Carole Press

Carole with an “e” grew up on New York’s Lower East Side, the outgoing, whip smart, and caring second child of Kacul and Tillie Boritz. She graduated high school at age 16 and embarked on a purpose-filled career in nursing that spanned more than 50 years and made a profound impact on countless lives.

Her most enduring love, however, was a handsome young man she met at a high school dance. Sparks flew immediately for Carole and Spencer Press, and that feeling never left them for 65 years.

By all accounts Carole and Spencer were very different. She was bright and beautiful with a big personality. Spencer was quiet and contemplative, the strong silent type – at least until he met her and was drawn into her persistent glow.

Theirs was the unshakable kind of love, filled with slow dances in the living room and a fierce devotion to each other. Theirs was also the kind of love worth fighting for, even in the face of a rare, aggressive, and painful form of cancer.

“Quit” simply wasn’t a word that was part of Carole’s vocabulary.

She became an RN at Mount Sinai at age 19, and worked in the ER, on night shifts, and even as a school nurse all while she and Spencer raised their two sons, David and Rick – first in New York and Connecticut, and then in South Florida. Almost always a working mom, Carole returned to college in her 30s to earn a bachelor’s degree and then a master’s degree in her 40s, positioning her for meaningful work as a patient advocate, educator, health administrator, and an inspector for the state of California in her 60s.

Carole’s other iron-clad commitment was to her family and large circle of friends. She never missed a birthday or bar mitzvah, wedding or anniversary, graduation or job promotion. And she always remembered to check in to hear what was going in your life – the connective tissue that kept friends and family close, even as they spread out across the country, from Chicago to San Diego, South Florida to Fort Worth, Texas.

Spencer occasionally teased Carole that the phone receiver was going to become permanently attached to her ear because she and her big sister, Saundy, called each other every day, often multiple times a day. The dynamic duo and best friends considered it their responsibility to trumpet every family milestone and celebration, mark any passing, ease worries, share memories, and just be grateful for the many blessings their families shared.

The Boritz girls also shared a restless, adventurous spirit and an abiding love of travel. Their shelves and closets were always bursting with finely appointed photo albums – each one carefully notated with dates and rich detail.

Together, Carol and Spencer visited all 50 states – some more than once, especially if there were majestic mountains, iconic museums, and a knife shop Spencer wanted to visit. There always seemed to be a casino or three along Carole’s meticulously planned routes. Funny how that worked out! She’d promise Spencer that she’d only play for a few hands while he got lunch, but inevitably a few hours later she walked out with a stack of hundreds from the Ultimate Poker table and big smile because her winnings would pay for the entire trip!

After traversing the U.S., Carole decided she and Spence would journey to more exotic locales like Stockholm and St. Petersburg, Rome and the Canadian Rockies, Iceland and Israel. The little girl who grew up riding the big city trains all by herself got so much satisfaction out of carefully mapping out each trip and then regaling her family and friends with the recap, the photos, and especially how she had orchestrated the perfect itinerary and landed all the best deals.

Carole’s focus and drive were legendary – she never saw the point in procrastinating.

“Do it now” became a familiar refrain in the Press household, and while her sense of urgency may have come from her background in nursing – at least that was her explanation – she couldn’t abide by anyone close to her waiting to take care of something, big or small.

Need to pay your taxes? “Do it now,” she’d remind David.

Thinking of starting a family? “Do it now,” she’d urge Rick and Liz.

Want to tell somebody close that you’re thinking about them? Or you love them?

Repeat after Carole: “Do it now.”

Of course, her straight talk could veer off course sometimes. But those who loved her most spoke “fluent Carole” and knew she always meant well.

“Is that a new shirt?” she’d ask David. “Kind of tight,” she’d add, hoping he’d get the not-so-subtle hint that she thought he needed to lose weight and protect his health.

One of Carole’s close friends and colleagues described her communication style this way: “On the lungs, on the tongue.” And that was so true. She didn’t have much of a filter. But the same friend added, “With Carole, you always knew where you stood, and I very much appreciated that.”

And Carole could laugh at herself, too. While she never really got the notion of sarcasm or snark, she had thick skin about her shortcomings and quirky contradictions, and she always assumed you were laughing with her. A few examples:

Carole was a proud Jew who embraced religious traditions, but she consistently mispronounced some of the simplest prayers. “Mitzi vanu” became a holiday tradition.

She was a an extremely savvy money manager, but math escaped her. Counting on fingers was Carole’s most reliable form of calculation.

She was a very picky eater and an admittedly lousy cook, especially in those early years when she was working long hours. But “Lumpso” became her specialty, so named by Spencer because the stewed meat was generously described as lumps o’ meat bathed in Lipton onion soup mix.

Carole embraced the things she loved with gusto, whether it was Oreo cookies and John Denver songs, or Chico’s shopping sprees and playing marathon mah jong sessions with her tight-knit group of friends in Fresno. She was an unapologetic doting Jewish mother and grandmother who was deeply invested – sometimes too much – in the lives of her two sons and three grandsons. But she always wanted what wasthe best for the boys, and would even try to will it into existence.

By all accounts her final few years were rough. It started with someone crashing their car through the house she and Spencer shared for 30 years on the ironically named Chance Avenue. Miraculously, the car barely missed them and their three dogs, who were curled up at their feet in the spot where they had spent so many wonderful nights together.

But the trauma took its toll. So did the passing of Saundy in October 2025, and Carole’s own consuming battle with cancer.

Through persistent pain, Carole cheerfully answered each concerned call – and there were a lot of them, every day, from cousins Judy and Arlene, nieces Lisa and Karen, her younger brother, Michael, and friends from Fresno and far away. She’d catch them up on the reconstruction of the house and her latest triumphs at the 500 Club, where she was something of a local celebrity and was always welcomed with big smiles from staff and the regular gamblers.

Sure, she was angry about the “effing cancer” and how it robbed her of so much in the last few months, but she would not let it overshadow the wonderful life she had made for herself, and with Spencer, her family, and all their friends.

Maybe it’s no coincidence that the first part of Carole’s name echoes the word “care,” because that was her defining quality. She chose a profession based on caring for others and excelled at it. She cared deeply about many things – genealogy and final Jeopardy,

reading a well-written novel and staying abreast of the day’s news. Her sweet (and slightly spoiled) pups and her house full of boys – especially her No. 1 guy, whom she adored across the ages.

Carole also cared about leaving the world a better place and making sure you knew how much she cared about you. You could feel it in her hugs.

So, to honor her memory, when you go home today, call an old friend and reconnect. Plan a trip you’ve always wanted to take, play an all-day game of something, snuggle with your dogs, thank a nurse, and pull your family close.

Let them know just how much you love them. And, by all means, “Do it now!”

Carole Press is survived by her husband Spencer, sons David and Rick, daughter-in-law Liz Manion, brother Michael Boritz, grandsons Kevin, Kyle, and Nathan Press, nieces Lisa Gnaidy and Karen Vaisman and their families, nephew Rob Alpert and his family, as well as numerous cousins, friends from near and far, and her beloved pups, Shayna and Trey.

She was preceded in death by her parents, Kacul and Tillie Boritz, and her sister and brother-in-law, Sandra and Walter Alpert. In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation in Memory of Carole Press to Temple Beth-Israel, 6622 N. Maroa Ave. Fresno, 93704.