personal friend of two decades. The pair would spend some time on city business or a charity event they were working on. Sometimes they just talked as friends. They talked about personal stuff - heart to heart stuff. That's one of the many things Alger says she will miss about Flood, who died Saturday at the age of 65 - the talks and the friendship. "She was the definition of a true friend," Alger said. "She was someone you could confide in. You could tell her something in confidence, and it wouldn't be repeated." And it wasn't just Alger who found a confidant and good listener in Flood. There were many at the seat of city government who trusted the official keeper of public documents as a trusted keeper of private thoughts, as well. "We have a saying around here," Alger said. "We'd say, 'Sue put it in her vault.' And she did." Alger and other workers spent time recalling their friend Tuesday, the first day at work since Flood's death on Saturday - and it was a tough day. It was a subdued and tearful day for anyone who knew the woman described as a friend to all at city hall. "We all had a good cry this morning," Alger said. "I don't think I've seen this much sadness since I've been working here. It's really hard for everybody." Betty Shockroo, the city's community development director and friend of Flood for almost 30 years, echoed that sentiment. "This morning was probably the hardest morning ever to walk through these doors," she said. "Some of us didn't make it to the doors before we started crying." A wake for Flood Thursday at Dyer-Lake Funeral Home in North Attleboro drew 800 to 1,000 visitors, the funeral home said. A funeral Mass is scheduled for 10 a.m. today at St. Martha's Church in Plainville. While Flood has been praised for her integrity, hard work, advocacy for the needs of her office and her efforts above and beyond the call of duty as city clerk, it was her caring that endeared her to people, co-workers said. The eight-term city clerk was actively involved with a number charities, some originating from city hall, like the Christmas food drive and Soup for Heat, but Alger said her friend performed many acts of unheralded kindness. It was the small things Flood did while no one was looking that helped define her, Alger said. She remembers Flood constantly saving cans and bottles and hauling them in to city hall to give to a man she knew who used the deposits to supplement a meager income. And Flood opened city hall after hours numerous times to issue a last minute birth certificate for someone about to travel or to prepare a duplicate marriage license for a couple who lost their original, with the wedding only hours away. One city hall worker, who did not want to be named, said Flood once helped her anonymously. The woman said she was struggling to make ends meet while raising her young children alone after her divorce. Flood saw the woman was having a hard time, and arranged to have a Thanksgiving dinner basket with all the fixings delivered to her door. "All I had to do was cook," the woman said. Flood never said a word about it and never admitted to the act of kindness, the woman said. "But I knew it was her," she said. Alger said acts of quiet kindness constantly set an example. "We should all try to be more like her," she said. Shockroo wiped tears away while talking about Flood. She said they first met 27 years ago. Flood was secretary for then Mayor Gerald Keane. They hit it off immediately. "She was easy to get close to and easy to talk to," Shockroo said. "She was an all-around good person." Shockroo said she valued Flood's honesty. "She always told you what she thought," she said. "And if you were going wrong, she'd tell you about it - nicely." City Auditor Deb Gould shook her head sadly when asked about Flood, who has been described as a mentor to younger workers. Gould felt her influence, and was glad she had the chance. "I'm a better person for having known her," she said. "I think most people are. I'm going to miss her." Gould, along with Alger and Shockroo, often ate lunch together in what they called 'the executive lunch room,' a small meeting room next to city council chambers. That's where Gould got to know Flood best. Flood's integrity, hard work and honesty were well known, but Gould said she also found a great sense of humor in her friend. "She came out with the funniest things sometimes," Gould said. In many ways, Flood's life was defined by city hall, but her friends said there was an active and rich private life outside those walls. They said Flood, who was not married, was devoted to her extended family. She was like a mother to nieces and nephews and a grandmother to grandnieces and grandnephews. And when she wasn't with them, she was painting or watching sports. She was an ardent fan of the Red Sox and the rodeo, especially bull riding, friends said. Flood whiled away some leisure hours painting, and decorated her office with her works. The latest to go up was a still life of a pineapple. There are others, a spray of daisies and a haunting picture of a lighthouse among them. Assistant City Clerk Sharon Rivard said Flood brought in the pineapple painting about six months ago, and left it leaning by a wall. Flood suggested it wasn't good enough to be on display, Rivard recalled. "If you want to hang it up, go ahead," Rivard recalled Flood saying. "She was always critical of her work, but we thought it was good," Rivard said. The painting was put up. Alger said Flood's weekends could be consumed by sports. And even as she lay ill in the hospital with a lung ailment that was slowly stealing her life, Flood would focus on a game. "I went to visit her, and I noticed she was kind of looking through me," Alger said. "Then I realized she was trying to watch the Red Sox on a TV behind me." And while Flood lived in a city, she had some country girl roots some might find surprising, Shockroo said. "She was a big fan of bull riding," she said. "She'd go to the rodeo every year." And in the early years of their friendship, the two would go to concerts featuring country music stars Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton. While Flood was serious about her job as justice of the peace and the marrying power she possessed, she was not averse to mixing a little fun with it, her friends said. A few months ago a couple who love lobster asked her to wear a lobster costume to marry them. Flood went along. She later commented about it for a story in The Sun Chronicle. "It was a serious wedding, but we had fun and a lot of laughs," she said. Alger said Flood once married a couple who described themselves as a witch and warlock. "She was always serious and dignified with the ceremonies, but I know there were times it was hard for her to keep a straight face," Alger said. Flood performed her last wedding on April 17. It's believed to be the last day she went to city hall. It was a hard day. She wasn't well and had to tote an oxygen tank with her, but she was there because she promised to be there and was determined to keep the promise, Alger said. "She never wanted to disappoint anybody," Alger said. Flood was similarly dedicated to her chores with the council, for whom she was the official record keeper and unofficial parliamentarian. She called the roll for hundreds, if not thousands of votes over the years. And on March 27, she called the roll for what has been dubbed an "historic" vote authorizing a sweeping urban renewal plan officials hope will revitalize downtown. The vote came at a special meeting, and Flood attended despite faltering health. She had her oxygen tank in tow - and as the meeting ran long, the oxygen ran low. It became a concern. Alger believes Flood turned the rate of flow down a little to make the oxygen last a little longer. Flood's last meeting was April 3. She was sick and was supposed to be recuperating at home, but her substitute had been stricken with an illness and was hospitalized, so Flood came in again - for the last time. But not all of her final series of council meetings were as dramatic or stressful for the longtime city clerk. At one meeting a few months ago, Flood sparked a laugh when she uncharacteristically forgot to call for a vote from Council President Barry LaCasse. LaCasse had been under fire for suggesting that he, as president, was entitled to two votes in some circumstances involving joint committees. When Flood didn't call his name, it prompted a quip from the council president. "I'd like to get at least one vote," he said. Everyone, including Flood, broke up. It was one of the last laughs Flood enjoyed with her friends. And now city hall is changed forever, Alger said. "There are many things that won't be the same anymore," she said. "I don't know what we're going to do without her." GEORGE W. RHODES can be reached at 508-236-0432 or at grhodes@thesunchronicle.com.