Day Two: Reunions

We were up bright and early the next morning. Mom had planned a full day in Portland and we were to reach Seattle by dark. We said our good-byes to Loree and MaryAnn and continued north to Charbonneau, a small residential town just south of Portland. Our friends, Bob and Jackie Johnson, had moved to Charbonneau from Medford two years ago to be closer to their grandchildren. Bob and Jackie were very supportive of the arts in the Rogue Valley and we met them through the opera guild. We had a wonderful but short visit; just enough time for hugs, watermelon juice and the reassurance that our friends are thriving in their new community. (Jackie, bless her heart, was the accomplice in the step stool scenario.)


Our next stop was outside of Portland, in a local eatery in Tualatin called Hayden’s. Mom had arranged a spur of the moment high school reunion. Mom attended Holy Child Academy, an all girls Catholic school in Portland with a graduating class of 28 women. Since graduation several of her classmates have moved out of the area or passed away. On this overcast Friday, six fine ladies of the class of ’48 gathered to laugh about old times, share pictures and renew their life-long connection.
(Pictured above- Back Row:, Dorothy Bush-Orth, Shirley Wizer, Ann Marie Zenner-HarringtonFront Row: Katie Joseph, Patty O’Donold and Mom)

Mom also invited my cousin Romie to join us for lunch. Romie is my father’s sister’s daughter. While Mom visited with her high school chums, Andrew and I shared our time catching up with Romie. It was great to see her. Contacts with my father’s side of the family are few and distant…and as Dad always made a point of making time for family visits, there was a deep sense of honoring my father while visiting with Romie.

Day Two: Beloved Memories

After our lunch reunion, Mom wanted to visit her parents' grave sites. Albert and Loretto Weller are buried at Mt. Calvary Cemetery; a beautiful, tranquil place, set in the rolling hills of North West Portland. Mom remembers her mother visiting and caring for the family grave sites at Mt. Calvary when she was younger. I too have grown-up stopping at Mt. Calvary during our many visits to Portland. As we drove the old roads through Mt. Calvary trying to locate the family plots, it was like driving through a familiar childhood neighborhood; innocently nostalgic.

Mom talked to Grandma, sang a few hymns in her honor and spent a few moments in prayer. Andrew, wrapped, in Grandma’s arms, loved listening to Mom sing. He was respectful and caring. When it came time to go, my sweet boy held his Grandma’s hand to help her maneuver back up the steep hill.
We slowly drove out of the cemetery commenting on the impressive old tombstones, statues and family mausoleums; a time representative of different cares and concerns; lives that have seen horrific wars, debilitating diseases, extreme economic conditions; lives that have seen astounding inventions and advancements; lives that were in many ways more simplistic, respectful and abundant.
We crossed from one end of Portland to the other via Burnside Avenue to Willamette National Cemetery where my father is buried. Visiting my father’s grave site was an interesting experience for me. It has been only four years since he died and I find, even now, the events surrounding his passing are so close in my recollection that it feels as if the emotions, events and memories live softly behind my eyes, where images are clear and tears are waiting.

Dad’s plot is right by the last entrance on Outer Drive Loop. Precious birdies atop the road sign lighten the mood as we rounded the curve to the burial site. The area where Dad is buried is lovely. There is a Japanese style meditation garden just a few feet away from his headstone. The view looks out over a large expanse of grass and stone in tribute to the thousands of men and women that have served our country over the years. Mom’s brother, Wilfred Weller, and his wife Nancy are both buried at Willamette National Cemetery.

Mom said hello to her sweetheart and held on to Andrew as she sang a few songs for her “Blue Eyes.” After some quiet time we left with teary eyes and a heavy heart.

When speaking with Romie at lunch, she mentioned that Grandma and Grandpa Leines, my dad’s parents, were buried right across the street from Willamette National. To our surprise Lincoln Memorial Cemetery was literally across the street. It felt strange to have never been there before.

I later discovered that Dad's sister Glady's and her husband Lester Lansing are both buried here, as well as, Allen Hanson, Dad's cousin.

Both Grandma and Grandpa Leines had died long before I was born. Dad’s mother had passed away when he was just twenty-one and Grandpa died when he was thirty years old. I believe that this early loss greatly impacted Dad’s desire to make his family such a fierce priority.

I inquired at the front desk about the location of my Grandparents graves. The receptionist didn’t have a database at her disposal, so she went down to the basement to retrieve the records. She informed us that the cemetery is so old that all records have to be found manually, to put all the grave sites in a computer data base would take two people working full time, two years to complete the task. She returned from the basement with a copy of the two death certificates and a map. Henry Waldimir Leines and Mathilda Hansen Leines are buried on Pine Hill (as silly as it sounds, I couldn’t help but notice the connection to my last name and it made me happy)

In harsh comparison to Calvary and Willamette, Lincoln Memorial was very unkempt. The grass was brown, trees and shrubs were wilting and the graves sites were covered with weeds. I desperately want to tidy up my grandparents graves. Luckily mom had packed a sharp knife for cutting fruit. I wrapped my hand in a washcloth to protect my fingers from thorny weeds. I cut out the roots, pulled the grass and brushed away the compacted clippings from the edges. It looked better, for now. Mom sang “In the Garden” in remembrance of the hymn sung at both Grandpa and Grandma Leines’s funerals. On this day of family connection and strong memories, it was comforting to locate the place where my grandparents were buried. It made me feel closer to my father. I thought of him as young man, so much younger than I am now, standing in that same place decades before, surrounded by his four sisters, mourning the untimely loss of his mother and then later, still younger than I, he, as a husband and a father – grieving for his earthly father, this time, turning to his wife for comfort.
That evening we made our way to Seattle Midtown and fell quickly asleep, the first day of our Seattle adventure was just a few hours away.

Portland Grave Site Information for the Family

For my siblings' benefit, I am going to list the other family members that are buried at Mt. Calvary and their relationship to Grandma Weller and Mom.



Patrick Regan also lived in Chicia and had one daughter, May Regan, who ended up marrying Roy Morris and had two children. Patrick Regan and Hanora Maloney Regan may be buried in Rose City Cemetary.

Patrick Regan’s wife also died. Mr. Maloney and Mrs. Regan’s obituaries were printed in the same paper on the same day.

Patrick Regan and Hanora married and had a son and a daughter; Loretto and LeRoy Regan.

LeRoy Regan “Uncle Bud” was Loretto Regan Weller’s only full brother, and thus is the father to Lenore’s only full cousin: Harriet Regan Cuddy who now resides in Las Vegas, NV. LeRoy’s wife, Dorothy Regan is buried in Las Vegas, NV.

Kathleen and Mary Weller were the baby daughters of Wilfred “Billy” Patrick Weller, Lenore’s only brother, and his wife Nancy Dahler Weller. (Wilfred and Nacy Weller are both buried in Willamette National Cemetary)Lenore mentioned that this plot was to be for Billy, but he chose to use it for his two daughters. The first died of crib death, the second as a preemie. Billy and Nancy Weller had seven children: Patrick, Richard, Danny, Kevin, Michael, Timmy, and Barbara. Danny is deceased.


Willis and Amy Maloney: Willis was Loretto Weller’s half brother. They have one daughter; Margaret Fox.

Harvey and Helen Maloney: Harvey is Loretto Weller’s half brother.
Earl J. and Lyla M. Gallagher: Lyla Maloney Gallagher is Grandma’s older half-sister.
(Harvey, Willis, Tim and Jack Maloney with their mother Hanora Maloney were in Chicia, Minnesota when her husband and their father died. They ran hotel. She was expecting twins (Tim and the other died at birth) Some Maloney’s are buried at Rose City Cemetery in Portland, Oregon.


Joseph H. Gallagher: Son of Auntie Lyla and Earl Gallagher

John E. Gallagher: Son of Lyla and Earl Gallagher, has four children, three live in Portland. Dena, Angela and Michael.

Gertrude “Trudy” Gallagher Beresky married to Tibor, both are currently living in San Luis Obispo is also the daughter of Lyla and Earl Gallagher. They have three children; Michael, Timothy, and Susan.

Scott William Anderson: Is a son of Harvey Maloney’s daughter.
Buried across the street are Dr. Wilfred and Mary Weller, Lenore’s grandparents and Albert Weller’s parents. Dr. Weller had three boys; Albert, Howard and Kavanaugh. Kavanaugh Weller died when he was a young child.

Day Three: From Flying Fish to Family Fun

Before I leaving Oregon, I was so pushed for time that I didn’t do any of my normal navigation planning. I am a person who uses Map Quest as often as I use spell check. I never leave home without a complete agenda and a stack of driving directions, but unfortunately this time, I was winging it.

We bravely headed into downtown Seattle with a loose idea of what we wanted to do and where we wanted to go. Pike’s Market was first on the list. With the AAA map in hand we found the market and a parking lot. We paid $20 for three hours.

The night before when I shared with Andrew the plan for the day, he said, “You hate shopping and we are going to a huge market….that doesn’t make sense.” He was more right than I could admit. I have heard about Pike’s Market for years. The famous fish mongers have made quite a reputation for themselves; drawing tourist audiences from all over the world to watch their fish throwing show.

After we parked we walked a short block into the market. As we sauntered veggie and fruit stands drew my eye. The charming vendors gave out samples of the juicy Bing cherries and hailed their basil as, “the freshest basil you’ll find in Seattle!” The oversized “Pike’s Market” clock above our heads read 9:10 and right below, just inside, was the fish market. People gathered with their cameras, waiting for a purchase to inspire a hefty fish toss from the vendor. Mom talked to the front man and I weaved in and out of the crowd taking in the fare. I really don’t know what I was thinking. This was not a great place for a wanna-be vegan. I felt such pity for the poor fish that ended up on the ice, yet I chose to be there. I gawked at the huge monk fish (whose tail was rigged to be pulled by a chap behind the counter….when pulled the monk fish’s mouth would snap shut and make little girls scream.) Hundreds of live crawfish struggled to escape a huge bucket. I cheered them on; hoping one may find its way back to the ocean.

Also on the first floor was an amazing flower stand. Several ladies worked behind the makeshift counter creating large colorful bouquets to be sold for as little as $15.00. Every flower was perfect, bright and fresh. I stayed and took many pictures but this one of my favorite.

Pike’s Market is three levels of small shops and vendor stalls. Andrew was right, I hate shopping, so after the fish and the flowers, Mom found a seat with a view and Andrew and I walked down to the pier. It was a sunny day and it felt great to get back outside. The trip to the pier was a quick one and soon be went back to find Mom. On our way out Mom, Andrew and I picked out a yummy treat from a bakery vendor: cheese bread for Mom, large chocolate chip cookie for Andrew and for me a cream cheese cannolli. As I reveled in the last sweet bite, I noticed the Pike’s Market clock read 10:10. We handed-off our two hours left on our parking pass to the next Pike’s Market virgin.

The next stop in our loose agenda was the Locks, but I had no idea how to get there. I knew it was somewhere by the water. My land mark was the Space Needle and the AAA map was not helping us navigate (nor was Andrew’s constant parroting “you should have an iphone with GPS Mom.”) The driving antics that took place during this trip were a navigational nightmare; enough to drive anyone batty and this day in Seattle took me half way to looney. We couldn’t find the road to the Locks, so we decided to go to a place we could find: the Space Needle. Mom, in her very nonchalant, matter-of-fact- kind of way wanted me to park right, and I mean right, in front of the Space Needle. If I could have driven to the top, she would have been happy. Mom had me drive around, for what felt like a half an hour, looking for the perfect spot. For anybody that as ever driven in Seattle you know one way streets abound and that every street that you could legally turn on – a turn is not allowed! I was trying so hard not to freak out, but traffic was thick and Mom was sweetly insistent. Finally, after driving in circles around the needle, Mom let me choose a spot. It was a block away. A little worse for wear, we all walked to the tourist trap only to stand in line for 45 minutes. Ahhhh, vacation.

Once at the top of the Space Needle, we all relaxed and took in the panoramic views. Andrew spotted our truck far below us. I saw “The Eagle” a large, red, metal structure that we would visit at the Olympic Structure Park the next morning. The cityscape and the intricate workings of the harbors were quite impressive.

Back on ground, Mom and Andrew devoured a messy chili dog, we went on a mini roller coaster ride and Andrew took a spin on the Tornado.

Before we left the Seattle Space Needle Center Mom hailed down an official looking person and found out accurate directions to the Locks. Thank goodness she did. It was about a 20 minute drive out of the city. The Locks were one of the highlights of the trip.

Walking into the park I felt immediately at ease. The tall trees, the large expanse of green grass and the knowing that hundreds of heca-acres and botanical gardens all lay before me were of great comfort. A senior citizen jazz band was playing in the cool shade of the garden. Mom picked her seat just in time to take in the music. Andrew and I took off to explore the grounds.

We found the museum and watched a short video on the history of the Locks, as well as playing with some of educational displays. Outside we were lucky enough to see many boats traveling through and maneuvering the locks. We were in awe; it was an engineering miracle at work.

Andrew and I walked a few yards and journeyed underground to view the fish ladder and hundreds of strong salmon traveling up stream.

Mom came out to watch the boats, Andrew joined her and I took pictures of the amazing flowers in the garden. We all loved the Locks!

The slow pace of The Locks was soon put inot high gear as we were to meet my sister Lisa and her family in Issaquah for Mass at 5:30. We left Seattle at 4, hit rush-hour traffic and even got lost! Thankfully, we found the church...with help from Lisa’s husband Jim, and we found a cushy spot in the pew just in time for the reading of the Gospel. Whew!

That evening we ate copious amounts of delicious Mexican food at Si Casa Flores in Issaquah. Lisa, Jim, their two boys; Hank and Byron, and Jim’s mother, Dolores and husband John joined us in the revelry. It was a wonderful dinner with great conversation and yummy entrees. We so enjoyed hearing about the goings on of my nephews, Hank and Byron and catch up with both Lisa and Jim, Dolores and John.

.....in the lobby of Si Casa Flores, as we waited to be seated, I innocently posed a question to Jim that later became a “major” highlight of our trip….

Day Four: A Perfect Day

Friday night, Mom, Andrew and I drove up I-5 and made our initial ascent into the metropolis of Seattle.

The beautiful, big-city skyline was a dot-to-dot of multicolored lights. The prim and proper outline of the Space Needle held its own among the masculine skyscrapers, arching bridges and moving headlights, but what drew our attention most was the glow from SAFCO field. Andrew was fixated on the attraction. He knew that inside those high walls someone was a hitting a home run or throwing a winning pitch. I off handedly said, “We need to ask Uncle Jim if there is a game this weekend. Maybe we could get tickets.” Little did I know that when I did present the question before dinner…after dinner Jim would work the miraculous. Uncle Jim made the impossible, possible.

Yes, we spent day four of our trip at a sold out game of the Seattle Mariner vs. the New York Yankees!

It was a perfect day.

We first drove to Issaquah to meet Jim and Byron. Mom spent the day shopping with Lisa and then napping on Lisa’s couch. (It was perfect day for her too) Andrew and I hopped on the bus with Jim and Byron and for a few quarters we all traveled traffic and hassle free within a few blocks of the field. We picked up our tickets at Will Call and made our way up the steep escalator and through the large outer hallways of stadium. From my perspective we had the best seats in the house; they gave us a beautiful perspective of the all the action happening on the field.

Each time A-Rod or Derek Jeter came up to bat or made a catch…Andrew would turn to me and shoot me a smile full of sheer joy. Being born in New York, Andrew has Yankee in his blood. He knows the history, the best players and the most current Yankee celebrities. As far as he was concerned, we had a box seat in heaven. It was a fun game with a rambunctious crowd. The Mariner's fans that surrounded us "booooooed" loudly every time A-Rod was up to bat. Music filled the stadium and different chants carried through the masses of baseball lovers.

The excitement was contagious.

Both teams played well. The score was even for most of the innings. In the last inning the Mariners charged ahead and left the Yankees in the dust with a four run lead. The final score being 7 – 11.

Thanks Uncle Jim for a "major" day of fun!