Even when Vivian Clausen was 100 years old and told not to use stairs without help anymore, she still managed to sneak from her apartment down to Rice Street.

There, the tiny woman cleaned and swept the bus stop at Rice Street and Milford Street. It was something she did for years, ever since she had successfully lobbied to have a bus shelter put at the corner in consideration of her friends in the area who had disabilities.

This was the community-minded, fiercely independent “Mother of Rice Street” that so many knew and loved.

Clausen, 102, died last month.

Clausen, who lived for 75 years on Rice Street, drew attention beyond the North End in recent years because of her close friendship with Thomas Smith, who recently retired as St. Paul police chief.

Smith, who referred to Clausen as his “second mother,” called her up on stage and embraced her when he was sworn in as police chief in 2010. About two and a half weeks before she died, Smith’s staff surprised him by bringing Clausen to a retirement party for him.

“She’d call me her son, which almost brought me to tears, especially after my mom died,” Smith said Tuesday. “It was like God put us together. … She was such a gem.”

Clausen was born Dec. 18, 1913, in North St. Paul. She didn’t talk much about her childhood years, but great-niece Debra Warren said she recently found out more from Clausen’s cousin.

Clausen and her brother were raised by their grandparents, and then an aunt and uncle in Neillsville, Wis. Clausen left school to work.

In 1939, then 25-year-old Vivian Clausen and husband Andrew Clausen moved to a Rice Street apartment. Vivian lived there and then in an apartment across the street until 2014.

For all of Clausen’s maternal instincts, she did not get to raise a child of her own. Vivian and Andrew’s only child died at birth.

But Vivian Clausen always loved children and was especially close with Warren’s mother as she grew up. She also had dogs that she adored and treated as her babies, Warren said.

Clausen was a hard worker, Warren said. She retired from Kaplan Paper Box Co., and while working there she held various side jobs — collecting rent from tenants, cleaning her apartment building and a dentist’s office, and working at a Laundromat.

For years, Clausen attended community and police department meetings.

“She wanted to have her say and if she thought something was wrong, she wanted to fix it,” Warren said. “If something was broke, she was bound and determined to fix it, whether it meant getting out a hammer or getting involved.”

Clausen would call in tips on crimes she observed from her second-story apartment overlooking Rice Street and she even exacted her own justice. “My hand is hurt after slugging a couple of them,” she said in 2009 of some past transgressors.

The walls of Clausen’s small apartment were covered with plaques, from a certificate of appreciation given to her by the police department to a “Vivian Mary Clausen Day” proclamation from the city, to birthday well-wishes from a governor.

Clausen made headlines in 2009, when a man snatched a gold necklace from her neck on Rice Street. She said it was a gift from Andrew after he returned from World War II. He had died suddenly in 1974 and Clausen never took off the necklace, saying in 2009 that she would often place her hand on it to feel closer to him.

Police officers took the case personally. The robber had preyed on a 95 year old, who they knew as a neighborhood watchdog.

“The unwritten rule around here is that you don’t touch Vivian,” Smith explained at the time.

After officers arrested the suspect, police found Clausen’s necklace. Smith and now-Assistant Chief Matt Toupal returned it to Clausen’s apartment.

Clausen continued living in her Rice Street apartment until past her 100th birthday and she kept her weekly routine. She had her hair done at Ritter Professional Beauty Salon on Rice Street and went out to a favorite restaurant — Mama’s Pizza or Coffee Cup, said Irene Diaz, who knew Clausen for about 40 years. Clausen was also a regular at the Union Gospel Mission for sing-alongs — she would sing and play the tambourine.

But after Clausen fell and broke her shoulder in 2014, she wasn’t able to live alone any more. Warren found her the closest nursing home to Rice Street possible.

Clausen died on May 22 at New Harmony Care Center.

She had selected things she loved to be buried with her — the ashes of her two toy poodles, a “Grand Marshal” sash from the Rice Street parade, and a replica police badge that Smith had made for her in 2011 with her initials on it.