Women Studies classes could spend a semester on Atlanta Constance Sampson and see persistence in a new light each day. Outcome counts. Born in 1896 four miles north of Toeterville, Iowa, on the Minnesota border, this artist modeled much to be emulated: but the pictures stand on their own merit, no matter the birth canal's repressed state.

In 1947 Sammy, as she was called by friends, left teaching in Detroit for New York's art world. She carved out a small place for herself, however, in her fifties, the focus on youth, drugs and the avant-garde compounded her challenge.

She lived in a one-room apartment, where the art work piled up. She sold a few pieces, took temporary jobs, and later received small Social Security checks. Iowa relatives helped her out on occasion. The lack of funds forced Atlanta to paint on both sides of many canvases, and sometimes on both sides of brown grocery bags.

The artist's subjects varied from the flowers of her youth to industrial Detroit to New York street scenes to the seaside culture of Province town.

She studied with Hans Hoffman at Province town in the sixties. He told her, "Atlanta, you have something very few people are given in life. I can teach you little. Paint, just paint."

At the Art Students League in New York her teachers were Theodore Stamos, Thomas Fogarty, Bernard Klonis and Bruce Dorfman. At age 84 she received a full scholarship from the League.

Atlanta watched friends and other artists grow in stature of gain recognition, while she was routinely turned away from galleries. Doing the best she could, her patience lasted decades.

At 91 and in failing health, she was resigned to moving back to Iowa; the dream of a one-women show in a good gallery eluding her. So, in an attempt to buoy her spirits, the deli folks on the first floor urged her to bring down some pictures for display.

Movie style, a man wanted a sandwich and saw "Crane Walk" in the window. Owen Ryan discovered Atlanta's work and helped organize the National Arts Club show. He also played a major role in an exhibition at the Rotunda of the Russell Senate Office Building in Washington, D.C. It was her 96th birthday.

Many shows followed and she became a commercial success. One charcoal nude sold for $7,000.

Atlanta died in 1995. Her work is owned by collectors across the country. Nephew Fred Langrock has dedicated the Unionhurst Gallery, Toeterville, to her soaring spirit.