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There are parts below that you may connect with, especially if you
are over 24 years old and you have known someone who lived through
the Depression era. But too, hopefully you've known someone who has
lived a forthright life at full steam with love and respect for
others. Lorna (Tibbles) Seput
Born on April 13, 1916
Died Friday, Dec. 2, 2005
Lives on in the memory and history of thousands
Daughter, sister, wife, mother, aunt, grandmother,
great-grandmother, great-great-grandmother; called "Mom" by her
daughters when they were alive and "Gram" by her grandchildren.
At work she was "boss," as chief supervisor over the largest
glass container factory in the world.
Work and friendships she gained at Owens of Illinois were a major
part of her adult life. She never turned down overtime and worked
the grueling swing shifts that tend to turn life upside down, all
without even the slightest complaint. In her last years there, she
was on her feet all day and would walk the length of the plant
several times a day as the overall plant supervisor. It was common
for her to work double shifts and be on her feet 16 hours straight.
She developed large bunions and her legs would ache in her
off-hours.
She was active in the company's social club, attending spring
mother-daughter banquets with her daughters and granddaughters, and
was a member of the Golden Emblem Club.
She took an interest in her co-workers and developed several
close women friends there over the years. Viola "Vi" Ruddy (who has
passed on) and Lola Bundy were two of her best buddies. She and Lola
were still in touch, though it wasn't easy to do for either of them.
Her parents died, both unexpectedly within three weeks of each
other, just about the time her two girls, Norma and Nancy, were
raised. This left a void in her heart, as she was especially close
to her father, who established the glass plant union. She lived
right next to their house, the family homestead, from midlife
forward.
While maintaining a good house, she stayed in close contact with
all her family and her siblings and later with her husband Zip's
family.
Lorna was a snappy dresser when she had a special occasion to
dress up for, such as going out for dinner or a banquet, and for the
holidays. She liked to do her own hair and kept it curled. The
expense of a beauty parlor was reserved for an occasional perm.
Without any work she was a doll, but with just a hint of powder and
lipstick she was easily beautiful. She and Zip were quite the
good-looking couple together.
She didn't have much opportunity to travel. A trip to Florida;
shorter trips to St. Louis, Chicago and Joliet shopping; and later
in life, trips with the Young at Heart. Niagara Falls represented
one of her biggest trips. She enjoyed rare trips with friends to the
horse track and later the boats.
She enjoyed shopping and buying gifts for friends and family. And
was always ready for every special occasion.
She loved the holidays and Christmas most of all. She enjoyed
seeing her daughters; her sons-in-law, Mike Babczak and Bob Angelico;
and all of her eight grandchildren, Cathy, Bobbie, Billie, Craig,
Mark and Scott Angelico, and Jan and John Babczak.
Retirement didn't slow her down much. Oh, she was a little more
leisurely at doing things and enjoyed not trying to beat the clock
before getting back to work. She baked more and more.
She'd bake and take something down to her friend Beulah at the
Cozy Corner Restaurant. People she had worked with would call and
ask if she could bake something. They didn't have the skill or the
time.
Word got around about her wonderful baking skills, and she was
baking most days -- nothing fancy, but good-tasting stuff. Most of
it was cakes, like the Texas sheet cake or a Hawaiian cake that
people would call and order for birthdays and special occasions. She
did it all at cost, just to do her little part at helping them out,
and she enjoyed it greatly. Secretly she said she loved the smells,
especially as the cakes baked.
Baking was a huge part of our family history. Most memorable
family recipe was the Red and Green Christmas Cake. Most people are
acquainted with the red velvet cake that became so popular in the
late '60s. Well, this moist, dense chocolaty cake could be made
green too. Lorna's sister Marge, who lived just across the street,
shared this project many years. One of them would make a red cake
and the other a green. Then they'd swap a layer so they'd have red
and green cake. Covered with that rich whipped-cream frosting and
sprinkled in festive red and green sugar sprinkles, it was a sight
to behold.
Everyone loved seeing that cake. Although Grandpa had a few
problems after eating the green cake the first time, Gram got a
tickle every time she remembered it.
Lorna was especially close to her youngest sister, Marge; the two
enjoyed a lifetime of sharing. Marge and her husband, Slim Schuler,
were there to help Lorna during some tough years while she worked at
the factory and raised her girls.
After Lorna built her house at 503 Stanton St., there were 30
years they lived directly across the street from each other. There
were the simple things, such as each got a different daily paper --
one would get the Chicago paper, the other the Streator paper -- and
they swapped them each day, often stopping to sit for a cup of
coffee and a bit of conversation. They were sisters to the heart.
A visit to Grandma Lorna's house was a treat for whatever little
one stayed the afternoon or night. She knew how to treat a child and
make them feel special. She'd set them up with a pop, cartoons, and
if they stayed the night, they knew they'd be tucked in between
sweet-smelling crisp sheets, kissed, and then their head would do a
slow settle into a nest of the softest down pillow.
Christmas was a favorite time of year for her. She maintained an
understated reverence toward the Christ child while she fell full
into the spirit of the season, playing and singing of carols, gift
buying, decorating and preparing holiday food.
Her Christmas trees were stories in themselves. She was the first
in the families to get a fake tree, and she changed trees every
couple of years. Probably the most unusual one was the silver tree
with tree needles the size and shape of shredded paper, made of
highly reflective material that moved with the slightest breeze,
like from the heat duct below it. Two rotating color-wheel lights
focused on either side of it. If the jumping glare was a bit hard on
the eyes, it was bright and colorful. That one was replaced not long
after with a white-flocked tree that reinstated dignified calmness.
The years with her husband, grown daughters and grandchildren
were her favorite to recall. You could watch the tenderness wash
over her as she talked about those times.
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Other favorite memories were from further back, when her parents
were still alive. Her mom would fix a Sunday dinner for everybody,
and there'd be games, usually cards, played in the afternoon. She
liked partnering with her father.
She was her father's favored child, and she adored him. He gave
her the lot next door to the family homestead to build her house on.
She was an avid Cubs fan, and she would talk the talk about the
players and most recent games if you brought it up. If it was game
time, she might be working in the kitchen, but the game would be
blaring from the living room TV and she'd run in to check anytime
the announcer got excited and the crowds began cheering.
Some of the things that might seem odd today, but were quite
common to her time:
A foldable plastic rain hat in every coat pocket or the
vinyl-hooded kind in her dresser drawer. Also a good stock of
scarves to go over the head in any weather.
Lots of canned goods stored in the basement, bought in quantity
-- as much as a year's worth of some items.
Numerous bags of nuts stocked her freezer. She would buy these in
bulk and have them on hand for holiday baking.
Every kind of cleaning supply you could think of to clean
anything in the house or car: car wash, jewelry cleaner, coffeepot
cleaner, floor cleaners and polishes, mineral removers, powder and
liquid sink cleansers of all sorts. There were bottles and bottles
of dish soap. Also the accompanying cleaning tools, an array of
brooms, wash mops, basement squeegees, sponges, feather dusters,
buckets and buckets, and more.
She must have used them, as her house, sinks, tub, stairs,
floors, everything, were always spotless, but I don't know of anyone
ever seeing her using them. Never were there dirty dishes piled and
waiting. She was always ready, no matter when you stopped by, to get
you a cup of coffee, tea, soda or whatever and sit down to visit for
a spell. And no mess or evidence of a cleaning project could ever be
seen. That was always a marvel.
A visit consisted of a lot of "mmm-hmmms," as she usually tried
to listen carefully to whatever you talked about, even if she had no
idea of what or whom you were talking about. She liked to be
affirmative.
Soap -- you never saw such a stock of personal soaps. Most of it
was stored in the bathroom closet, some in the basement. Shelves and
shelves -- seashell soaps, hand soap, facial soap, bath soaps of all
kinds, deodorant soap, spring-smelling soap, bath beads, bath salts,
bubble bath. The stock of that closet may well be why children most
commonly remember her as smelling like roses.
Now, she didn't just hoard these things for years and let it all
get old. No, she had a purpose or a means of turning it over. Which
intent it was, no one ever knew for certain, but she'd give a lot of
it away. If someone said that they were going to be doing this or
that, she'd listen carefully until she found something they needed.
"Oh, I have an extra of that," she'd say, and she'd run and get it
for you lickety-split, so it wasn't forgotten later. And, it had
been on sale when she bought it too.
Didn't matter what it was -- walnuts for a new coffeecake
recipe, a can of cherries for a pie, a bottle of dish soap to save
you a trip to the store -- oh, she just happened to have an extra on
hand.
If you hadn't been there in a while, you were often going out the
back door with a bag of stuff. Norma and John used to call it
"shopping Grandma's."
As her mind started slipping from the brain tumor, she had
increasing difficulty holding a common conversation. But bring up
dessert recipes and the spark was struck in her eye. You were off
and going in nearly unending conversation.
Sweets dominated in our family. Even if you were talking about a
salad, it was most usually a jello base, with the only vegetable
being maybe some grated carrots, and then a topper of sweetened
mayonnaise. Yep, that was salad?!
There was never any boredom discussing new pie, cake or dessert
recipes. Where to shop, brands of the ingredients, the process, what
pans were used, oven settings, every variable right down to how to
eat it and remembering who liked it most. These were the favorite
conversations most readily remembered and shared.
If you were to try to explain her personality, observation might
be a good indicator. She was industrious around the house and yard.
She loved to sing or hum along to the happy songs on the radio. She
listened intently to the local news or read the daily paper and
would let out a sad, "Ohhhh," if something bad had happened to
someone she knew. A slow smile crossed her face, and she'd say,
"Isn't that nice," over good news, such as a baby being born.
She quoted platitudes for strength and encouragement when
anything bad happened. And she had one for every occasion, always
choosing to look at the positive side or to the future. For example:
Plaque by back
door:
Keep your words soft and sweet.
You may have to eat them.
In her wallet:
Flattery is like chewing gum.
Enjoy it briefly, but don't swallow it.
Motto in times of
trouble:
This too shall pass.
Chinese proverb
she often quoted:
Fooled once, shame
on you.
Fooled twice, shame on me.
She was happy by choice, and this was her attitude to the day she
was able to go where there are no sorrows and there is no pain.
Unable to walk for the last couple of years and frustrated by
language and memory recall, this loving 89-year-old woman was still
choosing contentment in all circumstances. She would still laugh at
herself and with you, and continued expressing concern for everyone
else.
Most children only saw her sweet and soft-spoken side, but she
was strong and strong-willed. She could stand up for herself and
would not take any guff off anyone, so she said. It was purported
that on a few extremely rare occasions when some big threat had been
posed to someone close to her, she went to the offender fiery and
straightened things out.
Though she was a blend of contrasting characteristics, they
somehow meshed and didn't seem incongruous, maybe because of her
consistency. She wasn't moody and carried the underlying strength of
a foot soldier who has seen battle -- a true, resilient survivor.
She was "steadfast inspiration" to me and I'm sure many others. A
model in the job of living, well done!
[Jan
Youngquist]
Obituary
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