Angela Stekovich

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Name:: Angela Stekovich
Date of Birth:: January 23, 1916

Date of Death:: March 02, 2010
Age:: 94

Location: Chicago, Illinois, United States

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Eulogy for Angela Stekovich:
Delivered Saturday, March 6, 2010 at St. Daniel the Prophet Church, Chicago, IL
Since I never really knew any of my grandparents very well for various circumstances, Angie was like a grandma to me. And like most grandmother’s, Angie certainly had the gift of gab. She would engage in conversation with just about anyone: friends, neighbors, the person behind the register at McDonald’s, or a patient in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. And she would speak to them with genuine curiosity about their lives. She wanted to know about them. She loved making new friends. She loved being around people.
Like many of you, I grew up listening to Angie’s stories. And over the course of my conversations with Angie, she oftentimes mentioned that she should write a book about her life. She would tell a story from her past and end that story with the statement “Oh, I should write a book.” While Angie never wrote that book to my knowledge, I often wonder: What would Angela Stekovich include in her book of life?
The opening of her book may have included her early life growing up on Natoma Avenue. Natoma Avenue was much different then, primarily prairie stretching in most directions as far as the eye could see. She would talk about crossing muddy ditches while trying to keep her clothes clean on her way to elementary school. She would speak about her brother Paul, a kind brother who could perform amazing feats of strength. In listening to her stories, her brother was not Paul Stekovich to me-he was more like Paul Bunyan, a man who could hit a baseball to the railroad tracks by her house or lift a tree stump - roots and all-from the ground when many other men had failed. Angie and Paul definitely had a special kinship. I’m sure that they are together in Heaven.
Angie may have devoted a portion of that book to her life during the Great Depression. She was 13 years old on Black Tuesday when the market crashed in 1929. She was definitely old enough to understand the severity of the situation for her family and the country. She watched her mother scrimp and save so as to not lose the family property. She watched her mother work as hard as possible to provide for her and Paul. She described how her mother was always canning fruits and vegetables so as to be prepared for a day when they might not have food. And as many of you know, Angie’s thrift was legendary. She would not waste anything. Anything. An old envelope, a napkin, a ketchup packet, or a scrap of food. She would put any unwanted food in front her house for the birds and squirrels to eat. She would use an old envelope to write notes or phone numbers on. For a couple of years, Angie and I would go to breakfast almost every Sunday morning. At the New Warsaw Buffet on 63rd street, she would smuggle out an apple pancake-syrup and all-in her purse. At Cafe Rene, she would take home every last hash brown or scrap of bacon. I always found her frugal nature amusing, but it also put her life into perspective for me. I only imagine that Angie’s experiences as a young girl during the Great Depression helped shape her worldview and the values she carried into her adulthood.
Angie would have devoted a portion of her autobiography to her jobs. She remembered her first job at Inland Glass on Austin and 65th Street when she was 15 years old. Her duty was to package the large glass domes that would be used for Chicago street lights. When her friend Helen from school found a job at Pepsodent, Angie followed her there. She was one of 70 girls hired and she spent the next 31 years there, not once taking a sick day. She maintained many relationships with the girls from Pepsodent long into her senior years. She fondly remembered how close she was with her co-workers and loved their monthly lunch meetings.
And how could I forget the animals? The book of Angie’s life would be incomplete without a section on her animals. As you may have noticed, in most of Angie’s pictures, animals share the spotlight with people. As a young girl, she loved her cows: Shakey, Bossy, and Geney. And if a stray cat or dog ever wandered past 5825 South Natoma Avenue looking for a home, he found a true friend in Angie. I will always remember Angie for her love of animals: Rocky, Bandit, Lady, Molly, Morris, Sylvester, Bingo, and more recently Boo-Boo the cat to name a few. These animals received world-class treatment and world-class meals, for Angie couldn’t resist sneaking portions of her own dinner for her cats and dogs. Most who knew Angie would agree that her animals brought great joy to her life.

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Cont.: But it was her connection to people that defined Angie’s life. She loved telling stories about her neighbors and her closest friends. Ewelina, Angie’s caretaker until the end, was amazed by how many stories Angie would tell about her neighbors and friends. And many people formed life-long friendships with Angie including Eleanor, Louie, Jackie, Nona, and my dad Elmer. Dad, I always found your unwavering devotion to Angie so heartwarming. You would do anything for her and she loved you for that. You were her special guardian here on Earth. Thank you for being such a positive role model for me.
Angie always said “To have a friend, you have to be a friend.” Although living alone, her friends brought her comfort and laughter. For Angie, her friends were her life. Over my last spring vacation, I asked Angie about what her friends meant to her. She replied, “That’s the joy of life. Without friends, what do you have?”
Angie, thank you for being my friend and the grandma I never had. I will never forget you.

Angela Stekovich

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