Jeanne Alice Hinchliffe

Jeanne was born on August 6, 1934, in Masontown, Pennsylvania, to a stay-at-home mother and a coal miner. She was the fourth of five sisters and grew up in a humble home where family meant everything. Her childhood was filled with simple joys- drinking goat’s milk, playing in the creek, running up and down the hills and making memories with her sisters.

At just nine years old, Jeanne experienced the heartbreak of losing her father, the light of her life, to black lung disease. His passing changed her family forever, and they eventually moved to Salem, Ohio, where Jeanne spent her middle and high school years and much of her twenties.

In 1953, at the age of 19, Jeanne married her lifelong love, Robert Hinchliffe. She will forever be his “sweetie”. Together, they built a life, a home, and a family that became Jeanne’s greatest joy and greatest accomplishment. They were blessed with four children: Teri Avril (Jay), Sandi Replogle, Keli Hazel, and Robert Hinchliffe Jr. (Melissa). Jeanne went on to become a grandmother to 10 grandchildren and a great-grandmother to nine great-grandchildren.

But to simply list the names of the people she leaves behind does not begin to describe what Jeanne meant to them. She is their Mom. Their Mimi. Their great-Mimi. Their safe place. Their storyteller. Their teacher. Their keeper of traditions. Their family historian. Their home.

Jeanne was an exceptional writer and always dreamed of being a “girl reporter.” She had a gift for words and a love of telling stories. Although she never became the reporter she once imagined she would be, she found another calling that was every bit as important—raising a family she loved fiercely and completely.

And she did it beautifully.

Jeanne was a full-blooded Italian, and she carried her heritage proudly. God and family were at the center of her life. Her faith was steadfast, and as long as she was healthy, she rarely missed church. She believed that family was not something you simply belonged to—it was something you showed up for, treasured, cared for, protected, and loved.

Sunday night dinners were sacred and transported everyone into old school Italy. If you lived close enough to make it to Jeanne’s house, you were expected to be there. Her home was where everyone gathered, where stories were shared and where nobody left hungry or without happily taking home whatever was leftover. Walking through her door was like stepping into Italy. The smell of her sauce, always made “with love,” filled the house. There was always something cooking, something to talk about, and someone to love and be loved.

And if you were lucky, you might catch Jeanne dancing and humming in the kitchen.

She loved to dance, and some of her happiest moments were spent moving around that kitchen while she cooked. She could turn an ordinary meal into a celebration simply by putting on some music, dancing between the counters, and doing what she loved most—taking care of her family. That was Jeanne.

She found joy in the everyday. She made people feel welcome. She made meals feel like memories. She made a house feel like home. And she made her family feel like they belonged and no matter what life was presenting at the time, everything was right in the world at her table. She taught her children and grandchildren that love isn’t just something you say. Love is commitment. Love is thoughtfulness. Love is making time. Love is gathering around the table. Love is showing up. Love is remembering the little things. Love is feeding people, listening to them, praying for them, and holding them close. Most of all, love is family.

Jeanne's greatest legacy is the family she leaves behind and the values she planted so deeply within them. Her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren will carry pieces of her wherever they go—in their faith, in their traditions, in their kitchens, in their stories, and in the way they love one another.

There will be an empty place at Sunday dinner now but never in the hearts of those she loved. There will be moments when someone catches the smell of sauce cooking and instinctively thinks of her.

There will be music that makes someone remember the way she danced around her kitchen. There will be stories that begin with, “Do you remember when Mom...” and everyone will smile through the tears and years.

Even though Jeanne may no longer be sitting at the table, she will always be part of it. She will live on in every family gathering, every recipe made with love, every prayer, every story, every dance in the kitchen, and every moment her family chooses to love one another the way she taught them too.

For the amazing lady that always wanted to be a “girl reporter,” the greatest and most important story Jeanne ever wrote was the life she created with her family.

A story of faith.

A story of devotion.

A story of laughter, food, dancing, and Sunday dinners.

A story of a woman who gave her heart to her family and never stopped. And what a beautiful story it is.

Jeanne was the heart of her family. She was its glue, its gathering place, its keeper of traditions, and its greatest source and example of unconditional love.

She will be missed more than words can ever say. But she will be loved for generations to come. And that is the legacy of Jeanne Hinchliffe.

A Funeral Mass will be held at All Saints Catholic Church, 2801 Curlew Rd, Clearwater, FL 33761, on October 8, 2026, at 11:00 am.

Burial will take place at Calvary Catholic Cemetery, 5233 118th Ave N, Clearwater, FL 33760, on October 8, 2026, at 12:30 pm.