A Whale of a Welcome

Our first two weeks back in Hoonah have flown by. In a short time, we have had many rich experiences. Here is one..the others will have to wait until the next posting :)

A few hours off the boat and into the house, we spied a whale in the bay. The beautiful creature was blowing, breaching and feeding on herring just off the pier. We were all in awe as we watched him maneuver through the dark water. He created a circular current under the surface and then lunged up with his gigantic hinged mouth to devour hundreds of disoriented, tiny fish. Over and over again he feasted, huffed and arched. He stayed within sight for two hours. It was quite a welcome for us, especially for my mom and a significant reminder to me that miracles happen all the time…I just have to pay attention.

First Day of Fourth Grade

The sun shone brightly on Andrew’s first morning of Fourth grade. He rose early to prepare for the day. He was very excited to see his Hoonah friends and Mrs. Bidiman. After tons of farewell kisses, Steve and Andrew ventured out the door… off to Andrew's first day of Fourth grade.

At the end of the school day Andrew was still all smiles. We did our “usual” and found Steve to give him some hugs and snag some M-n-M's. We left for home, I on foot, Andrew on his scooter. He shared the highlights of his day, we listened to the calls of the ravens flapping over our heads and noticed the colorful fishing boats coming into the harbor.


Andrew started a new school year today, but in many ways I felt as if many things had simply come full circle. He was a year older, but still my same sweet boy riding his scooter through our tiny Alaskan town.

Eight is Great!!!

Tuesday, September 1st was Andrew’s 8th birthday. It is hard to believe it was only 8 short years ago that he was born in a small birthing center on the lower west side of Manhattan. He is a miracle to me….my Broadway baby….and such a blessing to his family. I despise that the moments of his childhood are speeding by so quickly, but I am truly grateful that I am able to share my life with him. I cherish dearly my sweet boy.

Andrew’s birthday landed on a school day, so Mom, Steve and I sought to make every moment count. Steve and I rose early to make Andrew’s favorite breakfast….chocolate-chip pancakes, with sweet syrup and sausage. With balloons, candles and voices ready, we sang happy birthday and surprised our young prince with a breakfast in bed. We all sat in is room, ate flap-jacks and shared the beginning of his special day.

At school we joined him for lunch…He sweetly escorted Grandma from the playground to the lunchroom and kept repeating, “This is the best birthday ever.”

Just before his class went home for the day, I passed out the strawberry cupcakes Andrew and I had made the previous night. Each of his classmates delighted in the yummy treats and were happy to share in Andrew’s birthday wishes.

After school we took a walk along the pier, watched some fisherman fillet some freshly caught halibut and looked for starfish on the rocky beach. We sauntered home and relaxed and then proceeded to whip up all the fixin’s for Taco Tuesday. We prepared a birthday brownie concoction that Andrew named “whale black.” The rich desert reminded him of a killer whale…dark chocolate brownie topped with white frosting and chocolate syrup.

We had a wonderful dinner, dessert and presents. It made my heart feel good to see Andrew so genuinely happy.
For his “only boys allowed” birthday party we waited until Friday. Friday is an early release day with the addition of “open gym” after school. The boys were able to play basketball and roller hockey. At Andrew’s requested, I packed Light Sabers and Nerf Guns, so when they were done with the inside games, they all went outside on the playground to reenact various scenes from Star Wars. We came back to the house for ice-cream cake and presents. It was definitely a boy’s party – lots of fun and lots of action! Proving, once again, that Eight is Great!

The Great Oregon to Alaksa Adventure Begins

Alaksa here we come!


The decision to drive North to Prince Rupert, BC and ferry to Juneau, rather than fly to Alaska, was based on three things; we needed a car(surviving another year in Hoonah without a car was not an option), the cost of ferrying from Prince Rupert was hundreds of dollars less than taking a three day ferry from Bellingham, WA, and the once in a lifetime chance to take a road trip with Mom, Andrew and my Cannon 50D was too good to pass up.

After an intense two weeks of packing, putting the finishing touches on the house (I even planted pansies), forwarding mail, surrendering my house plants to my mom’s neighbor, coaching the children in Children’s Musical Theater of Oregon, taking voice lessons, eating at the Ashland food co-op as often as possible, taking Andrew “rock climbing,” having his friends of over and trying to self medicate my imminent departure with iTunes downloads – we began our great Oregon to Alaska road trip adventure.

We hit the road Thursday late morning after singing a funeral service for a friend of my Mom’s. The truck roared up I-5, loaded down with all our Alaska bound stuff; the covered canopy could barely shut its hatch. When we reached our first stop -- my sister’s house in Jefferson, Oregon – I released the latch to retrieve our luggage and the last items in were the first to come tumbling out.

During our travels, Andrew sat nestled in the back seat positioned between a sleeping bag, pillow, a large box full of snacks, play toys and books. For the nine days on the road Andrew never complained about his cozy hangout, although the running commentary from Mom was a different story. Outfitted in her velvet leisure suit and silver high heels, she was quite challenged by our Ford 150 arrangement. She likes to travel in style and our rugged, high set 4x4 wasn’t her cup of tea. Getting out of the truck meant sliding slowly down and out of the seat… never quite sure where her glamour feet would land. It became such a point of contention that after a mere 28 hours on the road, Mom’s (now in Charbonneu) friend Jackie Johnson gave her step stool to relieve her uncertainty. The accessory made the decent less staggering… although, much more dramatic.


On day number one, we were all very happy and relieved to make it out of Medford and to my sister’s home. We dumped our over night bags at the front door and prepared to kick-back for the rest of the evening. Loree always makes us feel right at home and this time was no exception. Loree, her daughters MaryAnn and Jessica, along with Jessica’s family, prepared a homemade feast. We dined and chatted. We were brought up to date on all seven grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren. Andrew had a great time reconnecting with his cousin James. He and Andrew never take more than a few seconds to pick up right were they left off. The kids played tether ball and Lincoln Log war. After dinner, I snuck out back and took a few pictures of the farmland behind Loree’s house. I even made it in time to catch the sunset.

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.