Michelle Cox's Blog, page 34

Surrounded by Angels…And One Devil

Gerald “Jerry” Dziedzic was born on October 25, 1909 in Braddock, Pennsylvania to Wojtek and Paula Dziedzic, both immigrants from Poland.  Not much is known about Jerry’s early life, except that he was the youngest of seven children and that his father worked as a laborer in a factory.

Jerry went to school on and off until the eighth grade, and as a young man, he somehow made his way to Chicago to find work.  He ended up working south of the city, which was still farm land then.  He met Flora Glab at a baseball game, and the two married a few months later, though his parents did not even know about the happy event.  Flora worked in a radio factory until their first child, Marjorie, was born.  According to Jerry, Flora wasn’t quite right after Marjorie’s birth and became very unhappy.  Within months, she packed up her things and the baby and left Jerry, though he never really understood why.

Flora did not tell Jerry where she went, but he attempted over the years to trace her or Marjorie.  He eventually found out that Flora had placed Marjorie in foster care when she was very young and that Flora herself had since died.  Marjorie was fifteen by the time Jerry finally located her and applied to have her come and live with him and his new wife, Lillian Novotny.  Jerry hoped to make up for all of the lost years, but Marjorie was shockingly disruptive and “wild” and very antagonistic to Lillian.  Eventually, Lillian could no longer take Marjorie’s antics and threatened to divorce Jerry if he didn’t do something with his daughter.  Jerry, not wanting to estrange his daughter after all these years, chose to do nothing, so Lillian left him.  Jerry then tried to build a new life with Marjorie, but as soon as she was eighteen, she got married and moved away.  After she left, Jerry lived alone for many years and worked as a truck driver.

For a long time, Jerry’s only friend was a Greek woman by the name of Dora Simonides, who lived in the apartment next to him.  Dora apparently had problems with her children as well, and she and Jerry often commiserated together and occasionally went out to keep from being lonely.  One day out of the blue, Dora asked Jerry to marry her, and he said yes.  The two friends did not have a long time together, however, before Dora was diagnosed with early Alzheimer’s.  Jerry tried to care for her on his own, but it eventually got to be too much.  So with a heavy heart, he admitted her to a nursing home, at which point Marjorie reappeared after being absent from Jerry’s life for years.  She had apparently heard of her father’s remarriage and Dora’s admission to a home and had thus turned up to demand her share of her father’s money before it was “sucked up” by Dora’s nursing home expenses.

Wanting to please her and keep her in his life, Jerry agreed to give Marjorie $43,000 of his savings and take Dora back home to care for her there rather than spending all of “their” money on a nursing home.  Jerry reluctantly cared for Dora as best he could, though he was seventy-eight himself, until Dora died in 1987.  After Dora’s death, Marjorie convinced Jerry to move to a senior apartment at Lawrence House and to buy her son, David, a trailer home.  Jerry was again reluctant to leave his apartment where he had had some happy years with Dora, but he was afraid to disappoint Marjorie. He sold all of his furniture and gave the money to Marjorie and David and then moved into his new studio apartment at Lawrence House.  He was crushed, then, when, after getting the money, Marjorie promptly disappeared again.  For a couple of years, Jerry amazingly continued to work as a maintenance man at Lincoln West Hospital, where he had worked for over two decades, but he retired when he was eighty, shortly after his move to Lawrence House.

Alone again, Jerry often went to the Levy Senior Citizens Center to socialize, as he had absolutely no one else in his life.  At the Levy Center, he met a volunteer, Evelyn Harris, who “had a smile for everyone.”  Evelyn befriended Jerry and often went to visit/check on him at his apartment in Lawrence House.  The first time she went, she was appalled by the squalor that he was living in.  She had suspected something was wrong because his clothes were always dirty and ill-fitting, but when she got to his apartment, she saw that the whole place was dirty, particularly his bed, and that he had no dishes or utensils or food of any kind.  Feeling sorry for him, she took him home to live with her.  Apparently, it was a happy arrangement, but, again, short-lived, as Jerry then had a heart attack and two strokes.

After his second stroke, the hospital staff where he had been admitted tried to convince Evelyn to place him in a nursing home, but she refused.  It didn’t take too long, however, before she realized that she had made a mistake and that caring for Jerry was now too much.  With a long-time friend, who also knew Jerry from his days at Lincoln West, Evelyn found and placed Jerry in a nursing home.  Only once did Marjorie materialize to visit him, during which time she—as usual—caused havoc between Jerry and Evelyn.  Jerry fought with Evelyn, telling her to stay away and not to visit as much, as it was causing Marjorie not to come around.  Evelyn was extremely hurt by this and stayed away for a time, until she “came to her senses” and decided to confront Marjorie.  Marjorie had long since gone, however, so there was no threat for Evelyn to have to face.  Evelyn and Jerry made up, then, and she continued to faithfully visit him.

Things went on this way until 1996, when Evelyn went through routine knee surgery and unexpectedly died.  This was very hard on Jerry, though his cognitive status by that point had diminished considerably.  With the help of the nursing home staff, he attended Evelyn’s funeral and there met yet another guardian angel, Katie, who was Evelyn’s granddaughter.  Katie of course knew about her grandmother’s friend, Jerry, whom she had devoted so many years to, but she had never met him.  Before she died, Evelyn had managed to extract a promise from Katie that she would continue to look after Jerry for her.  Katie took her promise very seriously and made frequent visits to the nursing home in the city to see Jerry, though she lived in Elgin.  After a time, Katie asked Jerry if he would consider moving to a nursing home closer to her so that she could see him more, and he quickly became obsessed with going, pestering the staff constantly to make it happen.

Once established in the new nursing home, however, Jerry soon soured toward it and begged to be taken back to the nursing home in the city where he had been.  Katie gave him some time to get adjusted, but he remained adamant in wanting to return.  Finally, Katie made the arrangements for him to be transferred, reminding him repeatedly, for what it was worth, considering his poor cognition, that she would not be able to visit as often.  At one point, she attempted to contact Marjorie, who had a less than favorable response to Katie’s efforts, telling her not to call again.

Jerry returned to the nursing home which Evelyn had placed him in, but his cognitive status and physical health continued to decline until he died at age ninety-two.  Only Katie, her husband, and her two children attended his funeral.

The post Surrounded by Angels…And One Devil appeared first on Michelle Cox.

“I Wanted to Be With People”

Erna Lindner was born on May 27, 1904 on a farm in Austria, which later became part of Czechoslovakia.  Her parents, Alban Hager and Sylvia Kainz, worked “night and day” on the farm, and when Alban had to fight in the First World War, the running of the farm fell on Sylvia and their five children: Alban, Jr., Theresa, Walter, Erna and Martin.  Erna says that it was “a very, very, very had life.  Very difficult,” even after her father came back from the war, though, she says, “we always had plenty of good, fresh food.”  Erna says that no one really went to school, except Sunday school, and as young people they never went out and socialized, as there was always too much work to do on the farms.

Erna did meet a boy, however, named Theo Lindner, at church.  Her only time to see him was on Sunday afternoons when he would sometimes come to the Hager farm to visit and talk with Erna’s parents.  As time went on, all three of Erna’s older siblings left for America.  Finally, Theo left, too.  From that point on, Erna was desperate to get to America to be with Theo.  Finally, when she was 19, in 1923, her parents arranged for her to travel with a large group from their town who were all making the journey together.  Only her baby brother, Martin, remained behind to care for the farm and their parents.

Erna stuck with the group on the long ship ride over and then traveled to Chicago, where she was reunited with her sister, Theresa.  Erna immediately found a job as a waitress at a restaurant at Cicero and 26th and then began looking for Theo.  She finally found him and within 3 months of arriving in America, she married Theo Lindner.  They had a small wedding dinner for immediate family only and went to live with Theresa until they could get someplace of their own.  Theo worked as a tailor, and Erna eventually got a job in a factory, which she stayed at for 31 years.

Erna and Theo finally got their own place, which was a two-room apartment, and later saved enough to buy a two-story house.  During the depression, however, they found they couldn’t pay the mortgage, so they lost the house, which, Erna says, broke Theo’s heart.  Erna says they had “a nice life together,” but that Theo “never really go over” losing the house.  In fact, she believes that it contributed to his early death at age fifty in 1950.  Apparently, he went to sleep one night and never woke up.  They had been together for twenty-seven years and had three children: Sarah, Ruth, and Paul.  Theo lived to see both daughters married, but died during Paul’s engagement.

Erna continued working, even after Theo’s death, supporting herself and helping with her grandchildren.  She was an extremely hard worker, never taking time for herself or any hobbies, except for dancing.  She loved music and continued to go to dance halls until she was seventy-five years old, at which point, she says, her legs “finally gave out.”  She never traveled, except for her one-time trip from Austria/Czechoslovakia to Chicago.  After that, she says, she “never once stepped foot out of Chicago.”

In her later years, unfortunately, more sadness occurred for Erna.  Her daughter, Sarah, became ill, and Erna spent the last fifteen years of Sarah’s life going to hospitals to visit her whenever she had to be admitted and helping Sarah’s husband and children when she was at home.  Not only was this difficult to deal with over the years, but then one of Sarah’s son’s, Vincent, committed suicide, leaving behind two children and his wife, who was eight months pregnant at the time.  Erna says that Vincent died in a car accident of sorts, that he was in a closed garage and died of “fumes,” though she doesn’t equate his death with suicide.  Whether she cannot face the truth or was never really told the truth, is unclear.  Not long after that, Sarah died, too, as well as her daughter, Ruth’s, husband.

Despite all of this loss and tragedy, Erna does not seem bitter or depressed.  She often says, “What can we do?”  With Sarah gone and Paul living in Florida, it was Ruth that had been primarily looking after Erna, but now with her husband’s recent death, she can no longer cope with caring for Erna, too.  Erna was apparently accepting of the decision to go to a nursing home and says, “I’m happy with this place.  It’s clean.”  She is also somewhat familiar with the facility as she was a frequent participant in the home’s annual Memorial Day picnic, in which the community at large was invited to attend.  She is very proud of the fact that she has learned her way around the facility so quickly, though she says of the staff, “They think I’m dumb, but I’m not dumb.  I’m just old.”

Erna seems to be adjusting well, though occasionally she seems reflective.  “I don’t have anybody, only my daughter, and I wanted to be with people, so I came here.  I’ve had a hard life, but you have to take care of yourself.  You can’t depend on anyone.”

(Originally written: May 1996)

The post “I Wanted to Be With People” appeared first on Michelle Cox.

“Be Content With What You Have”

Estelle Oberst was born in Chicago on October 20, 1900.  Her father, Edwin Larsen, was an immigrant from Norway, and her mother, Theresa Amsel, was an immigrant from Germany.  Estelle says that they met after they arrived in Chicago, but she does not remember where her father worked.  She thinks it may have been in a factory.  Her mother cared for their eight children, all of whom made it to adulthood except one, Ludmilla, who died of the flu epidemic.  At age 94, Estelle is the only member of her family still alive.

Estelle attended two years of high school and then quit to begin working as a punch press operator at Sunbeam.  When she was nineteen, a new foreman started at work, Joseph Oberst, who took an immediate liking to Estelle.  Estelle was not interested in him, but he continued to pester her until she finally agreed to go on a date with him.  She was apparently not impressed, but Joseph continued to pressure her to go out with him, which Estelle would reluctantly do from time to time.  Her friends were surprised, then, when one day she said she was going to marry him.  As soon as they were married, Joseph demanded that she stay home to be a housewife, which Estelle agreed to.  She had two children, Charles and Joseph, Jr., whose birth she almost died during because he was so large.  Estelle’s marriage to Joseph was apparently an unhappy one, and she describes Joseph as “a miserable man.”  Still, she tried to create a nice home for her boys.

Besides caring for her children, Estelle was devoted to her church, First Congregational, and is currently the oldest living member.  She was very, very active there her whole life and held a variety of volunteer positions, including sitting on the board of many committees.  She also ran craft bazaars, bake sales, was part of the sewing circle and cooked and cared for many of the sick and elderly in the parish.  In fact, many, many elderly were able to stay in their homes a few extra years because of Estelle.  Estelle even took in her mother-in-law, Margaret, though she was a very angry, bitter woman.  None of Margaret’s other children wanted anything to do with her, so Estelle offered their home to her and cared for her until she died.

Estelle spent most of her life devoted to caring for others, but in her seventies, she began experiencing her own series of losses.  The first was the death of her son, Joseph, Jr., who died suddenly at age 48 in 1976.  He had never married.  Then, a year later, her husband, Joseph, died, followed by her other son, Charles, who had left behind a wife, Virginia, but no children.  So in the span of two years, she lost her husband and both sons – her entire family, except her daughter-in-law.  It was a very difficult time for Estelle, but she continued to have a positive attitude even still.

In the subsequent years, she began to rely a lot on Virginia, who has likewise become very devoted to Estelle and is very protective of her.  She describes Estelle as being “a tough woman with a very strong will to live and a very positive attitude toward life.”  Estelle, she says, would do anything for anyone and “has a heart of gold.”  Virginia says that Estelle would never go to someone’s house without bringing them something, usually something she baked or sewed.  She says she dealt with her many losses in life, including her horrible marriage, by constantly reaching out to others.  If she was experiencing something sad, she would seek out someone worse off than herself and try to comfort them.

Estelle was still very active (and drove herself everywhere!) up until the age of eighty-eight when she fell and broke her hip.  She was able to go home eventually, but she continued to repeatedly fall for the next four years and ended up in the hospital again in 1992 after a particularly bad one.  Though Virginia had been helping her for several years with cleaning and errands, she did not feel she could care for Estelle full-time as she herself is in her seventies now with her own health problems, including a bad back.  Neither of them could afford the kind of home health care Estelle would need, so it was decided that she should be released to a nursing home.

Estelle was not happy about her placement, and believes that she will someday return home.  She is a very agreeable, sweet person, but is very hard of hearing.  This, plus the fact that her attention span and memory are poor, makes it hard for her to participate in activities or befriend other residents.  She enjoys one-on-one attention from the staff, however, and will converse as much as she is able.  Meanwhile, Virginia tries to visit as often as she can.

When asked about her life, Estelle says that is was a happy one, though she still misses her boys.  When asked what her secret to happiness is, she says that it was her faith and that you have to “be content with what you have.  There’s always someone worse off than you that can use a hand.”

(originally written: May 1995)

 

The post “Be Content With What You Have” appeared first on Michelle Cox.

The Classic “High-Society” Man

Carl Nilsson was born on January 24, 1937 in Chicago to Nils Nilsson and Brita Lindgren. Not much is known about Carl’s early life or his parents, except for a few facts, namely that they were immigrants from Sweden and that Nils worked as a tool and die maker once he got to Chicago.  Carl describes his father as a workaholic.  His mother, he says, was primarily a housewife, but worked occasionally as a waitress for the private parties of the Kemper Insurance Company.  Carl was their only child.

Carl attended college for three years and then got a job working in personnel at a paint factory.  Over the years, he worked his way up the corporate ladder until he became vice president of the company when he was around forty years old.  He was apparently a very fashionable, successful executive who loved to party.  He married a woman named Judy Breitbach and had one child with her, Patricia.

As Carl climbed the corporate ladder, his lifestyle became more and more lavish.  He bought a big house in Park Ridge and filled it with expensive, custom-made furniture.  He had “liquid lunches,” big parties, closed the bars down at night and belonged to the country club.  He was the classic “high-society” man and belonged to many different community organizations, such as the Elks and the Moose.  He was also a member of a Swedish choral group and sat on the board of directors at the Swedish Museum, among many others.

Carl’s extravagant lifestyle all came crashing down, however, when the company filed for bankruptcy and Carl lost his job.  Though he tried for a while to find a comparable positon in another company, he wasn’t successful, partly perhaps because he was thrown into a depression.  He grieved for his lost job and what he saw as his place in society and slowly began to withdraw.  His participation in his many community organizations dwindled, and his marriage to Judy began to fall apart.  He began drinking even more than he had before, until Judy eventually divorced him, taking Patricia and moving to Texas with her.  This was the last crushing blow for Carl.

He eventually had to sell the house and moved into a “trashy” apartment where he further “drank his life away” and developed diabetes.  He remained in denial about his diagnosis, however, and did not treat it and ended up having to have one leg amputated.  He was working for Carson, Pirie, Scott at the time but eventually lost that job as well when he had to have the other leg amputated, too.  Completely handicapped now, he went on full disability, though he continued to make some money “under the table” by occasionally working for a travel agent.

It was after his second amputation that he had to spend some time in a physical rehabilitation center to learn how to care for himself now that he was a double amputee.  At the rehab center, Carl had the good fortune of meeting and becoming friends with a man named Steve Hinkel.  Steve was a volunteer at the center who often came to give motivational talks and workshops for both patients and doctors based on his own life experience.  He himself had been in a serious car accident when he was twenty-eight years old and had almost froze to death.  He lived through the ordeal, but he lost his hands and feet as a result.  His recovery from the accident, however, was amazingly quick, which he still attributes to his positive attitude.

Carl was instantly attracted to Steve’s positivity and became very attached to him.  Steve spent many hours talking with Carl while in the rehab center and even helped him get settled back into his apartment once he was released.  Steve continued to visit and follow up with Carl, who was still abusing his body by eating anything he wanted and by still consuming large quantities of alcohol.  Often Carl would ask Steve to take him out to lunch, where he would proceed to order drinks, though Steve cautioned him otherwise.  “Oh, a little nip once in a while won’t hurt me,” Carl would say.  If Steve pressed him to stop, however, Carl would argue, “What does it matter?  I’m going to die anyway.”

Steve describes Carl’s apartment as “dirty and run-down” and perpetually looking like “it was ready for Halloween with an orphanage next door” in terms of how many cakes and sweets littered it, as well as bottles of liquor and trash.  Amongst all the rubbish, however, was a little “shrine” that Carl had erected to his daughter, Patricia.  Though his wife had full custody over the years of Patricia, Judy allowed her to spend the summers in Chicago with her father, which Steve guesses was the only thing that kept Carl going for years.  Indeed, the only “décor” in the apartment consisted of photographs and clippings of Patricia and her many accomplishments.

At one point, worried about her father, Patricia even transferred to DePaul for her junior year of college so that she could be closer to him.  It proved to be too much for her to handle emotionally, however, and she eventually returned to Texas.  She still maintained contact with him, however, as the years went on, calling him weekly and occasionally coming up to visit.  Patricia is married now and still living in Texas, but she has flown up several times during Carl’s various hospitalizations.  She has also been able to meet Steve and has thanked him for helping her dad and for keeping her updated on his situation.

Carl’s condition worsened recently when he began experiencing “weird spells” and was again hospitalized with heart and lung problems.  He was also diagnosed with kidney failure and potentially prostate cancer, though it was inoperable because of his bad heart.  At the hospital, he was counseled about changing his bad habits, but he threw many tantrums in which he demanded milk and cheese to be given to him, as the proper food for a Swede.  After this extended stint in the hospital, Carl was eventually allowed to go home with the help of home health care, but it only lasted a couple of months before he ended up in the hospital again.  This time, Steve, with Patricia’s long-distance help, was able to help get him admitted to a nursing home.

Carl’s physical health has stabilized since his admission to the home, but he is very confused and distraught and is not adjusting well.  He seems to have lost the will to live, and remains belligerent and temperamental.  He fights with the staff when they attempt to get him out of bed, saying that it is “cruel,” and that “you’re all the same!” or “no one cares!”  Similarly, he continues to throw tantrums in which he demands milk and cheese three times a day, against the dietician’s advice.

Besides these outbursts, however, he remains despondent and depressed most of the time, even when Steve comes to visit.  It is very difficult to have a conversation with him as he frequently “drifts off” mid-sentence and never gets back to his original thought, even when prompted.  He continues to ask for Patricia and begs to be allowed to die.  Steve continues to visit, despite his own handicaps, and tries to encourage him to participate in the life of the home for the time he has left.

Originally written: January 1996

The post The Classic “High-Society” Man appeared first on Michelle Cox.

“She Could Make a Stick Grow”

Doris Gockel was born on March 15, 1934 in Chicago.  Not much is known of Doris’s early life, except that her mother, Gertrude Molnar, who was of Hungarian descent, had Doris when she was very young.  About a year after Doris was born, Gertrude married a man named Walter Sands, who was not Doris’s birthfather, but who came to love Doris as his own child.  Gertrude and Walter never had any children together, so Doris was everything to them.

Doris went to school until the tenth grade and then quit to begin working.  Over the years she had a variety of jobs, though she says that her job at an ice cream parlor was her favorite.  Doris did not go out much, preferring to be at home with Gertrude and Walter, but her friends persuaded her one night near her birthday to come to the St. Patrick’s Night Ball at the Merry Garden Ballroom.  After much urging on the part of her friends, Doris finally agreed to go, and it was there that she met a boy named Willie Gockel.  The two started dating and married very quickly.  Doris was just seventeen, and Willie was eighteen.  Willie worked as a plasterer, then as a carpenter, and eventually had his own little contracting business, while Doris stayed home and cared for their three children: Linda, Susan and David.

Doris says that “everything was fine in a way” between her and Willie, but after about twenty years together, she says that Willie started “drinking and going out with the guys.”  Eventually he “ran away with some woman.”  Doris’s son, David, does not know all of the details of went wrong in his parents’ marriage, but confirms that his father left when he was around twelve years old.  Doris had no choice but to find a job, then, and began working as a barmaid at Lakeside Tavern.  Doris worked there for over thirteen years and made a lot of friends, many of whom became like a family to her.  It was during that time, though, that Doris began to drink a lot, which, says David, was perhaps just part of the job.

Despite her drinking and her seedy job at the bar, David says that Doris loved decorating and fixing things up around the house.  She had a talent for decorating and had the further talent of being able to do it “on hardly any money at all.”  Her favorite thing to do was to go to yard and garage sales with her mother, Gertrude, to find things they could refurbish.  They also both shared a love of gardening, particularly of flowers.  Doris, says David, could “make a stick grow.”  Doris and Gertrude remained very close over the years and were more like best friends than mother and daughter.

Unfortunately, in the early 1980’s, Doris suffered a brain aneurysm and was hospitalized for a very long period of time.  According to David, she nearly died on three occasions, each time having to be revived by the staff.  Doris made it through, but it was a long recovery, during which time she had to relearn everything.  Eventually Doris was able to go home and live independently, though her vision and equilibrium were not perfect, and, according to David, she has never been the same mentally.  She has always been just “a little bit off” since the whole ordeal, prompting David and his wife, Sharon, to get into the habit of checking on her several times a week in order to help her with various tasks.

Doris was able to manage this way for the next ten years or so until the early 1990’s when her daughter, Susan, separated from her alcoholic husband and went to live with Doris to “take care of her.”  David and Sharon think that this was the beginning of the end for Doris, as Doris then became subjected to what they call Susan’s “bad influence.”  Ever since the aneurysm, Doris had given up drinking, but when Susan came back to live with her, she started up again.  Likewise, David and Sharon believe that Susan, who they say is herself unstable, was probably not providing Doris with balanced meals or regulating her medication correctly.  Susan became very protective of Doris during this time and was resentful if David or Sharon tried to still help, claiming that it wasn’t necessary and that they were “interfering.”

Things went from bad to worse when Susan came home one day and found Doris out in the yard, unconscious.  It is not known how long she had been laying there, but the doctors concluded that she had had a stroke.  When she eventually recovered in the hospital enough to be released, David and Sharon thought it obvious that she should go to a nursing home, but Susan disagreed.  David attempted to call his other sister, Linda, to get her involved, but she had been estranged from the family for a long time and refused to have any part of it.  Therefore, it was David against Susan, and despite David’s protests, Susan was eventually able to persuade the doctors to allow her to take Doris home with her again.

This arrangement, however, tragically only lasted about two months.  Two days before Christmas, 1995, Susan dropped Doris off at the emergency room of Swedish Covenant Hospital and took off, apparently reunited with her estranged, alcoholic husband.  From that point, David took control and arranged for Doris to be released to a nursing home.

Recently admitted, Doris seems to be adjusting well to her new surroundings, though she is confused much of the time and sometimes believes she is seeing various family members on television when she sits watching it.  She is able to converse with other residents, though she seems to have a hard time focusing and has to concentrate to speak.  She attends activities, but does not always participate unless helped by a staff member or a volunteer.  David tries to visit as often as he can, but he is also burdened with having to manage the care of his grandmother, Gertrude, who is still alive in a different nursing home.  This, plus having to deal with Susan’s erratic behavior and unreasonable demands from time to time, make it difficult for David to always come to see Doris as much as he might like to.

Doris, for her part, says she would rather be home, but understands that she cannot live alone.

Originally written January 1996

The post “She Could Make a Stick Grow” appeared first on Michelle Cox.

“Only Hussies Ask Boys to Dance!”

(Part 2 of the Adele and Karel story)

Karel’s Story . . .

Karel Bartos was born on May 7, 1908 in Chicago to Ambrose Bartos and Gabriela Adamik.  Ambrose and Gabriela met and married in what is now Czechoslovakia and began their family there.  Ambrose was a shoemaker, and Gabriela cared for their seven children.  Otto, Denis, Honza and Jan were born in Czechoslovakia, though Honza died shortly after birth.  The rest of the children: Karel, Hanna and Kamila were born in Chicago after the family immigrated there in 1914.  Jan died at age fourteen of the flu epidemic, and Karel almost followed when he contracted diphtheria at age seven.  Karel lived, but he was always weak, thin and sickly after that.

Because he was ill for such a long time, Karel did not start school until he was eight.  He was bright, though, and eventually skipped two grades to catch up to where he should have been.  Karel was interested in sports, particularly baseball, as he was too skinny for football, but also enjoyed reading and putting together model airplanes.  He was so good at making them, in fact, that by the time he was in high school, he and a friend had begun building real, small airplanes from scrap that actually flew.  Eventually they decided to build one to sell and began to advertise it.   “Some farm kid in Michigan” offered to trade them two motorcycles—a Harley and an Indian—for it, which Karel and his friend willingly accepted.  They spent the summer riding around on the motorcycles, but continued to build and fly planes, dreaming of being pilots someday and traveling the world.

Ambrose, however, had other ideas for Karel.  For one thing, he saw flying airplanes as an expensive, silly past time, not a real career path forward.  Ambrose still worked as a shoemaker and owned his own little shop on the city’s northwest side.  He insisted that Karel finish high school, which he did, though he had to work full time, as well, to help support the family.  When he graduated, Karel then went on to business college, at Ambrose’s insistence, to learn accounting.  In the meantime, he got a job working for his brother, Denis, at the Continental and Commercial Bank downtown Chicago.

It was at the bank that he first met his future wife, Adele Janicek, in passing, when Denis stopped to talk to Adele’s friend, Martha.  Karel was painfully shy and struggled to talk to anyone, much less girls.  His siblings thought he was a lost cause when it came to love and romance and never expected him to marry at all.  His mother, however, had not given up hope and thought that if he could just meet the right sort of girl, Karel would come out of his shell.

So when Gabriela noticed Adele Janicek at various functions in the neighborhood, her interest was piqued.  Adele was bright and determined and funny and talkative and always seemed to be in the middle of things.  She seemed the perfect girl for her Karel, if only she could think of a way to get him to talk to her.

As it happened, one night at a neighborhood dance, Gabriela saw her chance.  She was thrilled when she noticed Adele talking with a friend of Karel’s, John Wesley.  Gabriela pulled John aside as soon as she found him alone and begged him to ask Adele to ask Karel to dance.  John told her that he did not think Adele would agree to that, but Gabriela urged him to try.  She was delighted, then, when, a little bit later, she saw John and Adele approach Karel.

She was horrified, however, when Karel loudly rejected Adele’s offer to dance.  Humiliated, she pushed him out onto the floor with Adele.   Later, at home, Gabriela scolded him.

“But only hussies ask boys to dance!” Karel exclaimed and truly thought she would have been proud of him for rejecting an obviously loose woman.  Gabriela was forced to explain that she had put John and Adele up to it, which then embarrassed Karel all the more.  Gabriela continued to push Karel to ask Adele out, however, so that one day when he saw Adele at another dance—and tired of his mother’s nagging—he asked Adele if he could walk her home.  She replied that no, she was walking home with John Wesley, but promised Karel that he could walk her home the next time.  Adele kept her promise, and to his surprise, Karel found on the walk home, that he actually liked Adele.  He shyly asked her out again, and then began to court her in earnest.

When he proposed to her a few months later, everyone was stunned that Adele—forward and driven and outgoing and popular—would accept the weak, shy, quiet Karel.  Adele never explained herself to anyone, but chose Karel just the same.  As it turned out, it was the beginning of a beautiful life together, though, like any, not without its share of troubles.

The year before Karel and Adele got married, not only did the stock market crash, but Adele’s father, Daniel, passed away at age forty-seven.  His health had been bad for many years from working in the foundry, and eventually his heart just gave out.  When Karel and Adele got married, then, they decided out of practicality to move in with her mother and her three brothers, all of whom were still at home.  Thousands of people at the time were losing their jobs, especially in banks.  Women were the first to be fired, as it was common thinking that their husbands or fathers would provide for them.

At the Continental and Commercial bank, however, such was not the case with Adele.  She was naturally very fearful of losing her job, but Miss Kate Williams and indeed many of the bank officers really liked her.  They also knew that not only Karel but all three of her brothers had lost their jobs and that she was the sole provider of the family.  Thus, they kept her on.  Karel and his brother, Denis, had left the bank the year before and were both working at an accounting firm when the market crashed and were both subsequently fired.  Karel had been trying to finish his accounting degree by taking classes at night and continued to do so while he looked for another job.  None was forthcoming, however.

Things continued this way for a long time with Adele providing for all of them.  Officially, she worked in the statistics department at Continental, but she made it a point to help out as much as she could in every department.  She was constantly doing people favors.  It seemed to pay off, however, because not only did she manage to hold on to her job, but one day, one of the officers in the statistics department for whom she was taking dictation, kindly asked if Karel had yet found a job.  When she said no, he told her he knew of an accounting position at Northern Illinois Coal Company that was coming open and that he would set up an interview the following week for Karel if he was interested.  Adele was thrilled with this news, but when the officer told her later which day had been set up for the interview, she was crushed when she found out it was the same day Karel was scheduled to take the CPA exam.  She dreaded telling the officer that Karel would not be able to interview, but when she did, he did some checking for her, and Northern Illinois agreed to see him the following week instead.  When Karel did go in to interview with them, they were apparently impressed because he was offered the job immediately.

Things then began to look up for Adele and Karel.  Her three brothers moved out of the house, having all gotten married themselves, leaving just Adele, Karel, and Renata in the original house that Daniel and Renata had purchased years ago.  Before long, they decided to sell the house and buy a new one in Cicero.  Just as the sale was going through, however, Northern Illinois Coal Company was bought out by a company in Kansas.  The new company offered to relocate Karel and Adele, but Karel did not have a good feeling about it.  He was afraid they would move to Kansas and then he might eventually be let go, so he resigned.

Karel thus started the job search process all over again and began to look through the classifieds.  He was excited to come upon an ad for an accountant with United Airlines and applied.  Adele, for her part, promptly went to the bank officers at Continental and informed them that Karel was applying for a job at United, which happened to be a major client at the bank.  A few calls were then made to United, and Karel not only got an interview, but the job.

It was a dream come true for Karel to combine his job with his love of planes and his desire to see the world.  It was then that Karel and Adele’s travels began.  Because they could now get free tickets, they traveled all over the United States and the world any chance they got.  They went to Europe at least ten times and often flew to New York just for the weekend to see the opera or the ballet, Adele’s own childhood dream fulfilled from the days of her friendship with Maria.

In 1945, things were going so well for Adele and Karel that Karel decided they should build a brand new house in Riverside.  Adele was very against the idea, however, as she didn’t see the point in it.  They had a nice house in Cicero, and she had no desire to move.  Karel was determined, though, and Adele listened, as he so rarely had a strong opinion about anything.  Finally, she gave in to Karel’s wish for two reasons.  One, he had put up with her mother all those years, which had not always been easy, and Adele was grateful to him for it.  Second, they had saved enough money that they wouldn’t need to get a mortgage, so in the end, they paid $32,000 in cash and built the new home.  They lived there for forty years and retired in their sixties.  Adele had worked at Continental for over forty years.  On their 60th wedding anniversary, they flew to Europe and returned on the Concorde.

Even in their retirement, both Karel and Adele continued with social events and travel, but, Adele says, “old age has not been kind to us.”  In the early 1990’s, Adele began to notice that Karel’s memory was becoming worse and worse and finally took him to a doctor, where he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.  Adele became very depressed about their prospects and had no one to turn to for help.  They had never had children because, says Adele, “We were too busy living life!”  All of Karel’s siblings had already died, as had all of Adele’s, except Emil.  Adele thought that perhaps they should sell the house and move into an apartment, but Karel adamantly refused.  His choice was to move into a Czech nursing home, where they could be cared for properly as they aged.  Adele was reluctant to do this, but in the end agreed with what Karel wanted, as she knew it was probably his last sane request.

And so in 1992, Karel and Adele moved into a Czech nursing home in Chicago.  Because of their long involvement in the community and a perhaps because of a large donation to the nursing home, they secured a large double room which overlooked the gardens and were allowed to bring as much of their own furniture from their home as would fit into their new space.  As a result, their room resembles a tiny version of their home in Riverside, not that of an institution.

Adele, though she has her own health problems, is very involved in the nursing home and very devoted still to Karel, who sits patiently in a wheelchair, dressed impeccably each day by Adele, with his eyes closed.  When roused, he gives a gentle answer, usually nonsensical, to whatever is asked and then closes his eyes again.  Adele spends her days reading, sewing, writing letters, making telephone calls, and pushing Karel through the home, taking him to various activities with her.  There is a part of Adele that seems a little sad, but she continually focuses on the positive. They make an interesting sight—Adele leading or pushing Karel through the halls—perhaps mirroring what their life together was in more ways than one.

On August 30, 1995, Adele and Karel celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary at the nursing home, with nephews, nieces, a few friends and the staff surrounding them and wishing them well.  For better or worse, they are a lovely example of taking life’s “lemons” and making lemonade.

(Originally written September 1995)

The post “Only Hussies Ask Boys to Dance!” appeared first on Michelle Cox.

“What A Lemon – Revised!”

(This is a longer version of a story posted in this blog on August 13, 2015.  It is the love and life stories of Adele and Karel Bartos, to be told in two parts. Happy Holidays!  Hope you enjoy this special double-feature!)

Adele’s story…

Adele Bartos was born on September 19, 1907 in Czechoslovakia to Daniel Janicek and Renata Benes.  It is not known what type of work Daniel did in the old country, but sometime in 1911, he set off for America to find a new life and a new job.  He left Renata behind with their three children: Adele, David, and Edward, and made his way to Chicago, where he got a job in a foundry as a molder.  He made the forms which the hot steel or iron was poured into to make auto parts and wheels.  Daniel worked constantly, and in one year had saved enough to send for Renata and the children.  They boarded a ship in Bremen, Germany and arrived in America twelve days later.  They then took a train from New York to Chicago, where Daniel was waiting for them.

The train journey took seventeen hours, and though Adele was only five years old, she vividly remembers that it was on that trip that she had her first encounter with a banana.  On the train, a man walked by with a big basket of fruit.  Spying Adele, he handed her a banana.  Adele waited for the man to pass by before attempting to eat her treat.  Not knowing that she had to peel it, she naively bit into the whole thing and quickly decided she didn’t like it.  She set it on the window sill of the train, where it sat all day in the sun.  Later, hungry, she decided to give it another try.  This time, a fellow passenger advised her to peel it first.  But by now, the banana was all mushy, and after another bite, Adele concluded that she didn’t like this strange new food and refused to try a banana again for years!

It just so happened that when the Janiceks arrived in Chicago, it was July 3, 1912, and the city was celebrating Independence Day with fireworks and festivities.  Adele’s family was amazed by it all and managed to ask someone what it was all about.  “That’s how we always greet visitors!” was the reply, and for a long time Adele and her brothers believed it.  Though they missed their home at first, they were in awe of their new country.

In the fall of that year, Daniel and Renata enrolled the children in a Catholic school where the nuns taught in Czech and English.  It didn’t take long for Adele to become fluent in English.  Another baby, Emil, was eventually born to the family, of which Daniel was extremely proud, as this child, he said, was a “real American.”

By the time Adele was going into fourth grade, all the neighborhood children were talking about a new public school that was going to open near them: Chopin Grammar School.  Adele’s neighborhood, which was just south of Humboldt Park and Wicker Park, near the Ukrainian Village, was made up of Czechs, Poles and Ukrainians.  All of the neighborhood children wanted to go to this new school.  Adele asked her parents if they, too, might be allowed to go.   Daniel was willing to let them change schools, as, for one thing, it would be free, as opposed to the Catholic School they were attending, but he was reluctant for them to stop being exposed to the Czech culture they were getting at the Catholic school.  His condition, then, to allowing all of them attend Chopin, was that they had to continue to go to “Czech school” on weekends to continue learning to read and write in Czech as well as to learn the history and culture of their native country.  They were also enrolled in Sokol, which was a Czech physical education/gymnastics organization that provided physical exercise to balance the exercise of the mind.  Many Czech immigrant children in Chicago belonged to Sokol.  So every Sunday from 9 am to 12 pm, the Janicek children attended Czech school, and during the week they attended Chopin.

Adele was very smart and studied hard and was the salutatorian of her 8th grade class.  While at Chopin, Adele met many different children of different nationalities, a fact which Adele loved.  In particular, she met an Italian girl, Maria, who became her best friend and whom Adele was very much influenced by.

While Adele was the oldest in her family, Maria was the youngest.  She had many older siblings who were all intellectual and who greatly influenced and guided Adele and Maria.  Through Maria, Adele learned about opera and theater and classical music and literature.  The girls were always at the library, and Adele read constantly.  A whole new world opened to her through reading and by knowing Maria’s family, and she longed to go to high school to become a teacher.  Without even asking, however, Adele knew this to be “a ridiculous dream” as they were “as poor as church mice.”  Renata could see how much Adele wanted to go on for more schooling and felt bad for her only daughter.  She persuaded Daniel to let her continue, and they then told Adele that she could go for two more years so that she could learn some sort of trade.  “That way,” Renata told Adele, “you won’t have to work as hard as I do.”

Adele was delighted with this decision and was put into a vocational program at the local high school.  She was offered stenography or bookkeeping, and since she hated math, she chose stenography.  The day after her graduation from the trade school, she and some girls from school went to an employment agency to find work.  The very next day, Adele was sent on an interview and got a job at the Wearproof Clothing Company on Wells Street as a stenographer.  She started at $15 a week, but soon got a raise to $17.  She enjoyed her co-workers and her boss, Mr. Belden, but after a while, she wasn’t challenged anymore, especially as the job required more typing, of which she wasn’t fond, than stenography.

Adele happened to mention her unhappy situation to a friend, Bea, who in turn told her older sister, Martha, about it.  Martha worked in the statistics department of the Continental and Commercial National Bank and Trust Company, which was situated on LaSalle St., 19th floor.  Martha was able to get Adele an interview for a stenographer position with a Miss Kate Williams.  Adele was excited to be going to such an elegant building downtown and all the way up to the 19th floor to boot!

During the interview, Miss Kate Williams asked Adele just one question: “Miss Janicek, do you know the difference between a stock and a bond?”  Adele took just a moment to think and answered, “I don’t today, but I can learn tomorrow!”  Miss Williams liked her answer so much that she hired Adele on the spot.  Adele, needless to say, was thrilled.

Adele considered it a great privilege and a real step up to work in a bank; it was so elegant, and she was surrounded by so many educated people.  Adele started immediately and loved it.  One afternoon, Adele and Martha happened to be passing through the lobby of the bank on their way to lunch, when Martha bumped into a young man she knew, Denis Bartos, from the accounting department, who was with his younger brother, Karel.  It was obvious that Martha and Denis liked each other, so Adele and Karel politely withdrew and, after initial introductions, stood awkwardly next to each other waiting for Martha and Denis.  Neither had much to say to each other besides small pleasantries.  After what seemed an eternity, Martha excused herself from Denis’s company and the two girls went on their way.

Adele meanwhile threw herself into her work and spent most of her evenings at the library.  She was still very involved in Sokol and sat on many committees and also helped organize all sorts of social events in the neighborhood, including dances and plays.

It was at one such dance that a friend of hers, John Wesley, approached and asked if she knew the Bartos family, pointing to where they stood off in one of the corners.  Adele indeed recognized Mr. Bartos, who was a local amateur actor and with whom Adele had actually been in some neighborhood plays.  Encouraged, John asked if he might do him a favor in regards to the Bartos family.  Intrigued, Adele asked what that would be.  John explained that he was also a friend of the family and that earlier in the night, Mrs. Bartos had pulled him aside and asked if he might ask Adele to ask her son to dance.  Adele was flabbergasted at John’s request.  It was unheard of for a girl to ask a boy to dance!

John explained that the youngest Bartos brother was very shy and that his mother had pleaded with John to ask Adele, whom she saw as being bright and pretty and full of energy.  Adele refused, but John begged her, so, in the end, she agreed, but only for one dance!

Accordingly, John led her over to the Bartos family, whereupon Adele instantly recognized the shy, youngest Bartos brother as Karel Bartos, the boy she had met several months ago in the bank lobby and whom she had awkwardly stood next to.  She dreaded having to spend a whole dance with him, but she resolved to keep her promise to John and asked Karel as politely as she could if he would care to dance.

His reply was a very shocking and loud, “No!” causing his mother and sisters to gasp aloud at his rudeness.  His sisters promptly pushed him onto the dance floor with Adele.  Humiliated, Adele went through with the dance, though the whole time she was thinking, “What a lemon!”   He wasn’t even a good dancer!  When the dance ended, the two of them quickly went their separate ways.

About a month later, Adele and Karel saw each other again at another dance in the neighborhood.  This time, Karel approached Adele and managed to ask her if he could walk her home.  “Oh!” Adele answered, surprised.  “I’m already walking home with John and some of the girls.”  She didn’t wish to be unkind to Karel, knowing ultimately how shy he was, but she likewise didn’t want to be rude to John.  He had brought her to the dance, after all, and she felt obliged to leave with him.

“Maybe the next dance, then?” Karel stammered.  “Maybe I could take you home from that one?”

Adele agreed, and, as promised, went to the next dance accompanied by Karel.  As it turned out, it was the beginning of their courtship, and they were married six months later on August 30, 1930.

(To be continued . . . next week!)

 

 

 

The post “What A Lemon – Revised!” appeared first on Michelle Cox.

Her Slow Decline Into Homelessness, Though She Had a “Good Job”

Theresa Svoboda was born on March 23, 1911 in Chicago to Frank and Simona Svoboda, both of whom were immigrants from Czechoslovakia.  According to Theresa, her father came to the United States looking for work and found a job right away, which he considered lucky, as jobs were scarce.  He began working as a sort of blacksmith and did ornamental work with iron.  He made beautiful and intricately-detailed iron fences.  Having gotten a job, he immediately sent for Simona to join him.  Together they had two children, Theresa and Bernard.

Theresa went to school through the eighth grade and attended one year of high school before she quit.  She claims that there was “too much fooling around,” so she enrolled in a business college instead.  When she graduated, she began working in an office and stayed there for eleven and a half years.  After that she moved from office to office over the years and says that she enjoyed all of her jobs.

Theresa never married.  She says that she had some nice boyfriends, but none of them stood out as being really special and she didn’t want to get married just to be married.  Besides that, she didn’t want to leave her parents “in the lurch,” especially because the economy was so bad.  She felt that it was her duty, since she had a good job in an office, to stay and help support them.  Theresa lived with her parents in their two-flat on Christina Avenue until 1955, when her parents both died within six weeks of each other.  Her father died of a “bad toe.”  Apparently it got infected somehow and turned “dark as a plum,” and he eventually died.  Simona died six weeks later, though Theresa is not sure of what.  Five years after that, her brother Bernard died as well.

Not much else of Theresa Svoboda is known.  What happened from that moment in 1960 when her brother died to her present admission to a nursing home is not entirely clear.  Apparently, she continued to live in the two-flat on her own, but as the neighborhood got worse and worse, Theresa became more and more reclusive.  She was robbed at least twice, and the first floor apartment was left empty and was eventually gutted, presumably by neighborhood gangs.

About five years ago, in 1989, Theresa suffered from frost-bite and had to have several toes amputated as a result.  The story made the papers, and a woman, Sissie Novak, after reading the article, decided to take action.  She began a correspondence with Theresa and sent her many packages with clothes, blankets, food and personal items.

Recently, however, Sissie stopped receiving letters from Theresa, which worried her.  Theresa was not in the habit of writing often to Sissie, but she would usually send a note after receiving a package.  When the notes stopped coming, Sissie sent a postcard, urging Theresa to respond to let her know she was okay, as Sissie had no other way of contacting Theresa, who did not have a telephone.  When she did not hear from Theresa, Sissie finally decided to call the police.  When the police arrived at her building, Theresa at first refused to open the door, fearing a trick.  The police then urged her to go to the window and look out, where she could see their squad car, uniforms and badges.  Reluctantly, then, she opened the door.

The police discovered that she was living there with no heat and no utilities and that her only source of food was apparently a nearby McDonalds.  Her legs were severely frost bit, and she could barely walk.  The officers attempted to get her to leave with them, but she refused.  They reported their findings to Sissie, who, because of her own health issues, could not drive into the city to aid Theresa herself.  Sissie continued to call the police, begging them to go check on Theresa.  Finally, one officer took it upon himself to try to help Theresa.  He went back to the apartment and managed to coax her out and then drove her to Methodist Hospital, where she had to have both legs removed.

Sissie stayed in contact with the hospital and urged them to discharge her to a Czech nursing home where she hoped she would get not only a warm bed and good food, but a fellow community she might be able to relate to.

As soon as Sissie was physically able to drive to the city, she met up with the officer who had taken Theresa to the hospital, and the two of them went to the two-flat to see if there was anything salvageable or anything Theresa might want or need at the nursing home.  When Sissie arrived there, it was worse than she had ever imagined.  It was filthy, wretched and freezing.  Gang graffiti covered the inside walls, and it appeared to be little more than a wind break from the elements.  But what surprised Sissie the most, however, was that all of the packages she had sent over the years with food, blankets, clothing —even a space heater—were stacked up in the corner, unopened.

As for Theresa, she seems content with her current placement in the nursing home, though she has no affect.  Nothing seems to bring her either joy or sadness.  She expresses no concern or worry about anything at all, to the point of complete indifference.  Obviously, the grief and perhaps disorientation she experienced at the relatively sudden deaths of her family members left her unable to function in society, resulting in a debilitating depression and the slow decline into basic homelessness.  She says she doesn’t believe in planning ahead “because you never know what’s going to happen.”  She is simply existing.

(Originally written February 1994)

The post Her Slow Decline Into Homelessness, Though She Had a “Good Job” appeared first on Michelle Cox.

Still Grieving For Her Murdered Daughter

Loretta Coleman was born on April 22, 1936 in Louisiana to Frank Harris and Ruth Roberts.  Not much is known about Loretta’s parents, but she says that she and her three siblings had a good childhood and that they were raised in a very strict Baptist household.  Loretta graduated from high school and was then sent to live with relatives in Chicago, where she got a job as a cook in a cafeteria.

At some point, Loretta was introduced to Roy Coleman, who worked at a meat packing house.  They began dating and eventually married.  Once she began having children, Loretta quit her job at the cafeteria and stayed at home.  She and Roy had a total of seven children before they ended up divorcing.  Loretta was then forced to go back to work as a cook, so the children had to fend for themselves while she was gone.  Loretta says that she later learned that Roy had passed away, but she is not sure of what.  She says that they were close in the early days of their marriage but that they drifted apart as time went on, especially when he started to stay out late, going to bars and picking up other women.

While that period in her life was difficult to get through, her biggest tragedy was yet to come when her youngest daughter, Winnie, was killed at age twenty-four.  Loretta says that Winnie had had a baby, Marcus, out of wedlock but was estranged from the father.  She lived a quiet life at home with Loretta, which makes her murder all the harder to accept, she says, because “Winnie didn’t lead that kind of life.”  Loretta describes her as a quiet, good girl who worked two jobs to support herself and Marcus and who sang in their church choir.  She was “a very good person,” Mattie says and still cries about Winnie’s death, which occurred just two years ago.

For some reason, Mattie says, Winnie agreed to meet up with Marcus’s father one night and left Marcus, then just one year old, with Loretta for the evening.  When Winnie didn’t come home, Loretta called the police, who later found Winnie’s body in a hotel room, where she had been shot to death.  The police eventually picked up the boyfriend and held him for a time, but they did not have enough evidence to convict him.  In Loretta’s mind, however, he is guilty of murdering her Winnie.

Following Winnie’s death, the care of Marcus now fell on Loretta.  Though she loved him completely, she did not think she could raise another child, especially with her own health issues, so she decided to give Marcus to her younger sister, who was living in California.  Loretta says that it almost killed her to give up Marcus, since he was a part of Winnie, but she knew she couldn’t give the baby what he needed and that it was for the best.  After he was gone, Loretta then grieved for both Winnie and Marcus and describes how she woke up so many mornings following the tragedy feeling good, having forgotten all about it for just a split second, before the truth would come rushing back and depress her all over again.

Not only has Loretta had to deal with her own sense of loss, she has likewise been struggling to help her son, Daniel, to deal with Winnie’s death.  Daniel, who also still lives at home with Loretta, was very close to Winnie, and after her death, turned to alcohol to cope.  Loretta says that he is now an alcoholic and that all she can do is hope that someday he will turn himself around.  Immediately following Winnie’s death, Loretta sought the professional help of a counselor, which, she says, helped her immensely, as did prayer.  She continues to urge Daniel and all of her other children to seek help, as well, in coming to terms with Winnie’s death, but she has had varying degrees of success in getting them to go.

Loretta says she takes one day at a time.  She attempts to go on as best she can and tries to keep Winnie alive by remembering the funny things she did and the good times they had together.  She also tries as hard as she can to keep in touch with her grandson, Marcus, so that he will remember his family in Chicago, but it is difficult.

Recently, Loretta has had to have her toes on her right foot amputated and was thus admitted to a nursing home to recover.  Another of Loretta’s daughters, Paula, and Daniel visit her frequently and are anxious for her to come home.  Loretta does not open up easily and seems reluctant to share all of her story.  She is a very private person and does not interact much with the other residents, who are all significantly older than she.  She spends her day doing crossword puzzles, reading the Bible, talking on the phone or watching TV, biding her time until she can return to her home.  She is a calm, patient woman, who will answer questions politely, albeit briefly, when asked, but the staff sense a deep sadness and loss about her and can see her grief in her eyes.

Originally written March 1996

The post Still Grieving For Her Murdered Daughter appeared first on Michelle Cox.

The Amazing Life and Love of Jan Beranek!

Jan Beranek was born on December 21, 1909 in Slovakia to Kornel Beranek and Hedvika Klimy.  Jan’s father, Kornel, worked as a very successful tailor.  He had large accounts and employed six to eight men at any given time.  When the WWI broke out, however, Kornel was forced to dissolve his tailor shop to become a soldier.  He wasn’t away at the war for long, though, before he became deathly ill and was discharged home.  Kornel spent a long time recovering and then began a concrete company, which was even more successful than the tailoring business.  In total, he employed fifteen to twenty men, and the Beraneks were considered fairly well-off.

Jan’s mother, Hedvika, stayed at home with their six children.  She was apparently very intelligent and had been partially educated.  Her two brothers had studied to become teachers, and Hedvika was just a year into her studies to become a teacher, as well, when her father died.  Hedvika had no choice, then, but to quit so that she could help her mother with her four younger sisters.

Education remained very important to Hedvika, however, as it was with Kornel, so all of their six children were sent to school beyond the grammar school level.  All three of Jan’s sisters went to high school and three years of “industrial school,” where they studied “domestic science.”  Jan went to high school and then to four years at a business academy to study accounting.  In the middle of his training, though, when Jan was just sixteen, Kornel died.  Jan says that his father’s death had a profound effect on him and that he still remembers him with great fondness.

Jan’s first job out of school was working as a bookkeeper for a man whose business was to “buy and sell goods.”  Jan was so efficient that after only a couple of months, the man ran out of work for him to do and thus laid him off.  From there, Jan’s brother-in-law, an engineer, got him a job in a building company, where Jan worked as a timekeeper, a bookkeeper and an assistant surveyor for over eight years.

It was during this time that Jan met the love of his life.  He was twenty-five years old.

It all started out on a warm April day in 1935 when he got the urge to be outdoors instead of in his stuffy office.  He snuck away from his desk at lunch time and decided to go walking in the fields.  Unable to resist, he laid down in the fresh grass for a quick nap and soon fell into a deep sleep.  He didn’t wake up until 1:30 p.m. – well past his lunch hour and rushed back to work.  Luckily, he did not get in trouble, but he developed a terrible cold from lying so long on the damp ground.  The cold persisted for several weeks, so he finally asked permission to leave work to go to a doctor and, upon getting his boss’s approval, took the streetcar into town.

At the doctor’s office, there were about five people waiting ahead of him.  As Jan took his place in line, he saw before him a lovely young girl, idly twirling a French hat.  When she dropped it, Jan bent over and picked it up and handed it back to her.  From there they began talking, and Jan learned that her name was Amalie Laska and that she lived with her uncle, a retired train officer, in town.

Finally Amalie was called in to see the doctor, was examined, and then left, waving goodbye to Jan as she went.  Jan then raced into the doctor’s office and began to ask him for any information on Amalie.  As it happened, Amalie’s brother and the doctor had gone to school together and were very good friends, so he knew all about Amalie.  He didn’t think it right, however, to give Jan her address.

When Jan finally left the doctor’s office, wondering how he could see Amalie again, he found to his surprise that she was standing in the vestibule of the building, trying to avoid the rain that was pouring down.  Jan was delighted to see her, but she turned and reproached him, saying, “Don’t think I waited here for you!”

Rather than be deterred by her comment, however, Jan thought she was even more delightful than he did before.  He offered to help her onto the streetcar, but she vehemently declined, saying that she did not have the money for the streetcar, and likewise refused to let him pay for her.  Thinking quickly, Jan left her for a moment and rushed out into the rain to a nearby shop and bought her a box of chocolates.

When he arrived back in the vestibule, soaked, and handed her the chocolates, she seemed angry at first but then politely accepted them.  The rain let up, then, and they parted, Amalie refusing any help from him.   Sadly, he caught the streetcar back to work, and Amalie walked home, where she hid the chocolates under her pillow so that her uncle, who was extremely strict, wouldn’t see them.

Jan was utterly surprised, then, when upon walking home from his streetcar stop, he happened to look up at a house he was passing and saw Amalie in the window!  It was a house very near his sister and brother-in-law’s home, where he was currently living.  He couldn’t believe his good fortune!  He waved, and to his delight, she waved back.

Because Amalie’s uncle did not approve of her dating anyone at all, she and Jan developed an elaborate set of hand signals to give to each other while he stood in the street beneath her window.  This went on for many weeks until one day when Amalie’s uncle happened to notice Jan in the street making his strange hand gestures.  Amalie’s uncle feared Jan was an insane lunatic and that he was perhaps attempting to intimidate the elderly neighbor woman who lived above them.  Upon closer inspection, however, he realized he was gesturing to Amalie and was furious!

That was the end of Jan and Amalie’s secret relationship.  Jan was hauled into the house and properly introduced and, to the uncle’s surprise and pleasure, then accompanied them to church!  As time went on, Amalie’s uncle’s stiff exterior began to melt a little, and he eventually grew to like and approve of Jan.

Jan proposed to Amalie on a Sunday—July 10th, 1935, which happened to be her name-day.  They took the streetcar out into the country for a picnic.  Jan brought flowers and chocolates, and they sat by a creek and had a picnic lunch.  Jan then asked her to marry him.  She accepted, but she cried because she had nothing to offer him.  Jan, needless to say, did not care, so overjoyed was he that she was to be his wife.

They were married on April 4, 1936 at 4:00 pm.  At first, Amalie’s uncle was not crazy about them marrying so young, but when the couple assured him that he could live with them, he rapidly gave his approval.  At the last minute, however, he changed his mind and went to live with his sister instead.

Soon after their marriage, Jan decided that he wasn’t being promoted fast enough in the building department where he worked, so they decided to move to Prague, where he got a job with the city sewer department as a surveyor.  While there, a friend asked him if he wanted to work part-time for the city newspaper.  Jan agreed and soon liked it so much that he began working there full time.  He advanced quickly and was soon the administrator of the whole newspaper by 1945.

Meanwhile, Amalie found work as a seamstress until their daughter Klara was born on August 15, 1939.  Jan simply adored his baby daughter.  He took her for walks in her buggy every Saturday, and the three of them were very happy.  When she was only five years old, however, Klara came down with diphtheria and died.  For Jan, it was the most tragic thing that had ever happened, or ever would happen, in his life.  Unfortunately, he and Amalie did not have any more children, as the doctor warned them that it would put Amalie in mortal danger.  Also, they were unwilling to bring another child into the world when their lives were so uncertain due to the WWII and the political unrest around them.

Somehow, Jan and Amalie survived their personal tragedy and the war years as well, but in 1948, Stalin began rounding up all of the intellectuals and leading men of the country.  Jan, as head of a major newspaper, was targeted, so Jan and Amalie decided to flee.  They made their way to an international refugee camp in Germany, where they stayed three months.  From there, they were transferred to a camp in Italy for a year and a half.  They wanted desperately to immigrate to America, but the waiting list was over two years.  Meanwhile, the conditions in the camp were terrible, and Amalie was sick.  They decided, then, to go to Australia instead.

A friend they had met in the camp went with them, and once in Australia, Jan found a job with the government, laying electrical lines.  Amalie was able to again find work as a seamstress.   When Jan’s two-year contract was up for that particular job, they moved to Malvern, where Jan worked for an English factory that made jam.  While there, Jan met a man named Mr. Gregory, who befriended him and invited him to see the observatory where he worked.

The Americans had built an observatory near Malvern, where periscopes for submarines, among other things, were built.  The observatory also contained a 30-meter telescope, which was under the strict control of Greenwich, England.  It was in a very secluded place in a forest on a hill, and Jan was fascinated by the work that went on there.  He spent a lot of his extra time at the observatory and even volunteered some of his surveying skills when needed.

Eventually he managed to persuade Mr. Gregory to let him look through the telescope, which was off limits to all personnel.  So one night, the two men snuck back to the observatory, unlocked the telescope and beheld the night sky.  Jan was in awe.  For him, it remains the most beautiful sight he has ever seen.

As a whole, however, Jan and Amalie did not like Australia, so in 1956, they left for Canada.  They stayed there only a year and a half, however, as Jan could not find work.  They were living only on what Amalie could make as a seamstress, so they decided to go back to Australia.  When they got there, however, they found that things had changed a lot in their short absence, or so it seemed to them.  Unemployment was high, and they found it difficult to make ends meet.

So, once again they decided to leave.  It was 1960, and they were finally accepted into the United States.  They made their way to Chicago, and Jan got a job in a corrugated paper company, where he remained for fifteen years.  Amalie got a job in tailoring at Sears and Roebuck.  They bought a home in Chicago, where they lived for fourteen years before selling it and moving to Cicero.  They remained in Cicero for their last twenty years together.

In 1990, Amalie died of cancer.  Jan has not yet recovered from this blow.  After Amalie’s death, a Mrs. Martinek, a friend of Amalie’s for over thirty years, took Jan in to live with her.  Jan became terribly depressed, however, and in 1993 tried to kill himself.  Mrs. Martinek found him in time, however, and brought him to the hospital.  From there he has been discharged to a nursing home for Czechs and Slovaks, where it is hoped he will make a smooth transition.

Though Jan is a talkative, pleasant, well-mannered, well-groomed, lovely gentleman, he seems inherently sad and harbors a lot of anger, which seems to currently be directed toward Mrs. Martinek, whom, he says, “tricked him” into coming to the nursing home.  And though he does not say it, perhaps he is angry that she foiled his attempt at suicide.  He needs little in the way of medical care, but his depression lingers.  Even if he were to improve, he has no home to go to.  He has yet to make any new relationships with his fellow residents and instead spends most of the day sitting near the nurses’ station, talking to the staff any chance that he gets about the long, amazing life he has led.

Originally written: December 1994

The post The Amazing Life and Love of Jan Beranek! appeared first on Michelle Cox.