Barbara Hanawalt Conners

Barbara Hanawalt Conners, 86, of Catonsville, Md., died on June 20, 2011; She was the loving mother of Kevin C. Conners of Lewistown, Mont., Brian C. Conners of Pacific Palisades, Calif. (wife Cathy Scully Conners), Maureen G. Conners of Catonsville, Md. (fiancé Tom Dezell), and the late Stephen P. Conners; cherished grandmother of Austin Conners of Martinsburg, W.Va. (wife Aya), Angela (Conners) Widhalm of Los Angeles, Calif. (husband Curt), Andrea Conners of Minamata City, Japan, Haley Conners of Yelm, Wash., Matthew Scully, Chad Scully and Neal Conners, all of Pacific Palisades, Calif.; dear sister of her surviving siblings George Hanawalt of Alamogordo, N.M., Winthrop Hanawalt of El Paso, Texas, and Lois Gill of Honolulu, Hawaii. She is also survived by many beloved nieces and nephews.

Relatives and friends may call at the STERLING ASHTON SCHWAB WITZKE FUNERAL HOME OF CATONSVILLE, INC., 1630 Edmondson Avenue, on Friday, July 8th from 7-9 PM. A Funeral Mass will be celebrated on Saturday, July 9th, at 10 AM, at St. Mark Chapel, 30 Melvin Avenue, Catonsville, Md. Interment will take place on Wednesday, October 19th at 1 PM in Arlington National Cemetery near Washington, D.C. In lieu of flowers, the family suggests donations in Barbara's name to: Little Sisters of the Poor at St. Martin's Home, 601 Maiden Choice Lane; Catonsville, MD 21228 or Stella Maris, 2300 Dulaney Valley Road; Timonium, MD 21093.

From the Catonsville Times

Barbara Hanawalt Conners, 86, of Catonsville, Md., died on June 20, 2011; She was the loving mother of Kevin C. Conners of Lewistown, Mont., Brian C. Conners of Pacific Palisades, Calif. (wife Cathy Scully Conners), Maureen G. Conners of Catonsville, Md. (fiancé Tom Dezell), and the late Stephen P. Conners; cherished grandmother of Austin Conners of Martinsburg, W.Va. (wife Aya), Angela (Conners) Widhalm of Los Angeles, Calif. (husband Curt), Andrea Conners of Minamata City, Japan, Haley Conners of Yelm, Wash., Matthew Scully, Chad Scully and Neal Conners, all of Pacific Palisades, Calif.; dear sister of her surviving siblings George Hanawalt of Alamogordo, N.M., Winthrop Hanawalt of El Paso, Texas, and Lois Gill of Honolulu, Hawaii. She is also survived by many beloved nieces and nephews.

Relatives and friends may call at the STERLING ASHTON SCHWAB WITZKE FUNERAL HOME OF CATONSVILLE, INC., 1630 Edmondson Avenue, on Friday, July 8th from 7-9 PM. A Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated on Saturday, July 9th, at 10 AM, at St. Mark Chapel, 30 Melvin Avenue, Catonsville, Md. Interment will take place on Wednesday, October 19th at 1 PM in Arlington National Cemetery near Washington, D.C. In lieu of flowers, the family suggests donations in Barbara's name to: Little Sisters of the Poor at St. Martin's Home, 601 Maiden Choice Lane; Catonsville, MD 21228 or Stella Maris, 2300 Dulaney Valley Road; Timonium, MD 21093.

EULOGY PREPARED BY BARBARA'S SON KEVIN:

For those who don’t know me, my name is Kevin Conners, and I am the second born of four children to my mother, Barbara Pearl Hanawalt Conners.

Sorrow fills our hearts at this sad moment, a time that is deep and personal. Mom has silently closed the door of life and departed from us. Our lives will be empty in the areas that she had brightened for us.

That is why we are gathered here; to say goodbye to her. I would like to speak in celebration of her life.

Mom was living proof of how fine a person can be. She was devoted mother to Stephen, Kevin, Brian and Maureen and grandmother to our children. Mom dealt with the pain that every parent dreads. She lost Stephen, her firstborn, in 1998.

The character of the life she lived might be summed up in a few words: she was sincere; she was tenacious; she was kind.

The Mother I remember was happy; not only cheerful within herself but who gave so much cheerfulness and comfort to others, especially the downtrodden. She had a beautiful smile, a sharp sense of humor (especially the satire of Stephen Colbert); and she had a wonderful, contagious laugh and a gentle demeanor. She loved all sports, and, recently, especially, NASCAR. She was the ultimate NASCAR grandma who knew as much about the sport and drivers as any ultimate fan.

By her death, all the people who knew her will miss a vibrant individual with a rare friendliness and charm of personality. Mom was a genuinely warm and wonderful individual; one we will miss greatly. Our sorrow is lessened only slightly with the comforting thought that she lived-life-the-way she wanted for so many years; and that we had the privilege to know her.

I spoke to mom exactly 12 hours before she left this world. I felt it might be the last time she could understand me. As Maureen put the phone by Mom’s ear and told her who it was, Maureen said mom became still and listened intently; she could not speak. This is some of what I said to her: “You are the greatest mother I could have ever hoped for. Thank you so much for all the love you gave me and to help me become the person that I am. You were one of the greatest fighters I have ever known. I know that you are tired. It’s OK to rest now. God is waiting with open arms to carry you to Steve. I love you, Mom. Goodbye.”

Adlai Stevenson once said this about a person and their contribution: “It is not the years in a life that counts; it is the life in the years.” My mother Barbara lived! We will all miss her. Goodbye again, Mom. Rest in peace, and fill the heavens with your laughter.

EULOGY PREPARED BY BARBARA'S DAUGHTER, MAUREEN:

I have lost my best friend.

There are many ways to define a friend, and throughout my life I’ve always had a difficult time singling out one person above all others. I have best friends from childhood, from high school, from college, from jobs. But none has been a lifetime best friend except my mother, Barbara Pearl Hanawalt Conners. We were each other’s best buddies emotionally, financially and spiritually; in travel, in sporting events and in entertainment. In life, really.

There is nothing that can compare to losing your mother. You don’t know that until it happens, until others who have lost a mom tell you. One of my childhood friends, Nancy Hughes Burns, wrote to me: “It’s one of those days you know will come, but still isn’t easy.”

Moms are the glue in families. Sorry, Dads, but women are the ones who do the biggest jobs raising the kids. I know it’s different these days, but my mother was always there when I got home from school. She was the one who always got us up in the morning, though sometimes it was a struggle – especially on cold winter mornings in Pennsylvania. In junior high, I’d roll over and want to go back to sleep and Mom would yell up the stairs, “Maureen, hurry and get up! You’ll miss the bus!!”

But Mom wasn’t just a housewife, a mother and a substitute teacher. Born on Sept. 15, 1924, in McFarland, Calif., she was the third from the youngest of 12 children, with 3 brothers, 5 sisters, 1 half-brother and 2 half-sisters. She once told me how she hated hand-me-downs, but it was the Depression. It gave her an appreciation of new clothes, and she never seemed to have enough.

About 1929, her father moved the family to Bakersfield, Calif. Five years later, he drove his wife and youngest children across the country to a farm in Gettysburg, Pa. Mom was almost 11 and entered the 6th grade at Good Hope School – a one-room school with 8 grades. After graduation, she entered the 9th grade at Gettysburg High School and graduated in 1942. She was a popular and bright student, always on the Honor Roll and elected student body president.

After graduation, she moved back to California and attended Santa Monica Junior College and UCLA. She then transferred to Georgetown University. In 1947, she was one of the first women to graduate from Georgetown’s School of Foreign Service. She returned to Los Angeles and took classes at Loyola Law School.

Mom entered the United States Air Force Officer Candidate School as a Staff Sergeant in 1951 and completed her training at Lackland Air Force Base in Texas later that year. She was commissioned as a 2nd lieutenant the next day, and for most of her service worked in intelligence as an assistant adjutant. She was awarded the National Defense Service Medal and was honorably discharged at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base as a 1st Lieutenant in 1954. Then she began her career as a mother of four children, all of us born on military bases. My oldest brother, Stephen, predeceased her. He is buried at Arlington National Cemetery, where she will join him on Oct. 19.

It is not easy to sum up a person’s life, but I can easily say my mother was one of the best persons I’ll ever know. She was active in politics while we lived on the farm in Pennsylvania, and she always had strong opinions. She as an activist with the school board before it was cool, and she was always trying to right wrongs. She stuck up for the underdog and the powerless, and did what she could to help them. Mom laughed easily, and she could laugh as much, if not more, the second time she heard something funny. She lived with me for most of the past three years of her life, and there were many mornings I’d awaken to her laughter in the downstairs TV room as she caught a repeat of Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert. Even though she’d seen the show the night before, she’d laugh again and again.

Mom was a lifelong sports fan, especially baseball at an early age – the Washington Senators and the Philadelphia Athletics – and later was a devotee of NASCAR. That I never understood, but she knew all the drivers’ names and the numbers on their cars. I took her to see a NASCAR race in Dover, Del., in 2009 – just two days after I was laid off from my job. I wanted to do anything else that day, but I drove her to see her favorite racer, Casey Mears, and I actually had fun. Because Mom had fun. She didn’t let things bother her too much. It wasn’t easy to think like that while I was jobless. But she’d tell me not to worry, things would be all right. She was right, of course.

Mom also loved eating out; going to Gettysburg High School reunions; antiquing; and country music. I’ll never forget her taking me to see Jerry Lee Lewis in Uniontown, Pa., when I was in junior high, and how much she loved a novelty song in the 1970s: “Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road.” She loved to travel, something she had little opportunity to do while raising my brothers and me, except for the occasional family Christmas trips to California. She did visit her sons as they raised families of their own, Brian in Los Angeles and Kevin in Montana. And she’d visit me in Orlando.

In 1999, I took Mom on a tour of Portugal and Spain. She had always wanted to see Portugal, especially Fatima. The itinerary didn’t include enough time there, so we rented a driver with other Catholics from Maryland who wanted to re-visit Fatima and explore other parts of Portugal. We headed to Coimbra because my mother wanted to visit the convent where the Roman Catholic nun Sister Lucia resided. She was one of three children who had witnessed a series of apparitions of the Virgin Mary in 1917. My mom had written her a letter and fully expected to walk right up to the door and have Sister Lucia invite us in. However, a nice nun who greeted us said – though our translator driver – that Sister Lucia was in isolation and didn’t see anyone. I think she saw the disappointment on Mom’s face and led us to a chapel inside the door. We stayed for a bit, and Mom was satisfied.

Our next trip was to Hawaii in 2000. Though Mom’s younger sister, Lois, has lived in Honolulu since graduating college, Mom had never been there. She had a wonderful time, and Lois made sure we saw the sights and ventured to the Big Island to see her daughter in Hilo. Lois knew my mom was in failing health last month and wrote her a letter that she mailed on the day Mom died, June 20. Because it arrived too late, Lois gave me permission to read it now:

“Dear Barbara: Tho I tried many times to phone you, I regret we never connected. And sorry, too, that I have so little time to write and to let you know I’m thinking of you. …

“(I’m) glad that you are where you have good care and love and comfort. You are in my thoughts constantly. ...

"I have many fond memories of our years growing up, despite my constant envy and jealousy. You were always so beautiful and I was the ugly duckling. How I wanted to be like you! …

“And you made friends, good friends, so easily while I was painfully shy. So many thoughts and memories of all kinds flutter and fly through what’s left of my brain. I hope these things race through your head, too, and that you enjoy them. So, Barbara, please know that I’m there with you, care about you and love you very much. Lois.”

Other admirers of my mom have shared their thoughts.

From Nancy Hurd Sampson, a high school classmate of Kevin’s:

“The first time I saw your mother I was 11 years old in the old Rogersville Elementary School auditorium. Before the program began, I heard some animated talk and laughter in the row behind me. I turned around and there was this gorgeous, blonde lady wearing a fur coat. I was mesmerized. It was your mom. She was an interesting, amazing woman.”

From Cindi Cooper Eddy, another childhood friend of mine:

“As I grew up spending most of my spare time with you, of course she became part of my life also. She was always a gracious lady, putting up with the little girl down the dirt road. She opened her home to me as if I was one of her own, which I ‘very much’ needed at times. … I never thanked her for that and wish I had."

In mid-May, I asked my fiancé, Tom, to visit Mom and show her my engagement ring. We had picked it out, but Tom was delaying the proposal until the time was right. I asked him what she thought of the ring, and her reaction was “Beautiful.” Did she say anything else? “Yes,” Tom replied. “She said, ‘Now! Now!’” I asked him: “Are you sure she didn’t say, ‘No’?” But he assured me she said “Now.”

I told Mom shortly before she died that I wanted to get married on her birthday in 2012, on Sept. 15. My cousin Jim, who’s here today, also was born that day, and it’s the day the Catholic Church blessed my parents’ marriage. Hers is not the only birthday that has significance. Father Bowen, born June 24, shares the birthday of Mom’s father, two of my cousins and Kevin’s daughter Angela. I requested that Father Bowen celebrate this Mass for Mom. She always called him a “real” priest.

My brothers last saw our mother in March, when she was still feisty and enjoying life, and she thoroughly enjoyed their visit. Shortly after they returned home, Mom said to me: “I miss them.” She said it on a few other occasions as well. “I miss Brian.” “I miss Kevin.” I told her: “I know, Mom. I miss them, too.”

And now I miss her.

Always.