Honoring the Life and Legacy of
Dr. Yvonne Richardson Kerek
Biography
The Long Road From Jacinto, Mississippi:
Celebrating the Life of Yvonne Kerek
It was a life of adventure, of seeking and finding the interesting and the beautiful in life, at times in defiance of what may lie ahead. Even her birth was a bit of a precarious affair, as her mother declined to go to the hospital, and by the time a doctor materialized in their isolated rural abode in northeastern Mississippi, he had to give the family a choice: it’s either the baby or the mother. Both won’t survive. Choose one. Date: July 6, 1936.
But they both were survivors, and by the time Yvonne would have begun to learn language with a charming southern drawl, her family had long moved on from Jacinto. She grew up to be a Yankee girl, a woman of many talents and interests, with an awe of nature’s miracles and an insatiable appetite to explore them. She lived a rich and rewarding life of imagination, discovery, and accomplishment.
In the early days, the road was bumpy, figuratively and literally. During World War II, her father would press his small family into their 1938 Plymouth sedan and hit the road toward the west, hoping to find employment. A surviving list of their consecutive addresses in several states in those days fills a page. Yvonne would have to change schools sometimes more than once during a school year, and to face the disadvantages of being the “new kid on the block”.
But the summers were always set aside for Yvonne and her brother Kenneth to spend on the Richardson farm in Jacinto, just up the small hill from her birth cabin. The six or so years of summer vacation at grandmother Arrie Dell’s and grandfather Papa Doc’s place were the happiest and most formative in her young life, spending the days playing with Ken and their first cousin Jack, exploring the farm, or following grandmother around in her kitchen or garden. Decades later (2011) she wrote down her vibrant recollections of those childhood summers in the book “Memories of Jacinto”, which also includes the results of her meticulous research into her ancestry, tracing the Richardson and Mullinex families back to the 17th century.
As a “city kid”, Yvonne was fascinated by all the curiosities you can find on a farm and became an avid collector of nature’s castaways like unusual nuts, leaves, and dauber nests, which she eventually displayed in her own “museum” in an abandoned old shed. This collector instinct accompanied her through her life, in part into exotic bazaars and markets, in pursuit of “interesting” relics like Mosque toppers and exorcism medallions and Napoleonic cannon balls, which became part of her home’s décor. Stunning seashells too, collected on beaches from Florida to the Emirates, fueled her fascination. But even more so, she became a passionate collector of fossils and a well-informed amateur paleontologist, a pursuit that slowly turned her home into another “museum”. Her attraction to fossils reached back to the creek bed running through the backyard in Oxford, Ohio, a happy home in Locust Street for her family for some 20 years (1968-88), where she would casually pick up 400+ million year-old horn corals as fun curiosities. By the time of her years of retirement in Florida, Yvonne’s ardent interest in tracking down, identifying and displaying fossils knew no limits.
Her passion for hunting down interesting fossils showed another side of her character—a lack of fear or concern for the dangers she faced at times when challenging forbidding boundaries, like a sinkhole in Florida, rogue waves on Hawaii’s rocky coast, steep ravines in the desolate Badlands of Nebraska. She survived such encounters thanks to her incredible luck— perhaps the same asset that pulled her through her birth fiasco and several dire threats to her health during her lifetime.
Professionally, Yvonne was an educator, a leaning that she first tested as a teacher at her former school, Davison High School in Michigan, after graduating from Kalamazoo College in the late 1950’s. At the time she was still exploring other career paths including joining the Air Force, but the prospect of becoming a teacher for life “stuck”. After her marriage to Andrew Kerek in August 1963 and the couple’s move to Oxford, Ohio, where Andy started his new job at Miami University, Yvonne too landed a teaching position at Lakota High School, and for years to come, and at different venues, she taught at several grade levels, including special classes for learning-disabled children. While teaching during the daytime, each semester she also regularly enrolled in an evening class at Miami’s Education School, and in due course earned a Master’s Degree in Educational Psychology, followed by a Ph.D. in Educational Leadership in 1991. With the doctorate in hand, the following year she taught education-related courses full time at Defiance College in Ohio, and after moving to Egypt with Andy in 1992, she taught part time in the Psychology department at the American University in Cairo, where Andy was provost.
Memories of the seven years that Yvonne and Andy spent in Cairo (the first year with the kids as a “Fulbright family” in 1979-80) held a special place in Yvonne’s heart. They both remembered their time there as “the best years of our life”. Daily life in a truly exotic country with a rich history, among spirited, welcoming people, offered them a view of the world that changed their lives. For Yvonne, prime food for the spirit was the majesty of the desert—the milieu of the soul-liberating vista to escape to from the tumults of the city—but not the least the lure of the scattered relic fragments still to be found in the sand from pharaonic times, adventures that earned her the epithet “Sakkara Bag Lady” from her treasure-hunting friends. But wherever “treasures” were to be found in Cairo, Yvonne was there, often visiting her shop-keeper friends in the sprawling Khan-El-Khalili bazaar to check out new indigenous silver-jewelry supplies from the villages, or venturing out to the city’s giant Friday flea market, where you could find anything—sometimes quite valuable “junk” too—that Cairo had thrown away.
For Yvonne, her escapades and a treasure trove of experiences in Egypt would have been hard to beat for rewarding and lasting memories, but her travels in the world mostly with Andy during their almost 60 years of marriage and companionship also remained an endless source of nostalgic reminiscences. Her first trip abroad at age 19—a year-long stay with her father at an American air base in Morocco, where he worked—had already whetted her appetite for travel abroad; with Andy, they visited some 50 countries on 5 continents, including frequent trips to Andy’s native Hungary and year(s)-long residences in Germany and the United Arab Emirates, in addition to Egypt. They returned much better educated about what the rest of the world was like, but also with fond memories of often hilarious adventures. Later on they collaborated in gathering a sampling of salient episodes from their travels in an unpublished book “The Camel’s Revenge: 101 Funny and Funny-Ha-Ha Travel Stories from Around the World”. testimony to the truism that when you travel, “anything can happen”. A similar token of their meanderings is the pictorial collection “People We Met Along the Way”, featuring Yvonne’s talents for portrait photography.
Her artistic talents would deserve a separate chapter. Even as a young girl, she would often be summoned to sing to entertain the guests at Sunday gatherings at her grandparents’ place in Jacinto, and at least one (albeit poor quality) surviving recording from the 1950s of an aria from La Traviata testifies to her beautiful soprano voice at the time. But her talents for art were wide-ranging, even if she did not push them beyond experimentation. Among her paintings and drawings, the iconic covered bridge of Oxford, Ohio is especially noteworthy, along with her landscape depiction of Lake Balaton in Hungary. Her eyes for composition and arrangement come through in the folderful of prints from a black-and-white photography class she took at Miami University, and her snap shots of moments in the natural world, like those of a “flying” dolphin in Estero Bay, FL, are priceless. Her skills in pottery show up in a small pot she spontaneously created in the workshop of a local professional potter in the Hungarian village of Nadudvar, at his invitation, in addition to pieces she had made earlier for members of her family (including a cute turtle). And her dabbling in silversmithing resulted in an attractive collection of silver jewelry, which gave her the opportunity to use some of her fossils and other collected stones for fillers.
Yvonne was also an avid reader, as well as a researcher and writer. One of the great tragedies of her life was a stroke in 2015 that completely wiped out her ability to read and that subsequent therapy could not restore. Years before then, she would always have a book by her bedside, including murder mysteries, and, while in Egypt, she was so tickled to meet and get to know Barbara Mertz, author of the Elizabeth Peters and Barbara Michaels mysteries, whose every book she must have read. When asked to sign one of Yvonne’s well-worn paperbacks, Barbara jotted down “Stop loaning my books”.
But Yvonne wore out other books as well, most notably the 24 adolescent novels that she used as texts for analysis in her doctoral dissertation titled “Changing Family Structure and Teen Attitudes/Behaviors as Reflected in Selected Works of Adolescent Literature 1950-55 to 1980-85”. With several decades of experience in the trenches, she was the right person to address this subject. Yvonne was also a diligent note keeper during travels, and at least a dozen well-worn handwritten notebooks full of spontaneous comments and acute observations are waiting to refresh memories.
Throughout her life, Yvonne was a loving and caring mother to her and Andy’s two children, Michael (“Bundy”) and Viki. The decline of her health in recent years, and especially months, only strengthened the bonds and the children’s loyalty to and support for their mother. When the end came in the early hours of Sunday, January 22, 2023, all three members of Yvonne’s immediate family were by her bedside to wish her peace. She will no doubt approve that, 86 years later, a sampling of her ashes will reunite with the earth of Jacinto, Mississippi and of Locust Street, Oxford, Ohio.
Photo Gallery (1936-1985)
Photo Gallery (1986-2010)
Photo Gallery (2011-2023)
Yvonne’s Artistic Side
Yvonne dabbled in various forms of art over the years. Most notably, she was an avid amateur photographer. The photographs displayed here represent only a minute (our favorites) sampling of her 1000s of beautiful photos taken from all over the world. She loved to take pictures of people and nature the most. One can’t imagine how many photos of birds and flowers we have in the stacks of her photo albums we now cherish. Yvonne also drew, painted, created jewelry, and made pottery. We are fortunate to have a sampling of these treasures through photos displayed on this site. We don’t have many relics of the other forms of art Yvonne loved; our memories will have to suffice. She sang, dried flowers and leaves into artistic displays, including many four-leaf clovers. She had a knack for looking down and picking them up without (it seemed) even looking. She made insect, rock, shell, fossil and even scrap metal displays, blended and colored wax to create impressive wax cupcakes, made Halloween costumes, wrote poems and short stories, and made graphite rubbings in Westminster Abbey in London. The list goes on. The artistic side of Yvonne is integral to the essence of her soul, and we are happy to share it with you in her memory.
- Key to image names:
- EX = Exhibitions
- JE = Jewelry
- PA = Paintings
- PO = Pottery
- PH = Photography
Stories
Friends, family and acquaintances, please send us your funny stories, cherished memories, or joyful anecdotes about times you’ve spent with Yvonne. We would like to feature your stories here. Send those stories to Andy’s attention at “yakerek (at) hotmail (dot) com”
Dodging the Bullets (by Andy Kerek)
On our overnight train ride from Beijing to Xian in the 1990s, we befriended our Chinese sleeping-compartment mate, who turned out to be a doctor. At one point she examined our palms and concluded that while I may have a fairly healthy life ahead, Yvonne was likely to have serious health issues down the road. Sadly for Yvonne, the doctor was right.
But, amazingly, until dementia and Alzheimer’s gradually consumed her mind and body in her mid-80s, Yvonne was able to dodge the bullets and survive her close calls, with a clean surgery for her colon cancer and only a broken collar bone after a head-long plunge down the staircase, and without further paralysis after a stroke destroyed her reading vision. But her remarkable ability to defy potential disasters without major penalty extended well past issues of her health, especially to her adventures when hunting for fossils or shells. When stuck in quicksand in a quarry or backing blindly toward a large shark fin cruising past the shell-rich shallows in Florida, or sucked into the Pacific by giant rogue waves off Hawaii, or disappearing and almost abandoned in the forbidding Badlands of Nebraska, Yvonne never seemed overly concerned. “Weren’t you afraid, Honey?” “Oh, I figured you guys would rescue me eventually.”
Luckily, we were able to, but this combination of fearless naiveté and independence yet dependence in her character was a source of both awe and anguish for me through the years. It seemed that fear and caution were not a priority for her. She just didn’t think about adverse consequences. What counted was the outcome. If the fossils or shells she wanted were in her hands, it was worth it. A fanatic collector at heart, she went for the rewards. When, after her cancer surgery, they wouldn’t let her keep the large tumor that had just been taken from her body, she asked at least for a photo of it. And, speaking of rewards, just out of the OR, her first question was, “Is there a Chinese restaurant nearby?”
Cup of American Coffee (by Andy Kerek)
At one point in her life Yvonne drank a lot of coffee, but when visiting Budapest in the 1970s, she found the Hungarians’ beloved espresso coffee too strong and—just a sip at the bottom of a tiny demi tasse—way too little.
So in the coffee shop of an international hotel she asked the waiter if he could possibly bring her an American cup of coffee. The man was happy to oblige, and when Yvonne spotted him bringing an American-size cup on a tray, she exclaimed, “Hey! He’s got it!”
But, alas, when her cup of coffee was put in front of her, her face froze: it was an American-size cup with a sip of killer Hungarian espresso at the bottom.
Nowadays you can get any kind of coffee in cosmopolitan Budapest, in any size cup, but the light-hearted memory of that early disappointment remained with her for years to come.
The Rebel Woman (by Andy Kerek)
As a liberated woman from a democratic country, Yvonne resented the restrictions and harassments she sometimes encountered during our travels because of her gender. She never came to terms with being herded into a place of worship with other women through a secondary side door, like in Cairo, while the crowns of creation strutted in through the front door. And in Damascus, she protested loudly when forced to wear a much used, smelly sack over her head to be allowed to enter one of the most famous mosques in the world.
But it wasn’t any particular religion whose codes of conduct for females brought her into conflict with guardians of religious propriety. She had run-ins with bouncers in other religious settings as well, like in a Coptic church in Cairo, where she was forced to uncross her legs and to “sit properly,” or at the Jewish Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, where she was ordered to move from a stone slab she was sitting on, because her feet were “in the men’s section.”
In Saudi Arabia, she muted her protest when sent from the men’s to the women’s counter to get her coffee at McDonald’s.
Cannonball on the Jumbo Jet (by Andy Kerek)
Who else but Yvonne would carry a cannonball on board in our jumbo jet taking us from Cairo to New York? In those days, in the 90s, inspections were a lot more relaxed, especially outside the U.S., and apparently no one stopped her at the airport. The 3-inch solid iron cannonball had come from Cairo’s colorful Friday flea market, where fascinating tell-tales of the city’s eventful history turned up from time to time, in this case possibly from as far back as the Napoleonic wars. She wasn’t about to leave her precious find behind. The ball was in a light handbag, which she stashed under the seat for take-off.
With its four monstrous engines roaring, the 747 picked up speed and then its nose lifted into the air. At that moment gravity proved to be too much for the ball and it caused the handbag with its heavy cargo to roll and tumble down the aisle toward the back, startling some passengers. A cannonball on a plane? Today, the TSA would still be interrogating her.
Pudding Cups (by Viki Kerek)
In 1997 when I was pregnant with Alex, my family was living in a house on French Drive in Oxford, OH that Mom and Dad had bought to store their belongings while they were in Egypt. Unfortunately, earlier that year Mom discovered that she had a malignant tumor in her abdomen and they had to return to Oxford for surgery. The tumor was successfully removed but she remained behind for chemotherapy. Dad had to return to Egypt for work. It was during this time that Mom had an MRI scheduled and she was due to come home from this while I was at work. I picked my son Andy up from daycare and we walked in the house only to be greeted by a trail of half-eaten vanilla pudding cups. The cups were all over the place–on the coffee table (where there was also spilled coffee), in the kitchen, bathroom, the dining room. . . , and the trail led to her room where she was passed out hanging off her bed. When she woke up, before I could ask her what in the world happened in the house that morning, she told me how proud she was that she had come home and emailed Dad to tell him she was back and all was okay. When I questioned her about the spilled coffee and pudding, she said she had come from the hospital and gone through McDonald’s drive-through (you did WHAT?), and she wanted a snack to go with her coffee. She didn’t remember anything after that. In the meantime, Dad called from Egypt in a “mood” and asked “What’s going on with your mom? I have been sitting on needles waiting all day to get a report from her and then when I finally get something, THIS is what I get?!” There might have also been some Hungarian [expletives] in the mix. . . . He forwarded to me Mom’s email and it was all complete gibberish. Turns out that she mis-read the dose of Xanax she was supposed to take to relax her for the MRI and drove herself home and through the McDonald’s drive through near stoned; she didn’t like vanilla and kept forgetting that she got the cups out of the fridge; and, she had her fingers on the wrong place on the keyboard. We have laughed about this scene for more than 25 years.
Praying Mantises Free for the Taking (by Viki Kerek)
Mom loved nature. She was in awe of the beauty of birds, flowers, bugs, clouds, grass, dirt, trees, rocks–you get the picture. As much as she tried, (and boy, did she ever!) I just simply didn’t share the love of nature in the same way. I do love and appreciate natural beauty, but I didn’t care to know species and names of the endless flora and fauna that exist. She spent my formative years trying to “fix” this. During one of our surveys of the yard, we found a cocoon. Mom went into teacher mode and decided to keep the cocoon in the kitchen window sill to see what comes out of it (this is scary in itself, right?).
Weeks went by and I didn’t think more about it until one day I came home and found thousands of tiny green praying mantises ALL over the house. Most were in the kitchen and dining areas, but some migrated to the living room, downstairs bathroom and even upstairs in the bedrooms. (Okay, I looked it up and there may have only been 200-400. It sure seemed like 1000s at the time!)
Giggles (by Viki & Andy Kerek)
Mom was notorious for breaking out in quiet, whole-body giggles at the most serious, quiet and inopportune times. This, of course, made those sitting around her (like me) also start to giggle and we couldn’t stop. In some cases, we had to leave so as not to make a spectacle of ourselves. This happened when she and I went to a ballet production at Miami University. We expected a professional grade ballet and were really excited about it. Once the music started and the dancers took the stage, however, things changed. The dancers kept falling! This set Mom off and the giggling between us got so out of hand that we had to leave the production. Another time, Mom and I were at an inauguration event where the lights were dim and it was crickets silent. Someone, as part of the ceremony, referred to her in a funny way that she did not expect, and she again burst into silent jiggling giggles. This time we could not leave easily, and by the end my lips were nearly raw from biting them to stop making any noises. Another time Dad, Mom and I were at an international dinner where the only item on the menu was atrocious, greasy soup. It caught Mom’s silly side and she (as we all did on this occasion) started giggling. At least this time there was noise around, so we didn’t embarrass ourselves too badly!
I (Andy) can also recall occasions when suddenly something would strike Yvonne or me as funny and we’d begin to chuckle uncontrollably. It only took a spark for us in the Tiki-Tiki Hut at Disneyland to burst into an unstoppable snort in unison while watching a grotesque, emoted, high-pitched performance on stage. We also managed to disgrace ourselves at a concert in Ann Arbor, MI, where the premiere performance of a much-hyped contemporary piece sounded to us like kitchen utensils being banged around, with the sound of a meow or a growling stomach thrown in to ease the stridency.
Our most memorable gaffe, though, happened in the Kibuki theater in Tokyo. In that venerable venue for the Japanese performing arts, our spontaneous reactions to the perceived inanity of male actors with high-pitched voices impersonating women in all seriousness, forced us to sneak out of the theater before both of us were lynched or arrested for our disrespect.
Feisty & Fierce Protector (by Viki Kerek)
Mom was a fierce protector of the people she loved – like her daughter- especially if she thought someone was being unfair to me. There are more stories of this trait in her than I could ever write here, but a few stand out for me.
I played volleyball in high school and got a staph infection from a floor burn that sent me to the emergency room and subsequently I couldn’t walk for a few days. Because of this, I missed a game and therefore wasn’t allowed to play in the next few. I was very upset and Mom marched up to the school and spoke straight to the Board. I have no idea what she said but I never had to sit out again!
When I was about 5, I was in the hospital getting my adenoids (and maybe tonsils too) out. I came out of the surgery screaming my head off (I’ve been told I could bring the house down). The nurse told me that if I didn’t stop screaming, my mom would have to leave. That comment sent my screams into overdrive. Mom leaned in close and whispered, “I’m not going anywhere.” I will never forget the defiance that had my back.
Circa 1994-5 when my son Andy was just a little guy, he had a horrible disease called “Henoch Schoenlein Purpura (HSP)”, which is an overproduction of IGAs (similar to cancer being an overproduction of white blood cells). It was scary as hell (look it up) and took agonizing weeks for the doctors to diagnose it. He wasn’t allowed into daycare because he looked contagious – his whole body was nothing but a big bruise with red speckles. I couldn’t work much because we didn’t do remote work then, and I was an absolute basket case. Mom and Dad were in Egypt at the time and all they could do was read my sad emails and support me from afar. That’s what I thought – until Mom hopped on a plane in Cairo. Andy would not consider letting anyone but me anywhere near him, but Mom traveled 6,120 miles to sit by my side.
Reminiscing Memories (By Sandy Spoonemore)
I first met Yvonne in Dubai at lunch with several other Expat wives for the first time. It was obvious our humor and interests were similar and our shared hilarity began. She opened my eyes to so much from the souks to wonderful beach explorations. She had such a great eye for taking pictures of the rich cornucopia of life. She loved signs often suggesting another meaning, elaborate metal gates, highly decorated trucks complete with dangling CDs suspended from the rear-view mirrors and fringes adding pizazz to the interiors. Often a sleeping man might be under it in the shade having his siesta, and occasionally a goat might also be there in the shade. When the four of us were going to Oman for the weekend, we stopped at the border and the guys were dealing with our paperwork, Yvonne and I stayed in the car and goats entertained. They really do seem to eat anything! Papers from the counter blew off and were quickly about to be consumed and a worker chased after the papers but the big goat with horns quickly gave chase! The guy was in a long garb which he hiked up to run away. Goats in trees always made us laugh. Camels were so entertaining and watching them and their babies again was so entertaining.
They have amazing eyelashes. Remember the picture of the two of you about to dismount! We had such fun with our spontaneous weekend adventures and picnics usually heading to a beach. Yvonne’s special skirt with pockets was her garment of choice because of her pockets and she always had found treasures clinking and maybe dripping from those pockets. We always carried plenty of water, sunscreen, and plastic bags for our found treasures. We learned Andy had a serious dislike of peanut butter! This included peanut butter cookies 😜
We were fortunate to be able to visit the Kereks in Florida twice and our daughter with her young son also was entertained by the Kereks when on spring break. Our daughter stayed with us in Dubai for several weeks when going to med school–she had her pharmacy degree already so had an open time period. Yvonne took us both to the neighboring Emirate to the wonderful Blue Souk. We did the carpet souk and had a wonderful demonstration of their “best price” adventure. We really did get treasures. She was great in the gold shops too. I also carried a jeweler’s-loop. We did the whole carpet souk experience and all found treasures.
Back to exploring the Florida beaches and hunting for fossilized shark teeth! What fun and always on the lookout for the megalodon monster! We went to a flea market type place and she honed in on a booth dealing with small tools including dental picks. Wonderful for cleaning shells of course🤓
One early outing with Yvonne was right in Dubai around lunchtime. As I said, “if someone said I’d be in the Middle East in a dress shelling in the Persian Gulf with a Dean’s wife by choice,“ I’d probably have a serious eye roll. There was a McDonald’s near where we parked so we really enjoyed it after our labors in the sun. Standard dress always included a broad hat. I remember saying I wondered if a taxi would stop for a sweaty middle age white woman with a dress wet below the knees and dripping bag. Money speaks everywhere.
This is just a snippet of our memories.
Loved this lady 💝. Our last visit was when we learned about her beautiful voice and her performances. Such an understated bright lady.
50+ years of friendship (by Frances McClure)
How can one summarize into a few short paragraphs the more than fifty years of friendship – years of sharing books, traveling together, fun, and laughter?
We became friends almost immediately after Andy and Yvonne moved to be our neighbors on Locust Street in 1968. Yvonne and I shared our love of reading and our books, our children, and food. Later, traveling together, or meeting in other countries, sailing to Luxor, or traveling in Turkey, Ethiopia, Morocco, Spain, or Dubai. Searching for desert diamonds in the Sahara, riding horses into the canyon of Petra, or finding fossils of ancient crocodilians on a Texas ranch.
After the death of my husband Jerry, I decided to go back to Ethiopia to visit friends. Afraid I would not go, Yvonne arranged to meet me in New York. Her plane was on time, but mine was late. As I ran from one terminal to the next, talking to her on the phone as I ran, telling her what terminal I had passed, Yvonne stood in the doorway of the plane and refused to take her seat until I got there. A bold gesture of a wonderful friend.
I will always miss you, Yvonne, dear friend.
Her Hungarian Family (by Janos and Reka, Andy's brother and sister-in-law)
We remember Yvonne as a happy wife: she was beautiful with her dark hair, sparkling white teeth and bright smile. She and Andris [Andy] formed a gorgeous couple in our eyes.
We met Yvonne at our parents’ cottage in Balatonföldvár, Hungary, for the first time, with our kids playing together, and they had no language problem among them. Yvonne liked to explore the places she was visiting. She loved animals, birds in particular, and took excellent photos of them. She also loved traveling to far-away countries, and we always looked forward to hearing about these adventures, including their fossil finds.
On our joint trips we enjoyed her sense of humor and love of adventure, like the Christmas in the Mátra mountains when together we walked to a village nearby in deep snow in freezing cold with our two little granddaughters, with the bright moon giving us the only light.
Yvonne liked Hungarian cuisine, except for the greasy meals. We shared a spicy fish soup in Tolna, sipped wine in a vineyard in Szekszárd, and spent a fun New Year’s Eve in Szentendre (where the bed collapsed. . .) . We laughed and laughed to tears.
Yvonne loved Hungarian folk art; her favorite early souvenir was an old spinning wheel that she cherished so much. Her calm, cheerful character matched perfectly Andris’s, who stood by her until the last moments of her life. They are both our role models, and we are sure that Bundy and Viki will carry on their heritage. Hopefully, our kids and grandkids will keep on forging the family ties across the Ocean.
Yvonne will always have a special place in our hearts!
Yvonne had a Hungarian Family (by Szabolcs and Livia Kerek-Barczy, Andy's nephew and niece-in-law)
It was the summer of 1987 when I truly got to know Yvonne. I was 16 years old and about to spend five weeks in Oxford, Ohio, with my uncle Andris (Andy), Yvonne and my cousins, Bundy and Viki. Of course, we had met and had fun together on several earlier occasions when our “American family” visited Hungary. We shared many happy days in my native Székesfehérvár, at Lake Balaton and in Budapest. But it was in Oxford where I fell in love with the U.S. and decided that one day I wanted to study there. And it was, to a great extent, thanks to
Yvonne that I started to understand what the United States was all about and I realized why Uncle Andris could start a new life and find a home in that country after having to flee Hungary in 1956. Home means the people you love and the friendships you make. I felt at home in that house on South Locust Street, and it was Yvonne who made the house a home.
In that summer we took excursions across Ohio and Michigan, spent long hours traveling to the Niagara Falls, bummed around in New York, watched TV and dined together, and then some years later we explored Cairo and the many wonders of Egypt and Dubai. And as I grew older, we talked more and more about cultural, social and political issues – my special interests – and Yvonne cared and was even passionate about many of them. Livia and I were really happy to welcome Yvonne and the family to our home and to talk and laugh and reminisce and plan future get-togethers (see the photo, taken by Viki). We saw each other on Skype many times later on but, unfortunately, in recent years we never had a chance to hug each other again. We will miss but always remember Yvonne’s smile, warmth and wise words and the fun memories we shared.
Genealogy Seminar (by Robert Younghouse, Beverly Hills, FL)
Back in 2012 or so Andy and Yvonne came up to Beverly Hills, Florida to visit because Yvonne and I were planning on attending a 6-hour genealogical seminar hosted by the local society. During the breaks and at the luncheon Yvonne couldn’t stop talking about the new avenues of research she had just learned for her own family history genealogy. On the way home she and I continued talking about the various topics that were covered in the seminar. Upon arriving home, we found Andy and my wife Karen happily enjoying a bottle of wine in the backyard. While they politely listened with wine glasses in their hands, Yvonne just went on expounding with excitement upon what she had learned—obviously a topic of great interest to her.
Memories of Yvonne (by Bill and Dixie Utter)
Dixie and I were among the first to become acquainted with Yvonne and Andy in Oxford. They moved into the other half of a duplex at University and Withrow with us. We became fast friends. This friendship lasted from 1963 onward. We share so many good memories of our friendship. These include Andy’s stories of his escape from Communism, of shows with the early Oxford Area Community Theatre (OxAct), and much more.
Our last visit with Yvonne was so lovely. This was before we moved to South Carolina in 2014. One bright summer day she invited us to lunch. We sat on their sunny back porch this afternoon. As we had recently returned from a brief trip to Egypt, one of the Kerek’s many exotic homes, Yvonne talked of Cairo and in particular her experiences with the gold merchants in the Cairo bazaar. She brought out her treasures for us to see. Her stories of the individual pieces were delightful. We particularly enjoyed her telling of getting the better of the scalpers by learning as much as possible about the gold jewelry they were selling. What wonderful stories. Yvonne was a splendid storyteller.
What a fond memory we have of that afternoon and many other times with Yvonne. We feel so fortunate to have had her friendship for so many decades.
LaComedia (by Tracy Flora Begland)
Prologue:
[10/23/20 Dear Ms. Kerek, I hope this letter finds you and your family doing well. I have thought of you often over these many years as you were such a positive influence and role model for me. Being in your 5th grade class at Lewisburg Elementary back in 1971 impacted my life from that time forth. Currently I’m a petroleum engineer in Dallas. One of my hobbies is writing, and currently I’m working on a memoir of my childhood. As I worked on that 5th grade chapter, I thought it would be great fun to reach out to you and learn of your adventures since that time. If you would like to catch up, please feel free to write, email or call. Either way, you have my gratitude for taking the time to encourage me. As a thank you and a brief trip down memory lane, I have enclosed a draft of our dining experience at La Comedia. Sincerely, Tracy Flora Begland]
Three months before high school graduation, I sat at a table at La Comedia Dinner Theatre in Dayton. I felt grownup in my dusty rose polyester pant suit, maroon cowl neck sweater accented with a gold knot hat pin, and brown pumps. Across the table was my fifth-grade teacher Ms. Kerek. Yvonne Kerek was the first “Ms.” I had ever met. Like me, she didn’t fit in with the farm wife teachers or the blue-collar culture. Her jet-black hair swept away from her face in sharp sculpted waves. A silk scarf swirled with the verdant green of July cornstalks and the mustard yellow of the tassels accessorized her tailored navy-blue dress. Ms. Kerek wore scarves in rural Ohio not to ward off the insufferable winter but for fashion’s sake. While in her classroom, she had become an ally in my mother’s quest for me to attend college. Unlike my mother, Ms. Kerek had attended a university. She had experienced the mysterious outside world and brought it to tiny backward Lewisburg. She had made me believe I was made for bigger places. Warily I peered at the silverware soldiers that surrounded my dinner plate. A royal blue paper napkin lay on the plate’s center. I brushed the raised gold script lettering with my finger. “Kerek, February 27, 1979.” Personalized napkins! I made a mental note to discreetly slip it into my leather fringe purse to save it for a place of honor in my scrapbook. The napkin, the front row seat, and the entertainment to come were the carrots Ms. Kerek had dangled before me when I told her I was competing with the co-valedictorian to receive a $4000 scholarship. It would be awarded to whoever received the highest College Board score before the scholarship deadline. She had looked at me with appraising pale olive eyes.
“Get that scholarship. Then you and I will go to La Comedia.”
A bored looking waitress plopped down a clear glass salad plate. I stared at the opaque dressing filled with black specks.
“Poppy seed,” Ms. Kerek said.
Although the salad tasted strange compared to those topped with the orange Kraft Catalina dressing my mom served, I finished the mixed greens.
Ms. Kerek quizzed me about the scholarship victory, smiling as she savored every hard-fought “A” and each successively higher A.C.T. score. She advised me on majors, dorms, and final exams based on her own college experiences. I didn’t ask her anything about her current life. I was still a teenager, uncurious about the day-to-day existence of anyone over twenty-five.
We ordered from a limited menu. Ms. Kerek selected veal parmigiana, a dish unfamiliar to me. I chose the chicken casserole. Its elements were familiar: chicken, potatoes, onion, celery, and cream of mushroom soup. The entrée’s texture hinted of a stopover in a warming tray, and its ingredients tasted nothing like the four-battered crispy fried chicken with mashed potatoes and thick cream gravy that my mom cooked. But every bite tasted like escape, freedom, and success.
1971-1972, Fifth Grade, Age 10 (by Tracy Flora Begland)
The summer before 5th grade, my family moved a mere five miles but crossed a school district boundary. I was no longer a Brookville Blue Devil; now I was a Twin Valley North Panther. I was happy to start somewhere new and leave behind my academic rival who had bested me since second grade.
Twin Valley North would not measure up to the standards of my former school. The school system ranked second to last in Ohio based on per student spending. Twin Valley North focused on cranking out high school graduates that could either take over the family farm or work at a General Motors plant in Dayton.
But this school district had something Brookville didn’t: the formidable Ms. Kerek.
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The Tuesday after Labor Day, the bus dropped me in front of Lewisburg Elementary School. I walked into the two-story brick building with metal fire escapes and a cornerstone that read “Erected 1909.” Though a new annex had been added, the fifth and sixth grade classrooms were housed in this relic.
I checked the student lists posted outside the 5th grade classrooms and found my name on Ms. Kerek’s door. After I took a seat at the antique desk with the chair attached and a lift-up desktop, Ms. Kerek smacked her hands twice to get our attention.
Like me, she was a new arrival at Lewisburg Elementary School. She had found herself in the flat farmlands when her husband landed a tenured track at Miami University thirty miles away.
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The first week I did what I always did at school. I raised my hand to answer every question. I volunteered to read out loud at every opportunity. Maybe my sheer eagerness attracted her attention.
The following Monday Ms. Kerek altered the seating chart. Now I sat in the front row right in front of her desk.
On Friday, Ms. Kerek called me up to her desk.
“How many books have you read this week?” She asked.
“Ten.” I knew she’d be impressed.
“What did you read?”
“Some Nancy Drew books and Little House on the Prairie.”
She tilted her head as she pondered my choices.
Was she still impressed, I wondered.
“Why don’t you go to the school library and check out The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman and Miss Frisby and the Rats of NIHM?”
“Can I go now?”
She nodded.
Like my mother, Ms. Kerek demanded achievement. To the other kids, she might have seemed impatient. To me, she was generous and encouraging. She understood that I thrived on attention and praise.
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Though my bond formed quickly with Ms. Kerek, the girls in my class gave me a different brand of attention. One day I could hear one of them whispering behind me.
“Look at that rat’s nest. Doesn’t she comb her hair?”
I knew she was talking about me. I couldn’t get the stubborn knots out of my hair. Maybe I should try to cut them out.
She had to be talking to the most beautiful girl in our class. I would have given anything to have perfect blonde curled-on-the-ends hair like her.
“Wow, I never noticed that before,” the beautiful girl said, “but you’re right.”
It wasn’t just my tangled brown-blonde hair. I was the teacher’s pet, and that’s what I wanted to be. Teachers’ opinions were important to me, more important than the girls’ in my class. Even now, I’m always surprised when adults can’t remember the names of all their teachers like I do.
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One fall day Ms. Kerek hustled our class outside past the other fifth grade classes who were square dancing on the basketball courts. She carried a rainbow-colored nylon parachute. We followed her to a grassy field next to the school. She unfurled the chute.
“Get in a circle and grab it with both hands.” Ms. Kerek said. “Spread out.”
I looked around at my classmates, each looking confused but grinning at this strange activity.
“Ok, raise your arms over your head and back down,” she ordered.
We synchronized our movements to form multi-colored waves.
Ms. Kerek led us through a series of movements for the next half an hour.
Finally, she nodded her head in approval.
“Ok,” she said. “Now for a tricky one.”
Following her instructions, we held our arms high, let the parachute catch wind, and pulled the parachute behind us to the ground so that we were inside the parachute dome. Pale primary colors tinted my classmates. We held the parachute tight behind us, not wanting the air or the magic to escape.
Dress-up Night on Boat to Luxor, 1995 (by Frances McClure)
In March of 1995, Jerry and I made our first trip to Egypt to visit with Yvonne and Andy. It began with a lovely first evening celebration in their expansive back yard for colleagues and friends of the Kereks under appliqué tents and catering by American University in Cairo. Of course, it wasn’t for us, but we enjoyed it, too.
We began our sight-seeing with a trip to an experimental farm near Sadat City, a huge area north of Cairo, with multi-story apartment buildings not occupied. The sand was blowing and when we left, workmen were shoveling sand off the highway. From there we went to the pyramids where the blowing sand made it difficult to see, so our visit wasn’t for long.
Andy was busy with University functions, so Yvonne, Jerry and I took a Nile boat to Luxor, so here you see Jerry and Yvonne all ready for dress-up night on the boat.
Story 1 (by Bundy Kerek)
I remember working on the East Coast at YMCA Camp Woodstock in the late 1980s. I don’t remember exactly what Dad was doing at the time, but Mom decided she was going to drive out to Connecticut on her own to visit for a long weekend in the Fall of 1989.
We had an amazing time driving up into Maine, just the two of us, on a quest for LL Bean, the outdoors store. (Not really sure why, but it seemed like a good excuse.) While that store was kind of a bust, the trip up was fun – including stopping at a cold, windswept beach in Maine.
It was a short visit, but the two pictures I still have of that weekend remain favorites – the one of us together in the camp boathouse, and the one Mom took of me on that cold, lonely beach. It was one of the few times I can remember in my life where it was just Mom and me having an adventure together, and it was a special time.
Story 2 (by Bundy Kerek)
Having Mom and Dad come up to my house was always a treat, but figuring out what Mom could handle was not always so easy.
I remember one trip where I had arranged through one of Joy’s cousins to visit their Alpaca farm. Mom loved them.
All was going great until one of them, I guess one that thought she was being ignored for the treats being handed out, spit at Mom.
Fortunately everyone, including Mom, saw the humor in it – and Mom made sure that Alpaca got a treat too!
Story 3 (by Bundy Kerek)
Mom and Dad treated Joy and me to a week in Nebraska in the Badlands. For Joy, it was a chance to relax, read, and get away. For me, it was an opportunity to dig for fossils. For Mom in particular, it was a chance to find a fossilized turtle to take home; a mission that had been aborted in a previous trip for reasons that caused me to buy them an emergency preparedness kit for Christmas that year!
For anyone who knew her, Mom was absolutely tunnel-visioned when she was engrossed on a project. At one point early on the first day, I caught her backing up to a sheer drop-off of at least 150 feet. Yelling at her to freeze, (which she thankfully did with an irritated expression on her face, a mere few feet from the edge,) I suggested she walk a few feet forward and look back. She had no clue of her surroundings. She found a turtle in good condition a little while later, a few precipices over, and with Dad’s help, immediately started working on it to prepare for extraction and transport.
At the end of the “work day,” around 3pm, with the temps hanging around 90 degrees, I headed back for the vehicles. Perhaps a 1/2 hour later, the fearless adventurers came trudging up, carrying their digging paraphernalia with them. I started asking how they had done (since we hadn’t talked for several hours, intent on our own digging locations) but Dad held up his hand and asked for a few minutes as they moved to their vehicle.
Suspicious, I watched as Dad dug out water and food from the car – water and food that had not been touched the entire day. So focused on that turtle, they hadn’t bothered to hydrate or refuel themselves, and they were dehydrated and hungry. Mom was feeling even worse, exhibiting signs of heat exhaustion.
We’ll forego what I said after they had their fill; suffice it to say that I berated my teenage parents. The next two days, I made sure water and food was part of the load they packed out to the dig spot, and checked in with them to make sure it was being consumed each subsequent day.
But Mom left the Badlands with her turtle!
Story 4 (by Bundy Kerek)
Up until the time Mom had her first stroke, visiting the parents in Florida inevitably involved a trip to the river to hunt for shark teeth and other interesting fossils. While my finds paled in comparison to the enviable collection of fossils they accumulated over the years, I always enjoyed those days. Canoeing down the river (Mom taking pictures with my camera while sitting in the middle of the boat) and enjoying the nature around us until we arrived at whatever digging location we were headed to that day; setting up, attaching our screens to bodies, finding our spots with shovels in hand, and then digging down deep into the muck to see what treasures we could extract from the river from millions of years ago. The occasional cry of triumph when one was found. (Occasionally Dad or me, but usually Mom. She had an amazing knack for finding things.)
Of course, being Florida meant that the warning signs of alligators and snakes were real, though I sincerely doubt Mom gave them one thought once the first shovel full went into her screen. I remember her casually mentioning a near-miss with Dad and an unhappy water moccasin who took umbrage at Dad’s presence in the river, but it was more a story in passing. (If memory serves me correct, Dad managed to fend off the incensed snake with his shovel.)
I was perhaps a little more cognizant and paranoid of my surroundings, though as each passing trip went by I developed more and more of a comfort level. While I did still occasionally scope out the water’s surface for snake head ripples, I wasn’t too concerned; and since I was rarely in water over my hips, usually less than that, I wasn’t worried about invading alligators.
The last time I went to the Peace River with them, however, my nonchalance almost got me in trouble. I was on the other side of the river from where Mom and Dad were digging away, maybe 20 feet from the shore, in water about chest deep. An alligator was on the shore sunning himself. Since he wasn’t showing signs of moving and seemed content enough with me doing my thing, I continued, sparing a glance in his direction every once in a while to make sure he was still recharging his personal batteries.
Then several idiots in kayaks came down the river and saw the alligator. Shouts of glee, they coasted right near where the alligator was, snapping photos as they passed by. This disrupted the serenity of the moment and the reptile slithered into the water…around the area where I was standing…which was quickly evacuated, as I decided it was time for me to eat lunch instead of becoming lunch!
Both Mom and Dad had a good laugh as I splashed by, which bothered me not at all! After eating something and ensuring that my toothy friend had moved on, I returned to digging. (Perhaps with a little more vigilance this time?)
Sadly, this was the last trip I ever had a chance to make with them to the Peace River, as Mom had her first stroke the following year and the trips were simply too hard for her anymore.
Story 5 (by Bundy Kerek)
Mom was a wonderful cook, but there were a few complete “fails” that I can remember. The most egregious was when I was 7 years old, and we were living in Germany for a year.
I remember walking into our apartment house after school one day and smelling urine so strongly it hit me at the door. It only got worse as I walked up the steps to our apartment, and when I opened the door, the smell almost knocked me over.
I walked into the kitchen where Mom was standing over the stove, and the source of this offensive smell was boiling on top. I made some comment about the place stinking of pee and asked what she was making.
With a look that invited no return comment, she replied, “Supper.”
While I don’t remember exactly, knowing me, I’m sure I made a comment to the effect of, “You have to be kidding!”
Knowing Mom, she would have ignored it.
Apparently Dad had heard how wonderful kidney was and got Mom to make it. Somewhere, lost in the directions, was how to remove the urine before cooking it for consumption. Not being an innards kind of guy at any point in my life, combined with the reluctance to eat anything that tasted like what I put in the toilet, I was not looking forward to that night’s feast.
There was a long standing rule in the house that you ate what was placed on your plate without discussion; the story of “starving children in the world” was well-known to me from previous questionable meals even at the tender age of 7. That night I was perfectly happy to starve myself and save the other children.
I remember quite well both Viki and I taking one bite and spitting it back out. Dad, trying to put a good face on it, actually choked down a couple of bites, praising Mom for how wonderful it was.
Holding the third bite in his hand and staring at it, I remembered his glance in Mom’s direction, and both of them burst into laughter. The table was cleared and the jar of Nutella came out, to both Viki’s and my relief!
THE BODYGUARD: Brother's Memories of Yvonne (by Kenneth Richardson)
I was born in 1938 into a family of a Mom, a Dad, and a sister of 18 months old. As years went by, my small family of 4 began to travel the country in a 1938 Plymouth auto. Quarters were small living in the Plymouth, but me and my big sister did fine in the back seat area, playing games, listening to the radio, and arguing a lot!
Yvonne and I attended many schools for short periods of time at each. We were always the new kids in class, forcing Sis and I to keep depending on each other. Being strangers in our surroundings many times attracted bullies wanting to try the new kids’ patience. On those unpleasant occasions, Yvonne would take charge and save the day, putting the bullies at bay!
Wow, I had my personal bodyguard! This personal protection lasted for the rest of my young years. If for some reason I got in trouble, Yvonne just showed up to get me out of danger. I learned at a young age that my big sister was always watching.
Our Mom decided Yvonne and I would go to high school in one school, that being in Davison, Michigan. During our years in Davison, we didn’t see each other much during the day at school. Then came College, Yvonne at Western and me at Eastern, resulting in more division in our lives.
Then came marriage, family, global travel, etc. The divide continued to widen, but I always knew my big sister had my back!
Yvonne’s passing leaves a huge hole in my being. God bless and keep her soul. I know she still watches over her little brother.
THE BLUE HAT (by Don & Flo Young)
JUNE 29, 2010, NW NEBRASKA BADLANDS:
Where was Yvonne, we asked each other. Andy said she went to the car to get the plaster material to prepare the beautiful fossil turtle she had just found, for removal. We waited and waited, no Yvonne. What could be keeping her? We went back to the car but she was nowhere in sight. Things were starting to get a little scary now. It was getting late in the day and the badlands were not the place to be at night. It’s very dark and besides there is no cell phone service here if you need help. I think at that point we all got that extra shot of adrenaline realizing that she must be lost somewhere amongst the ridges and ravines of the eroded land scape. It was now down to search and rescue. We just had to find her! There were thoughts going through our heads that maybe we should drive back to our three day residence at the High Plains Homestead and summon professional help. But that would take too long and it would be dark before anyone could possibly get here to help. We just had to find her ourselves. We started searching in the immediate area. The gullies and some of the ravines were really deep and the surface material of gravel and clay was slippery so if you fell into one of those it would be almost impossible to get out of. Luckily, Andy and I had walkie talkies so we could communicate with each other while we searched. We kept yelling her name, YVONNE! YVONNE! It’s so quiet in the badlands, all you can hear is the breeze blowing in your ears. YVONNE! YVONNE! No answer! Things were now getting serious. We were getting scared ourselves. Thoughts kept going through our heads, go back to the Homestead and get help. But, we can’t just leave her here! OK, one more try! We fanned out, I one way, Andy and Flo, another. Andy and I kept in radio contact. Yelling her name again and again, YVONNE, YVONNE! Wait! I thought I heard something. YVONNE, YVONNE! Hearing a faint reply I started in the general direction that I thought the sound was coming from. YVONNE, YVONNE! Her reply was getting a little louder. I kept going in the direction of the sound, still yelling her name. I could hear her replies better and better. I climbed to the top of the nearest ridge and looked down into the gully on the other side. Something blue caught my eye. Her blue hat! There she was! I radioed Andy that I had visual contact of her and directed him to where I was. I went down to a lower level where I finally could communicate with her. She was in the bottom of a steep gully and could not get out because of the loose gravel and clay pieces.
Thank God we found her, but now the hard part. How do we get her out? We had no ropes or other means of rescue and heaven forbid two of us get trapped in the gully. There was a small bush that was part way down the gully and where it was not as steep. I thought that if I could get down to that level and extended my long walking stick to her, she could grab on to it, and I could help her up the slope. Well it sounded like a good idea. I got down to the bush, grabbed a thick branch for support, and extended the stick to her. Yvonne grabbed the stick and started to come up the slope and that’s when the idea went wrong. The branch that I was counting on for support broke causing me to slide down the slope and collide with Yvonne. Now, both of us were in the bottom of the gully. Luckily, Yvonne was not injured when I fell on her. The bush, however, still has my wrist watch.
Working together, Yvonne and I were able to help each other up a gentler slope on the back side of the gully. It was still too steep to go up to the top so we decided that the best and easiest was to take a long slide down to a flat area that ran along a creek bed. What a ride that was! Both of us made it down, a bit dirty and a little torn up, but we were on flat ground. I radioed Andy our position and told him to look for a spot where the terrain was not as steep. Yvonne and I walked about a quarter mile along the flat area near the creek and back in the general direction where we parked our car. Andy and Flo found a great spot to access the creek and Andy came down to meet us and lead us the rest of the way out. We were all so happy to be together again!
We packed up and drove back to the Homestead for a steak dinner and talk about our adventure, over a beer.
Oh, about the fossil turtle, Yvonne went back the next day to get it. She wasn’t going to let that one get away!
Yvonne, you will be greatly missed!
ALWAYS THERE (by Andy Kerek)
JANUARY 22, 2024:
On this day a year ago, in the darkest hour of the night, in our hearts we said good-bye to Yvonne. With her last hesitant breath, she stepped into the world of eternal peace.
But by then she could not return our good-byes. It was a few days before she died that, for one last time, flashes of her memory and good cheer momentarily returned and she seemed genuinely happy to see us surrounding her around her hospice bed. We did not pronounce the word but we all knew, and perhaps deep down she did too, that behind our joviality, we were saying good-bye.
I cherish the few snap shots that capture those happy yet heart-breaking moments, especially this one, which still greets me on my laptop screen every day. Her hanging on to my shirt sleeve is still a tear-jerker. Don’t let me go.
We had traveled a long road together. On August 4 last year, we would have celebrated our 60th anniversary. The small caption to this touching gift that Viki gave me for the occasion in Yvonne’s memory, just like the shirt sleeve, says it all: “Always there.”
* * *
On this first anniversary, we in the family think with deep gratitude of all those relatives, friends and acquaintances who have shared their condolences and their personal memories of Yvonne. In particular, the contributions to this website remain a testimony to the many ways in which she touched others’ lives. It hands down to those coming after us a lasting portrait of the life and legacy of a remarkable woman.
Hi Andy,
We are so, so sorry to hear of Yvonne’s passing. She was the most dedicated fossil hunter that I’ve ever known (and so knowledgeable). She could out dig all of us at the river. What a trooper!
I know you (and us too) will miss her greatly. We are so sorry she could not have joined us at our Bob Evan’s meeting in November. She will always live in our memory.
Andy, please take care of yourself. I suppose the kids will spoil you now-just enjoy it!
Let’s plan to meet again in April–we sure are looking forward to it. We’ll have fun talking about her!
Take care and stay healthy.
Don & Flo
Thank you so very very much for the wonderful stories, pictures and
memories you wrote down about Yvonne. She was a special, one of a kind person, who loved life and everyone she met. She will never be forgotten and will live on in all of our memories. I wish you and your family peace and contentment in knowing you had a precious person in your family.
Again please accept my condolences on her passing.
Jane
[Yvonne’s college roommate]
Arbor Day Foundation:
This gift will make a lasting difference. Your tree is being planted in one of America’s forests, home to such noble creatures as grizzly bears, wolves, bald eagles, and hundreds of other species. Yet as grand as they are, America’s forests are in desperate need of replanting because of unprecedented fires, insects, diseases, and deforestation. You have been honored with this Give-A-Tree card so that our forests can be restored to their full grandeur…making them once again a place of inspiration and sanctuary for wild things of rare beauty and grace.
In Yvonne’s honor, a tree is being planted in one of America’s forests.
Love,
Scott & Diane
DIANE AND SCOTT, BOWLING GREEN, OHIO
My dear friend,
Not sure where to begin as memories with you and Yvonne go back to 1990! I know
Scott emailed you last week some of our greatest memories of the four of us—from Cairo to Belize, to Hawaii, to Budapest to Ireland. I wish there had been more. Will we ever forget the sight of Scott
eating lard on the counter of your place in Florida. Not butter, Scott! Or the sight of him trying to get your waders off in your front yard?
All last week in Florida, I kept seeing places we ate in, beaches where Y taught me all about
shells. She was incredibly smart about so many things. I loved her photos because she saw things in nature that most of us pass by. And her curiosity about the desert and fossils was dangerous, even.
How many holes, pits, wadis and seas did you haul her out of?! I remember seeing a few.
Over the years I have looked again and again at photos she took and of us together. It’s been a blessing to have you in our lives and sharing your adventures.
. . . Of course, we’ll continue to be in touch through emails. Know you have our support always!
My sympathies to your family.
Diane
From the Central Ohio Chapter Alzheimer’s Association
Dear Dr. Andrew Kerek,
Thank you for your support of the Alzheimer’s Association. One of the greatest tributes that can be paid to an individual is for others to acknowledge them by making a donation to a charity in their name. A donation to the Alzheimer’s Association has been made in memory of Yvonne Kerek by: Seatta L.
Our Thoughts and Prayers Are With You. Our Condolences.
We are grateful for this generous gift as we work towards a world without Alzheimer’s.
Sincerely,
Vince McGrail
Executive Director
Central Ohio Chapter
[Bundy Kerek to Dad Andy]
Just an FYI, I just received two more donations in Mom’s memory: from the Reynoldsburg Lions Club to the Ohio Lions Pediatric Cancer Foundation, (OLPCF,) and to the Super Braxton 5K from District 13 OH5 Lions. These are in addition to the memorial gift from the 1st Vice District Governors of Ohio to the OLPCF from last week. Mom will also be recognized at the OH5 District Convention necrology service in March. I had nothing to do with any of it. Many Lions, when expressing their condolences, also ask how you are doing. Thought you should know.
Dear Andy,
I’m so sorry to hear of Yvonnes passing.
She was a remarkable lady and Scholar.
We recall many hours of enjoyed time with you both at your home in Florida.
Yvonne sure loved fossils and ancient artifacts.
It was a pleasure and honor to be able to spend those wonderfull times together.
You both are amazing educators and world travelers. I loved all the stories about your adventures and world travels.
You were extremely blessed to have her as a partner and wife of so many years.
Please share Sue and my condolences on this loss of such a gracious and kind lady.
She will be greatly missed by all.
We keep Yvonne in our fondest memories and our hearts always.
Love to you and your family.
Dave and Suzanne Letasi
Still educating always like our beloved Yvonne!
Sending this with love, thoughts and prayers. Yvonne was an amazing woman.
Thank you for the amazing box of macarons, and cheese and fruit. We love you all.
Viki
What a great loss for you, your dear family, and the hundreds of people who felt Yvonne’s friendship. The Remembrance site is a wonderful way to allow us all to remember her. We were comforted that dear Yvonne was with her family when she sadly passed. We express our love and sympathy for you and your family, Andy. We were privileged to have such a long friendship with Yvonne. She was an amazing person who accomplished so much! She will be remembered fondly by all who were so fortunate as to know her and count her as a dear friend. With warm memories and fondest good wishes, and our love to all, Dixie and Bill.
Andy and Viki,
I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you sharing this website with me. I sent it to the other members of the HOC team that had the pleasure of meeting her, and your family.
What an amazing woman, and story. I only wish that I could have known her at a different time in her life.
Again, it was an honor and a privilege to meet you and your family, and Yvonne. I will most definitely spend hours looking through her stories, photos, and biography.
Thank you again for sharing that. Please take care.
Kathy
Frances, this is a great picture, thanks for forwarding it.
And by way of copy of this note, thank you, Martha for digging it up and sending it! Much appreciate it, together with your message via your Mom when Yvonne passed away.
Andy
Dear Viki, what a beautiful way of celebrating your mom’s life. I am amazed by the amount of countries, interests, books, paintings, pottery..even fossils! It is so cool and amazing all that she did and was interested in her life. I loved reading the stories Mr. Kerek shared with us. What a marriage! I think my favorite picture is the one where she is wearing the “Adventure Buddies” shirt…it is lovely to see a couple that lived so many adventures together and exposed their kids to this too. I can see Viki’s adventure side is part genetics too! I am grateful to have been able to see and learn so much about Mrs. Kerek’s beautiful and impressive life journey. Thank you for sharing this with me.
Viki, Thank you for sharing the link. Your parents are amazing people! I love their fearless quest adventure and zest for life. I can see where you got your fondness for murder mysteries!!! Immigration attorney was of course the logical, obvious career choice with all those childhood experiences. I loved each of the stories Andy shared. “Is there a Chinese restaurant nearby?” – sounds like something I would say. And your dad looks so much like my dad! With the beard and that smile. Please convey my condolences to him. I could feel his love for your mom in each of the words on the website.
Every day when I look at my painting, I think of the day Yvonne and I were at a Florida rookery taking photographs of the beautiful birds. Yvonne with her camera and amazing eye captured a series of photos of this bird that inspired me. We shared our love of creativity, and she was my very special friend. I will miss her always. It has been an honor for Herb and myself to be part of your lives. Love, Paula Elliott
Viki, I see you in your mom – both in your resemblance and reading about her life. It’s beautifully written and you can tell she’s greatly loved and adored. I hope there’s peace and comfort in knowing that she’s free.
What a thoughtful remembrance for an exuberant person. Yvonne lived a life of collecting, curiosity, travel, arts, and culture all while “dodging bullets!” I enjoyed reading the stories about Yvonne’s life and seeing all the beautiful pictures on this memorial. May her family find peace in knowing that she lived every day to the fullest and she had an exciting life that impacted many people. Yvonne left behind a wonderful family who will miss her every day.
Regrettably, I did not meet Yvonne until after her stroke. There would have been so much we would have shared, like our love for black and white photography, teaching, and travel. BUT, when I did meet her, I could not help to notice the twinkle in her eye and her warm endearing smile. Knowing of Yvonne’s love of fossils and rocks, I gave her a lava rock from Lipari, one of the Aeolian Islands. My heart skipped a beat when Andy later told me Yvonne held onto that rock for days without letting it go. I will always be grateful for the that memory.
Mariana Florentino
Dear Andy,
Heartbreaking news yet merciful for Yvonne. She put up a good fight, true to her nature. Strong, determined. I will always remember the twinkle in her eye and how she held onto the lava rock. It was my pleasure to cook and share with you meals prepared with love for you both. I consider it a blessing in my life.
Please share the website once it is ready. I know there is a huge hole in your heart but know that hugs and love are sent to you from here. Would you like me to let Bill and Georgia know, Sam and Linda?
I am not sure about the mysterious workings of the Universe but Sunday was my 75th birthday. I will remember Yvonne’s passing on this day every year and keep a candle burning for her – and for you.
Much love,
M
When I think of Yvonne (it took her years of fussing at me to call her that, my mind still wants to say Mrs. Kerek) I think of her and Andy (okay, I still want to call him Mr. Kerek too), Bundy (sorry Mike always going to be Bundy to me) and Viki I think of the fabric of my childhood, because the Kerek’s were a part of it from my earliest memories. As a child spending time running between our houses, driving our parent’s crazy. Yvonne treated me like one of her kids, she made me feel welcome (even when we had all worked her last nerve, then she would banish us outside to play by the creek). .She would laugh and fuss at me and hold me accountable. As a child she was a second mom, as an adult she was a wonderful friend who I loved seeing each time I came back to Oxford (somehow our trips back to Oxford frequently happened at the same time), getting to visit and hear about her latest adventures with Andy, what books we were reading, politics, world history. I have so many memories between our families, from shared dinners to my parents and Andy and Yvonne’s trips together. I loved to hear the stories about the four of them and the crazy issues they would get into when they traveled. I feel so blessed, she was a part of my life. Sending love to you Andy, Bundy and Viki, Yvonne was one of a kind and I will miss her deeply.
Thank you Rachel. You and Martha were like daughters to Mom as well.
We remember Yvonne as a friendly and charming conversationalist with a wonderful sense of humor. We very much enjoyed times with Andy and Yvonne at their Locust Street home in Oxford and on visits to their home in Bowling Green when Andy was serving as Dean of the College of Arts and Science there. But our best memories come from a 1996 summer trip to Finland for an international linguistics conference. We traveled with Avis and Max Morenberg, Janet and Tip Ziegler, and Andy and Yvonne–first touring the lovely city of Helsinki where it was daylight until 11 p.m. and then heading north to the conference city of Jyvaskyla. We remember dining on reindeer meet and than toasting each other as we crossed the Arctic Circle. We miss you, Yvonne.
Mom, I miss you and love you.