George Sam Sichanis

The son of Greek immigrants, George was born September 30th, 1930, at Lutheran Hospital on Fairfield. In those days, they charged $100 to give birth, which his parents paid out of pocket since there was no such thing as insurance.

George led a distinctive life, greatly influenced by his Greek heritage. He loved to talk about his remarkable father whose name was a flip-flopped version of his own (a common practice in Greek culture). George Sam was the son of Sam George.

Born in Greece in the late 1880’s, Sam’s early American journey reads like an epic movie plot. He was kidnapped by the Turks during a border raid in 1915 and forced to join their military. By the grace of God, he escaped his violent captors and fled to America.

Sam’s intent was always to be reunited with his wife Thomae, but after docking at Ellis Island, totally alone and broke, he went to work in Montana building railroads in an effort to get back on his feet. He soon jumped into a better job at a bakery, learning everything he could about it. Eventually, he saved enough money to start his own bakery and pay for his wife to arrive by steamship - an extraordinary feat considering Sam didn’t speak English and was uneducated. Little did he know, the business sense he was blessed with would be passed on to his future son, George, in greater abundance.

After Thomae finally reached the U.S., the young, childless couple eventually ended up in Fort Wayne, Indiana, where Sam established Eagle Bakery on Wells Street. It is presumed they drifted here to join a small, growing Greek population.

For many years, Thomae was barren, longing to be a mother. She’d all but given up hope when God answered her prayer in 1927 with a darling daughter, Virginia. Three years later, when Thomae was 44, she welcomed their only son, George.

The Sichanis family lived in the North Highlands neighborhood, close to some relatives who had also emigrated from Greece, melting the 2 families into one large clan.

On special occasions, all 10 of the God-fearing Greeks piled into a 1936 Desoto to attend an Orthodox service in South Bend. It was a long, loud, jam-packed, un-airconditioned ride to the church where the masses were spoken in Ancient Greek. Young George only knew English and Modern Greek, but his mother was a particularly devout and prayerful woman who intentionally passed her faith on to her children. It was a display that would impact him more and more deeply as time rolled on.

George always remembered the comforting aroma of his dad's shop, Eagle Bakery, and how hard Papa worked to maintain that business during the Depression. Sam would rise at 2 am each morning and go there to mix the dough, then come back home for a few hours to sleep while it rose. He’d return to bake fresh bread and buns all day, which were sold to walk-in customers and local restaurants. On special occasions, young George would go along on deliveries with Papa to spots like Coney Island Hot Dogs, (owned by Macedonians), which was right next door to Long Island Hot Dogs, (owned by Greeks). The place with the better wiener won out over ethnic loyalty. Senior and Junior would hop a stool at the Coney Island counter and order up a couple of hot dogs (wrapped in Papa's bakery buns) and a Coke for two bits. George’s last visit was in the fall of 2024, the cherry on top of hundreds of returns to this nostalgic location on Main Street, still a thriving joint, for a trip down memory lane and a few of the most famous chili dogs in town.

George never forgot another favorite pastime: as a wee tot, on Saturdays, his sister Virginia took him by the hand for the mile and a half trek to catch the weekly double feature at Wells Theater, where little Georgie struggled to peel off and eat the gum wads from under the seats. It's no wonder he would later invent products to easily remove gum from upholstery.

Back then, his warm and wonderful Papa would take the whole family on joy rides in his panel truck after dinner every night, almost to Churubusco and back. About twice a week, they'd stop at Miller's Dairy Barn for a drive-in movie and ice cream. TV wasn't invented yet, so families spent more time interacting, and George grew very fond of his dad. He wanted to go the bakery with Papa so badly sometimes, he’d climb up into the bed of his truck and hide in the utility box. Sam always seemed to know when George was along for the ride, so he’d swerve about wildly as his young son slid around in the box, banging off the walls. George loved it and would make it a point one day to mimic Papa's prankish nature.

He never forgot a very vivid encounter with his dad, who enjoyed smoking cigars on a rare occasion. One day, George asked if he could try it, and without hesitation, Sam gave him the cigar. Papa watched with amusement while his young son turned green and instantly hurled his lunch, knowing full well the boy would never want another one. From then on, George hated even the smell of cigars.

During Papa’s many working years, from railroad to bakery, he grew very strong, tossing around 100 lb bags of flour like they were feathers. George marveled at how muscular and invincible his dad seemed, but suddenly, at the age of 54, and without any prior episodes, Papa died of a heart attack on July 5, 1943. Young George was devastated. His uncle died a few months before his dad, so there wasn’t a father figure in sight. Their favorite family pastimes went up in smoke and money was very tight.

His freshly widowed mother would not accept charity, so she prayed a lot, then decided she must sell the bakery and their only vehicle, Papa's panel truck. She got a job with Fort Wayne Tailoring, sewing collars onto coats for a small wage per collar. Virginia also found work. Then 12-year-old George permanently entered the workforce with a part-time job at Family Theater on Main Street, earning 12 cents an hour taking tickets and popping corn until 9pm most nights. He then rode the 5-cent streetcar home and rose early each morning to attend Franklin Grade School.

After six months at Family Theater, George left for a slightly better-paying job as a busboy, cleaning tables and washing dishes. He had a restlessness that propelled him to try an array of uniquely different jobs, slowly moving up, until he found the ‘right’ fit.

Post busboy, it was Western Union, delivering telegrams on a bike, then Greenblattes’ Furs, as a courier. Then he and his sister Virginia were hired together and fired together at Murphy's Dime Store. George would tell you it was all a big misunderstanding.

From there, he worked for Bonton Bakery where he was asked to make a simple “CLOSED” sign for the door. His prankishness was fully revealed when instead he produced a sign that said, “KEEP OUT. This means YOU!” It wasn't long before he was looking for another new job.

He landed at a hobby shop after that, selling model planes and thus igniting a fascination with flight. When they went out of business, he dolefully moved on to Baber's Jewelry Store, then became a stock boy at Hillman's China shop on Jefferson.

Now, his Mama never learned to drive, so after Papa died, George either walked, hitched, rode a bus, streetcar, or a motorized “Wizard” bicycle to work and everywhere.

By 1949, as a senior at North Side High School, he had saved enough money to help Mama buy the family's first car. The only vehicle up to that point had been Papa’s panel truck, so this was a very big deal. George taught himself to drive and got a real thrill out of cruisin’ around town like a big shot in the lightly used ‘46 Desoto. Thus began his life-long love affair with automobiles.

Upon graduating from North Side, class of 1950, he pursued his highest-paying job yet at Salisbury Axle, (now called Dana) on West State. When asked if he was a welder, he blurted, “Yup!” without hesitation. He had never welded a thing in his life, but how hard could it be? He showed up the first day wearing a thin, short-sleeved T-shirt. His co-workers scoffed, “You gonna weld like that?” After he burned holes all over his shirt and reddened his arms from the heat, the lesson was learned. Pride aside, his gumption prevailed, and at 19 years-old, he held the highest-paying blue-collar job in Fort Wayne, earning $100.00 a week.

When the Korean War broke out months later, rather than be drafted, George joined the Air Force, hoping to land a cool job as ‘Radar Technician’ or the like. Instead, he got the not-so-suave ‘Dental Assistant’. Based in Merced, California, he wound up loving the job and developed a great rapport with his dentist boss, Dr. Schram, at Castle Air Force Base. Though he never fought on the front lines of the 38th parallel, he did fight tooth decay, so hats off to that. He was honorably discharged at the age of 22 and returned home to reinvent himself and consider settling down with a nice girl.

So in 1959, when George Sichanis was 28 and fully recovered from a broken wedding engagement, his good friend and fellow Greek, George Stremenos, decided it was time to play Cupid. Stremenos worked at the soda counter in Randall Market on Harrison Street and often noticed recent North Side graduate, Miriam Esther Roberts, perched gracefully on a stool sipping Coke during her break from the beauty supply shop ‘round the corner. Stremenos told George about the lovely young lady, who went by her middle name, Esther. “There's this sweet girl who comes in here all the time. I'll tell her about you,” he said. Because Stremenos had such a wonderful wife, George trusted his friend’s judgement and gave Esther a call. Her curiosity about this mysterious Greek was piqued.

Since George was staunchly opposed to dating girls outside a 20-mile radius, it was a good thing Esther lived just a few blocks down from his house. He believed most the girls he’d met up to this point were not worth the time or the gas. In fact, his last blind date was such a disappointment that when he laid eyes on the poor thing, he picked her up, then promptly dropped her off again after making four right turns around the block. (He felt bad about that, and a few other things, for the rest of his life.)

Stremenos must have assured him that Esther's looks qualified for more than four right turns, so George went to meet her for the first time at her house on Jesse Street in his brand new '59 Buick Convertible. The devoutly Christian young lady and her mother Cebe, also a strong woman of faith, welcomed him into their home.

When George first saw Esther glowing by the sofa in a wide-swing skirt with a winning smile to match, he was immediately smitten. She was exactly the kind of girl he’d been looking for all his life. Sweet, soft spoken, gentle, classy, perfectly coiffed, and with an inner beauty that matched the outer, Esther thought George was tall, dark, handsome, ambitious and impeccably dressed for success. They were a match made in Hollywood.

After a nice time chatting over coffee that day at Gardener's Drive-In on the corner of Jefferson and Harrison, they began dating exclusively. Things got serious fast, and she swiftly dumped her high school sweetheart for the older, gorgeous Greek.

As fate would have it, a few months later, when the love-struck couple were driving through town in George’s open convertible, he turned to her out of the blue and said, “So what kind of wedding do you want?”

When he was 29 and she was 20, George married the love of his life on June 18th, 1960, at beautiful Trinity Episcopal Church on Berry Street, in the heart of Fort Wayne. The Orthodox groom and Pentecostal bride later compromised and attended Cedar Creek Church of Christ in Leo for many years, where Esther led congregational hymns on piano.

As the newlyweds settled into married life, George's longest held job as a salesman for Colgate-Palmolive was on the downward spiral. After eight years and mounting frustrations, he decided that he needed to be his own boss. In 1964, the very early gears of what would one day become Craft Laboratories slowly began to turn, when George noticed an ad in the paper for Certified Chemicals. He saw a market for industrial cleaning products in Fort Wayne, took a few courses at IPFW, got a job at Certified and learned all he could about the business.

Concurrently, he joined the Fort Wayne Auxiliary Police, serving as a part-time lieutenant under Captain Gephart. Issued a helmet, badge and billy club, George felt a Chuck Norris sense of power most young men only dream about.

During this time, he also designed and built a classic 60’s split-level home in Concordia Gardens on North Clinton, acting as head contractor. Perhaps the most exciting season of his thirties, he worked closely with Amish builders, drove them to and from the site, and did some of the work himself. Esther was the organizer and decorator who put on the finishing touches and kept the place pristine. The two made beautiful houses together.

In the basement of their American dream on 2032 Parkland Drive, he began experimenting with chemicals, creating some all-purpose cleaning products of his own. His first attempts failed to create anything worth selling, but as he learned more and kept trying, his tenacity paid off. He whipped up a product that could compete with the quality of Certified. Their stuff was great, but expensive. A die-hard capitalist, he was challenged to produce something just as good but sell it for less....and he did.

The timing couldn't have been better. Burgeoning businessman became flourishing family man on February 1st, 1965, when Esther gave birth to their first daughter, Jodie, a bouncing brunette with Dad's dark eyes and Mom's sweet nature.

Thriving in all arenas, George incorporated his chemical business in 1968 and called it Craft Laboratories.

Not long after Craft was born, so was his second daughter Stacy, on July 4, 1969, a curly blonde firecracker with Mom’s hazel eyes and Dad’s spunk. Moments following a particularly arduous birth, George informed his semi-conscious wife that they just had another girl. He asked, “What do you think the next one’ll be?”

“A mistake!!” she groaned.

As the completed family of four settled into a happy routine at home, Craft was slowly expanding from just 12 chemical products to include the distribution of heavy-duty cleaning equipment and janitorial supplies. In 1973, he built the plant that still operates today at 1901 Lakeview Drive.

From the beginning, his most lucrative account was Ryder Trucking, though it required some travel in the tri-state area. George had always dreamed of flying, so he became an instrument-rated pilot, soaring all over the Midwest, maintaining the Ryder accounts. Later in life, he would also fly his girls to and from college in Missouri, and their all-time favorite fun spot, Walt Disney World in Orlando. In fact, their happiest family memories were made there, starting in 1971 and spanning over four decades.

Back on the home front, around 1979, the family moved to a new construction in Woodmont on Dupont Road. Again, George and Esther played a heavy part in its planning and execution. The charming English Tudor was nestled in the trees and became the hub for family and friends' gatherings for the next 35 years. Around 1986, he and Esther also remodeled a condo on Clearlake in Fremont, tackling the bulk of the work themselves. Soon after, the empty nesters were beckoned to snowbird in Naples, Florida, a routine they enjoyed for the next 27 winters. They also traveled the U.S. and the world by car, plane, train, RV, and cruise ship, creating a lifetime of beautiful memories exploring the world together.

Besides travel, George loved to entertain friends and family, play golf, cuddle up with Esther in front of the TV, try new restaurants and movies, spoil “Fritz” the family Schnauzer; drive boats, motorcycles, water skis, jet skis, and snowmobiles; buy bulk from Sam's club and shoot at unsuspecting woodpeckers.

Along life’s way, he also found time to serve on school boards and several neighborhood associations, but all his proud mentions and business achievements pale in comparison to his dedication to family. Sometimes formidable, and often affectionate, he was always a strong protector and provider like his dad before him.

Most notably, his love story with Esther stood the test of time. When she developed early-onset Alzheimer's at 64, George became her primary caregiver. Besides attending to her every need for more than a dozen years after her decline began, his tenderness and newly acquired patience was a testament to his vow to keep her in sickness and in health. His singular purpose became to make her as happy and comfortable as possible. Knowing how much she loved music, he would sit with her every evening watching the same Laurence Welk and Gaither gospel videos over and over and over again because she delighted in it. Even a mild stroke he suffered in 2016 couldn't keep him from tucking her in at night. The comfort she drew from him through her darkest times sustained her ‘til the end, in May of 2017. They were married just shy of 57 years.

As his last days on earth approached, George still ached for Esther and spoke of his cherished wife with the highest of praise, often crediting her faith, prayers, and the goodness of God for the many blessings his family was given.

Growing more and more reflective on the things that really matter, he had frequent, meaningful conversations with his family about being right with Lord. He thrived around people and attended church faithfully despite his decreasing mobility. And lastly, ever the consummate businessman, George continued to go to Craft Laboratories every day in a crisp button-down shirt until 10 days before he died.

George could have easily been touted as a “Self-Made Man”, and when he was in his prime, he would have liked that. But over his 94 years of life experience, he ultimately learned that all the success, prestige, good deeds and church-going in the world mean nothing without God’s forgiveness, the forgiveness of others, and fully embracing the transforming, unconditional love of Jesus Christ, our Savior.

George is survived by his sister Virginia Karalis, 97, of Mahwah, New Jersey; his daughter Stacy Munsie, (Bill) of Fort Wayne, Indiana, and grandchildren Braden and Jessica; and daughter Jodie Harrup (Scott) of Springfield, Missouri, granddaughter Lindsay Harrup Carter (Anthony) and great-grandson Samuel; grandsons George Connor Harrup and Austin Harrup (Emaleigh) of Watertown, New York.

George is preceded in death by his wife, Esther.

A Greek service for George will be held at 7:00pm Friday, January 24, 2025, with viewing prior, from 6:00pm to 7:00pm, at Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church (110 E. Wallen Road, Fort Wayne). Another brief service to honor George will be at 1:00pm Saturday, January 25, with viewing prior, from 11:00am to 1:00pm, at Greenlawn Funeral Home (5760 Covington Road, Fort Wayne). The service will be directly followed by entombment at Greenlawn Memorial Park, (adjacent).

Memorial donations in George’s honor may be directed to Convoy of Hope.

convoyofhope.org/initiatives/childrens-feeding

A special thank you to D.O. McComb & Sons for their compassionate and thoughtful funeral arrangements.