Lois Grant Mora

Lois was my grandmother's aunt.

Technically, she was born Hannah Lois Grant but hated her birth name. My grandmother, was given her middle name in her honor, Lois.

Lois was born on June 12, 1890 in Troy, NY. She was the eldest of three.

In 1913 she married George Mora. They never had any children and she died on September 3, 1958 in Lake, Ohio. She was interred at Lake View Cemetery in Cleveland.

Harriet

This is going to be one short post.

Harriet P William born circa 1815 in MA.

She marries Abraham Miles in December 1835 in Cleveland.

They appear on and off in the census for the Euclid area.

Harriet dies May 9, 1892 in Cleveland. Her body was sent to Independence Township Vault by a municipal Cleveland Cemetery.

That's it. I know nothing more. Harriet is a true enigma.

The Library Cleaner

My mother's grandfather was Issac Evans. Isaac was a twin and the youngest of many born to Welsh immigrants in Cleveland. His parents William & Christianna immigrated from Wales. 

Isaac worked as a fireman, labor jobs, and most notably - a library custodian at the Miles Park Branch.

Isaac suffered memory lapses in his later years and not much is known about his family. He died in 1945 and is buried with his wife, Mary, in Calvary Cemetery. 

The Cheese Spread

I'm going to divert this weeks blog from Isaac Evans to a 4 legged friend. Pets play an integral part of our lives. In my mother's family, we are known as the "animal Polachek's".

My mother's eldest sister Linda was born with a physical disability. She has never let it stop her; however, she has limitations. Growing up she began learning about animals, caring for them, etc. Unfortunately, I'm not able to find the exact article but her budding animal career is mentioned in the papers. One recalls the "strange incidents at the Frank Polachek household" namely when Stash the armadillo smashed all the bleach bottles in the middle of the winter. Or the time tree frogs jumped all over my grandmother. I could go on and on with family stories that involve animals. Birds, herps, exotics, they had them all.


Growing up, we had two cats as my father did not like dogs. We had a rotweiler for awhile but that didn't work out. Tiger was adopted from the APL. Mr. J was found wandering the tracks in Cleveland while my father was on patrol and as he put it , " it was a one way ride to the APL ". Mr. J was an orange tabby. Tiger was a tiger/white cat. Tiger got into moth balls and died when we were young. Mr. J was ride or die.

Mr. J was "drugged" by the vet and moved to AZ with us (in the car!!!). I remember his fat ass burrowing under hotel beds and us trying to coax him out. He loved sleeping in the pilot light of the furnace.

In 1995, Mr. J started missing the litter box and having problems. We took him to the vet. Kidney failure. We made the decision to put him down and we cried for days.

For my 13th birthday I really wanted an orange tabby like Mr. J. My Aunt Kathy had recently found an abandoned litter, no mother in sight, near deaconess hospital in Cleveland. One cat was a skinny runt they named little boy. Little boy was neutered and declared healthy. I didn't know it yet but he was bound for Phoenix.

Fighting the USDA weather restrictions on live shipments of animals, he was flown from Cleveland to Atlanta and finally to Phoenix around my birthday. He was so calm that he didn't require anesthesia or drugs of any sort.

I had no idea he was being flown in. We got a call and mom said we had to go to Terminal 2 Cargo Hold. There we found a scared orange tabby in a big red box. It was Crackers.

From there, he was mine. We lived in Arizona and travelled to California, Oregon, and Washington. He rode shot gun in my car.

I'd like to keep my other memories private, something I can hold on to.

Thank you for being my friend Crackers but most importantly - thank you for being my family.

Isabel

Isn't it funny how with some we recall the end of their lives but not the life - or how they lived for that matter.

Shortly after my Uncle Dave died, my Aunt Robin mentioned my father had a 5 year diary my late grandmother kept. I asked him to to read it and he sent it out.

She began authoring it around 1934, her junior year of high school. It was a line a day. The diary chronicled things like camping, dates, graduating high school, her mother's death, and graduating college. Her mother's death was quite interesting to me. Her mother, Isabel, wasn't a woman I knew much about except she had been ill.

Isabel, Dorothy, and Robert Leisenheimer. Passport photo, note her signature at the bottom.

In early January 1938 my grandmother writes that her mother is going to have an operation to remove a tumor from her brain.  A few days go by and she writes that "mother is now at DeVand's funeral home" and later she counted the exact amount of flowers at the funeral home. I'm not sure if she was really that detached, the diary was limited, or maybe it was a combination of things.

Isabel's Obituary.

But yes. Sadly Grandma Isabel died on the operating table at age 46 or 48 (depending on the source).