Two memories popped into my head when I read about Lady Bird Johnson's death at age 94.

I had met her just once. She had nice eyes and a wide smile. That's memory one. And she was wearing white.

Memory two, some years later after she was widowed, I saw her influence in beautifying America.

She didn't have to be there. I saw her spirit.

Some say she wasn't a beauty. I'm not sure how we define the word, but I think she had it in the best possible way.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Nobody considered Lady Bird a beauty except those who really knew her beyond outward appearance.

I met her at the White House when she was first lady in 1968. It was my first and only visit there.

And years later I saw the results of what she had started as a wildflower project while driving from Austin to Galveston, Texas.

While I was one of several fashion editors at that first meeting being introduced to her at a White House luncheon honoring America's fashion designer talent, I can easily describe her in one word -- gracious.

And there is beauty in being gracious.

In those early days as we were all learning more about the Lyndon Johnson First Family when he was vice president, there were many jokes about the names, Lady Bird, Lynda Bird and Luci Bird -- and many snide remarks about the fact Mrs. Johnson wasn't in the same class as Jacqueline Kennedy.

Of course, she shared the spotlight with possibly the most stylish first lady we had ever known, and when President Kennedy was assassinated she was thrust into the position no woman would have relished, especially under the circumstances in achieving that role.

She wasn't as style-conscious as Mrs. Kennedy, but it was she who opened the White House doors for the first fashion show ever held there, and, to my knowledge, the last.

She watched the parade of American designer clothes on a runway with great enthusiasm that day. I was sitting fairly close to her table in the State Dining Room, and near her daughter, Lynda Robb, who had recently been married down the hallway in the East Room.

The very top American designers were in attendance, and it was a tribute to their talents with lots of red, white and blue and flag-waving.

And during that luncheon, President Johnson stopped by to greet everyone, putting his arm around her shoulder and showing his pride in her. From what I have read, it was real. She seemed to adore him, which many people couldn't understand at the time, but he returned that affection, at least in that moment, to these eyes. He kissed his daughter on the cheek as he left the room.

I liked him much more after that.

Years later I was invited by a good friend and Austin fashion writer, the late Carolyn Bengston, to take a trip to Galveston.

The drive from Austin was better than the actual days at the beach, and it was a good thing I wasn't driving because I surely would have wrecked at some point.

The hills were alive, that's for sure. They were alive with wildflowers in every color imaginable. I couldn't stop raving and gawking and pointing and exclaiming look over there, look over there. Isn't that the most gorgeous purple you ever saw?

Being a Texan, Carolyn had seen it before, and, although somewhat indifferent as I was gushing, she said with obvious pride, "This is what Lady Bird did."

Her wildflower project stands out to this day as one of the most glorious sights I have ever seen. I can only hope it has continued to expand the countryside and draw the delight I had that day.

Closer to home, along Washington Boulevard toward the Highland Park Bridge, an area on the left side of the road near the Allegheny River Boulevard intersection has been planted with unusual grasses and many yellow wildflowers, which have just matured this summer, much like those in Schenley Park near the playground at the bottom of Bartlett Street.

In fact, flowers all around Pittsburgh this summer -- whether the efforts of individual homeowners, Western Pennsylvania Conservancy or business establishments and colleges -- often make me let out squeals of delight at the beauty and what they add to our landscape.

Maybe they're not wildflowers, but they remind us of nature and our environment. And maybe, just a nod should go to a gracious southern lady who saw beauty everywhere.

I've shared this before, but the plaque hanging in my garden carries one of Lady Bird Johnson's quotes which I shall look at with more gratitude: "Where there are flowers, there is hope."