When a doctor told Connie Russ she had to leave the high-pressure job that had her traveling the country for the United Postal Service, she was devastated.

&#8220She didn’t want to give it up,” said her husband, Jerry Russ, of Bowling Green.

But thyroid cancer had wreaked havoc on Connie Russ’ immune system, and after nearly every trip she took on an airplane, she developed a serious illness.

When pneumonia left her hospitalized and weak a few years back, her doctor said, &#8220If you go back to work, you die.”

Connie Russ &#8220didn’t want to accept that,” she said.

So she asked her boss at the postal service if she could come back to work without her doctor’s permission.

He told her to apply for disability benefits, and if she was rejected for them, as many people are the first time they apply, he would allow her to come back to work.

For Connie Russ, the news gave her some hope.

But that hope was dashed when her disability was approved and she was forced to leave the job that had found her rising from the ranks of loading a postal truck to writing speeches for the postmaster general of the United States.

&#8220I came home and spent three months in the hammock” and cried nearly every day, Connie Russ said.

Then, the clouds started to lift and &#8220I started sending cards to all the people I missed,” she said.

But the cards weren’t your run-of-the-mill greeting cards.

Each one was designed and made by Connie Russ, often with the interests of the recipient in mind.

There were hula-, golf- and bug-themed cards.

Soon, &#8220I started getting so many people calling for cards” to be made for them to send to others, Connie Russ said.

And she realized she could still have an impact on a world in which she could no longer work outside her home.

&#8220When the doctor told me I wasn’t going to be able to go back to work, I cried and cried,” Connie Russ said. &#8220I felt like the part of my life where I could contribute was over, but that’s so not true. I’ve had so many people call me and say, ‘that one little card touched my life.’ ”

Each week, Connie Russ sets a goal to send 10 cards to people she knows and even to strangers.

She might read or hear about someone who needs a word of encouragement or congratulations. She might see a pretty lawn that makes her feel happy and track down the address of the home it belongs to and send a card to the home’s owner.

&#8220It’s such a simple thing,” she said, &#8220but when you receive a card, it makes you feel special.”

Connie Russ grew up in Bowling Green as the only daughter of Harold and Catherine Cummins, who now live beside her on Ewing Ford Road.

She has one brother, Barry Cummins, now of Atlanta, and started sending greeting cards as a girl.

Back then, Connie Russ wanted to be an artist.

&#8220But it wasn’t practical,” she said.

So she decided to be a journalist, and while a student at Bowling Green High School, won the Daily News prize for most valued staffer on the high school’s newspaper.

At Western Kentucky University, Connie Russ studied journalism.

But after two years, school fell by the wayside as she fell in love with and married George Scott, a Marine who was stationed at the Naval Air Station in Memphis.

Connie Russ said she liked Memphis life.

At the air station, she got a job setting up aircraft maintenance schools and was the only female and civilian in her area.

&#8220Do you think I didn’t live like a queen?” she asked.

For two years, Connie Russ worked at the job, until her husband fulfilled his Marine commitment.

Then the couple returned to Bowling Green, where Connie Russ worked for the Social Security Administration as a claims preparer.

At night, Connie Russ went to school at Western and thought about the days when she could quit work to raise the children she dreamed she would have.

But Connie Russ couldn’t have a child, she said.

&#8220It was hard” to deal with the fact, but she found solace in her work, which, after divorcing Scott, found her employed at the Bowling Green Post Office.

At the post office, Connie Russ started at the bottom, loading trucks on the midnight shift.

&#8220It was exhausting,” she said simply. &#8220But the post office was wonderful to me.”

She was offered the chance to try other jobs, and always accepted them eagerly.

Quickly, she got the attention of supervisors and was offered a job as an account representative, selling postal services in Louisville.

Then, she was asked to give speeches about postal services.

When someone from Washington saw Connie Russ speak in Louisville, she was asked to be on a post office team that spoke about post office classification reform all around the United States.

Connie Russ was nervous about the speaking on the road because she thought her Kentucky accent might be a turn-off.

But when she told the man who was teaching her team about public speaking her concerns, he quickly put her fears at rest.

He said, &#8220We picked you because you’re a tall blonde with a southern accent.”

He was convinced her accent would be viewed as charming.

Connie Russ soon found the man was right.

&#8220I got a lot of requests” for speaking engagements, she said.

She learned not to cover up her accent &#8220but to flaunt it.”

Again, Connie Russ was devoted to her work and was soon on a postal service public relations team.

That job led her to be on national sales team that did aggressive selling of postal services to businesses.

Connie Russ often worked 70 hours a week at the job, which found her becoming a full-time mail order sales consultant with offices in Washington, D.C., and Bowling Green and accounts with Victoria’s Secret, Cabella and Land’s End.

&#8220My goal was to take business away from UPS and Fed Ex,” she said.

Grover F. &#8220Fred” Van Fleet, who had been postmaster in Bowling Green and management sectional center manager in charge of 136 surrounding post offices in the early days of Connie Russ’ postal career, was not at all surprised at her success.

&#8220She was a very good postal employee – she learned the ropes real good and real quick,” he said. &#8220She was in the right position at the right time and she was willing to go outside the realm of her present position to do other things.”

Connie Russ planned to be with the postal service for many years.

&#8220Unfortunately, I got cancer,” she said.

And while she survived, over the next four or five years, Connie Russ was sick a lot, until she was forced to quit work.

As she lay in her hammock, she had a lot to think about.

Years earlier, before traveling took her away from Bowling Green, she had given the first victim’s impact statement in Kentucky on behalf of her aunt Selma Cummins, who was killed by a drunk driver.

By working with Mothers of Drunk Drivers, she helped other families give victims statements and got out the word about the dangers of drunk driving.

While working at the postal service, she had married Jerry Russ, the boy who had lived down the street from her in her teen years and had thrilled her each time he passed in his Corvette.

She had worked to get the word out about Kentucky’s seat belt law, had been an early graduate of Leadership Bowling Green and had volunteered for the local chamber of commerce.

Making cards she would send and creating other art would be a way she could continue to contribute to the world in the days after all her other work was over.

Now, Connie Russ says she’s lucky.

The following words float across her computer screen when she’s not working on something else: &#8220Be the most enthusiastic and positive person you know.”

&#8220That’s my mantra in life,” Connie Russ said.

Several quotes taped to her desk help her with her goal.

&#8220Every day I get up and think, ‘I want to create something today and do something that impacts someone today,’ ” Connie Russ said. &#8220It’s a wonderful thing to be able to touch somebody. You never know, it may be their darkest day and you helped put some light in it.”

– Connie Russ is now selling her one-of-a-kind cards and other art. For more information, call 781-7982 or e-mail her at cruss001@bellsouth.net.