Shanna Jasper would rather shine the spotlight on others than be in it, claiming she leads “a very plain and boring life,” but then going all-in as an elf for the Key West Christmas parade with her colleagues. She doesn’t say much, but in her actions one sees who she is.
Today she’s greeting every person who walks into the Salvation Army on Flagler Avenue with a sincere and happy hello. Some barely look up, others are visibly lifted by her simple kindness. Either way, she’ll offer a cart to help make your shopping easier.
“I try to always remember that people will do what works best for them,” she says, referencing more than whether the cart is ignored or taken.
One of the store’s newest employees, Shanna – “like banana,” she says – ironically had never set foot into a thrift store here in the eight years she’s lived in Key West.
“I was just praying for a second job, trying to manifest one,” she says. “My sister went in there just for sh*ts and giggles and there was a Help Wanted sign for a full-time employee. I applied — the application was like a 27-page packet, no kidding — and two weeks later I got the job.”
“It’s the best and most fun job I’ve ever had, along with my other job at Sally O’Brien’s,” she says. “And I love the team of people.”
Shanna lives the spirit of what the Salvation Army stands for, written across its aprons: “Dedication to doing the most good.” And I would know, having been the recipient of that good on more than one occasion.
I met Shanna in 2015 while she was out walking her sweet shih tzu, Mitzi, in midtown Key West, where we were next-door neighbors. I was taken by her vibrant but humble personality, her twinkling eyes and smile that could give Santa a run for his reindeer. We crossed paths regularly, me sweating on a Zigo bike with my smalls in their pod, racing the clock to get them to or from, and her heading out or coming home from her waitressing shift at Denny’s. Like many Key Westers, we were often dead tired, under pressure and harried. Still, Shanna always made a point to shout out some sort of kindness.
It’s hard to write a column about a self-declared introvert who’d rather shine the spotlight than be in it, but I’ll give it my Christmas best. Though she was a constant and sure presence in my day-to-day life, I knew little about her other than where she worked and the name of her dog. I got the sense she preferred it that way and so kept my questions to a minimum.
I didn’t share much about myself, either, though the sounds emanating from our open window into her yard on cooler winter days probably gave her some insight. With three people living in what a friend called “a small glorified shed with nice stuff in it” (mostly from Salvation Army, ha!) and two of them under the age of 7, I’m sure she was showered with enough vocal protests or hilarious laughter to put two and two together.
On Easter Sunday morning, I rose in the dark to hide the small handful of eggs I found at good ol’ Sally Anne’s (aka Salvation Army). I was overwhelmed and underprepared for the holiday that usually came in April, but that year occurred in March. But the Easter Bunny had already come. Eggs were scattered about my yard and a bag of a few dozen more hung from my front gate.
When I saw her next, she just smiled her usual smile and waved as she drove away.
Christmas. Valentine’s Day. There were gifts waiting for my smalls who held the wonder of magic strong in their hearts. When I asked if it was her, she just laughed.
