Las Vegas couple prepare to set out on an adventure with the Peace Corps

Karen Zekan

Wednesday, June 2, 1999 | 10:17 a.m.

A cup of coffee held Cork and Carolyn Proctor's thoughts when the idea first stirred their curiosity while they waited out the rain one afternoon in a cafe in Papeete, Tahiti.

It came by way of a stranger. To this day they don't know his name, only that he was a professor at the University of Arizona at Tempe.

They'd seen him a few times before, wandering through town, during their trip. So they waved him over, out of the drizzle, offering a dry seat and some friendly conversation.

Somehow during their chat Dominica came up. The Proctors said they'd always wanted to scuba dive its crystal clear waters. The professor said he had a friend living there -- a friend running the Eastern Caribbean island's program for the Peace Corps.

"The Peace Corps?" Carolyn remembers asking. "I didn't know the Peace Corps still existed."

Well, it does.

And, six months after hearing the news, the Proctors are its next volunteers.

Craving adventure, a new culture and the basic desire to help a people in need, this pair is beyond ecstatic about the adventure that lies ahead of them -- a two-year commitment in a faraway land, helping a Third World nation overcome its obstacles.

Thousands have done it before them; since 1961, more than 145,000 Americans of all ages and backgrounds have enlisted as volunteers in more than 90 countries. Many former volunteers live in Las Vegas.

But what makes the Proctors' story unusual is that both are willing to leave careers they've worked hard to establish. And the fact that she's 55, and he's 66.

Most couples their age can only see retirement on the horizon. The Golden Years. Taking that big vacation to Hawaii they always wanted. Watching the grandchildren grow up.

"It's about growth," says Cork, a longtime comedian and current entertainment manager for Coast Resorts, which includes the Orleans, Gold Coast and Barbary Coast hotel-casinos.

"Everybody gets to the point where they get up one day and say, 'Am I really doing what I'm capable of doing?' And a voice says, 'Maybe not. Let's look at some other options.' I've spent 40 years in show business. Maybe it's time to stop, make a left, or a lateral (move), or a jump, and do something else."

It'll be a big jump -- thousands of miles south.

On their application, the Proctors requested warm-climate assignments in either the Eastern Caribbean or Central or South America, to soothe the little bit of arthritis that pains him.

They should know their country by mid-July, and board the plane in September for three months of in-country training in language and cross-cultural issues before commencing their two-year assignment.

Many volunteers teach English, work in agriculture, forestry, urban planning, small business development, sanitation, health and youth development. The Proctors likely will fall under an assignment called "community service," the broadest Peace Corps program that will make them multi-purpose.

"It's perfect for us because we have such a variety of skills in business, marketing, home economics, auto mechanics, building things," said Carolyn, a writer, graphic artist and founding editor of Nevada Woman magazine and a business owner.

A Peace Corps volunteer is tasked with lending expertise in a particular field to assist a community, then, as Carolyn put it, "training yourself out of a job."

"Whatever you do, you train them to do so that they can do it after you're gone," she said. "That's the whole objective of the program."

Almost seven percent, or approximately 400 Peace Corps volunteers, are over 50 years old -- five percent more than were part of the pool back when President John F. Kennedy's brainchild was launched.

The oldest volunteer ever to serve overseas was the late Arthur Goodfriend of Honolulu, who was 86 years old when he returned in 1994 from a three-year English teaching assignment in Hungary.

Currently, the oldest volunteer is a 78-year-old woman volunteering in Morocco on an agricultural project.

Of the remaining seniors, 47 percent are in their 50s, 45 percent are in their 60s, and 8 percent are in their 70s. Less than half come home before completing their assignments.

"This is a country that is driven by people 28 years old," Cork said. "That's OK, but the point is, there's no substitute for experience. Our country is the only place where people with gray hair are perceived as useless."

"Older people who serve are often more patient, tolerant and less idealistic," said Dana Topousis, a 31-year-old public affairs specialist in the Peace Corps' Washington, D.C. headquarters. "Idealism is great, but older people have a more realistic view of life."

Topousis served in Machakos, Kenya, just outside Nairobi, from 1993-95, assisting with small business. The experience, she said, made her appreciate life and the little things around her.

"Americans live so quickly; they never get to know their neighbors or really appreciate what's around them," Topousis said.

Language is typically the biggest obstacle older volunteers encounter, especially those who haven't ever studied language before. But the experience and knowledge they lend makes up for any limitations, officials say.

"Because of their age, older volunteers are welcomed and well respected," Topousis said. "In other countries, age is seen as wisdom. As a result, older volunteers find it easier to be accepted and they often can't believe it. There's so much we can learn from other countries."

Older volunteers have been as much a part of Peace Corps as college graduates, and follow the same application process. What often proves a bit tedious for them, though, are the extensive medical history and background checks -- solely because there are so many more years to cover.

Every job change, marital situation and broken bone is scrutinized. School records are checked.

Age is never an issue, nor are diseases or afflictions that are medically under control. A 23-year-old with asthma is as welcome as a 50-year-old with diabetes. Location winds up being the only issue -- the individual's particular situation might limit the countries where he or she can serve.

The Proctors won't be packing much beyond clothes to get them by -- and a few favorite cooking utensils.

The couple's stress, however, is in the preparations. The Peace Corps, typically considered a prime option for kids straight out of college who aren't ready to go to work, is often a bigger commitment for the older crowd with more material things to worry about.

"College kids only have to box their books, records and clothes and drop them at their parents," Carolyn said. "As property owners, we have cars and insurance issues to take care of, as well as dogs and other responsibilities."

But, in a sense, that's part of the journey that feeds the craving of those afflicted with wanderlust -- the logistics, the challenge, the adventure.

And a journey is what the Proctors have made out of their marriage.

"We're not the average couple," Cork said. "We both have been very independent. I'm left handed and dyslexic, (a) two-time high school drop out, finished a couple of years in college, was in the service, married, two children.

"What I think has happened in this relationship is that we have discovered this incredible need to 'go-see-do.' That's our theme."

Cork attended Las Vegas High School from 1946-50, was stationed in Southern California during his service with the Navy after the Korean War and obtained a degree in radio arts and television.

He worked in broadcast, radio and television for 20 years in both Reno and Las Vegas before becoming a comic at 40 at Harold's Club in Reno. Nine years of his life were spent entertaining aboard Royal Caribbean cruise ships. His first comedy gig in Las Vegas was at the Frontier hotel-casino in May 1973, in a bar called the Hooker's Nook.

"The night before I opened, they busted 37 hookers right out of that bar," he remembered, laughing. "Management said, 'Oh, don't mention that!' I went right out on stage and said, 'You should've been here last night -- it was a field day! If you'd have been a cop, you'd have done nothing but arrest people all night."

Carolyn grew up in Seattle, spent a year in Detroit as a Playboy bunny, and after getting a two-year degree in commercial art, worked for ad agencies in Los Angeles. She also backpacked in Europe and lived for a while in Paris, studying art and French at the Sorbonne, she said. "So I can speak a little French."

"I was quoted in the Las Vegas Review-Journal in the early '80s as saying I didn't have any intention of being 40 in Las Vegas and I certainly didn't want to die here," she said. "You can see how that's worked out!"

Carolyn helped open the original MGM hotel-casino as a cocktail waitress, worked for ad agencies including one in which she was a partner, went back to school and got a liberal arts degree from Antioch College in Washington before starting Graphic Communications in 1986.

The couple met in 1978 at the old Press Club off East Charleston Boulevard and Burnham Avenue, today the location of a Home Base store.

Cork was roasting Darrell Dryer, a state assemblyman/news director at KNEWS 970-AM.

They married Nov. 3, 1991, at Main Street Station hotel-casino. Everyone -- bride, groom and almost all guests -- were in costume. In lieu of gifts, they asked guests to each donate $25 and wound up raising $6,000 which they gave to Opportunity Village.

Traveling has been a mutual passion.

Both watched their parents scrimp and save, foregoing their dreams -- something Cork and Carolyn each sought to do differently.

Their journeys together have included seeing Israel, Australia, Copper Canyon in Mexico and trekking along the Sutherland Pass in southern New Zealand -- a 35-mile nature walk over dirt paths, switchback trails and swing bridges passing through everything from rocky points to misty, tropical areas.

They recently returned from the Amazon rain forest, and while in Peru had the chance to climb atop the Sun Temple in Machu Picchu, 6,500 feet above the Urubamba River.

Her friends think she conned Cork into joining the Peace Corps; his friends think he conned Carolyn into it.

"The truth is, it's mutual," Carolyn said.

Friends and family -- Cork has two children from a previous marriage -- are supporting them all the way. Some friends are moving into the Proctors' home and bringing along their two dogs as playmates for the Proctors' two Border Collie mixes, Puck, who's 6, and Bingo, who's 14 months.

"It's easy to say, 'Oh, we have dogs -- we can't leave the country.' I don't know, I've never left a pet for two years. I don't know if they'll recognize us," Carolyn said. "But they are going to be safe, in good hands and well-cared for. We can't let that stop us. We'll miss them and probably be feeding every stray dog along the way."

And to think a conversation with a professor in the Tahitian rain started it all -- a man they didn't know and may well never see again.

"Boy, was that weird," Cork said. "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear."

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