Elisabeth Kolb was born in Arberg, Middle Franconia (one of the three administrative regions of Franconia) in Bavaria, Germany on June 16th, 1926; she was one of 6 children born to Cecilia Eff and Friedrich Schlecht. She had four brothers and one sister, all were raised Catholic and all endured German hyperinflation, The Great Depression, and World War II.
Soon after the war, she met, fell in love, and married my father Gerhard Kolb. Seeing that America had many job opportunities for an experienced mechanical engineer, they decided to emigrate. Mom was able to secure U. S. sponsorship through a family friend and immigrated 6 months prior to my father. At first, she worked and lived in New York City, but then a job opening in Chicago at Kraft Foods for my father started their lifelong path in Chicagoland and the States. She did all of this while learning English through books and TV shows like 'I Love Lucy'.
In 1965, at the rather advanced child-bearing age of 39; after many happy years together forging a new life within Chicago's North-side German-speaking part of town, Elisabeth gave birth to her one and only child, Martin. After I was born, my mom settled into the role of mother and housewife. Since that time, I can honestly say that no mother has ever loved her son more.
Elisabeth excelled at German cooking and baking, but rarely used recipes. So,
when someone inevitably would ask her how to make spaetzle, rouladen,
cookies, strudel, or apple pancakes; she would tell them that the only
way she could do this, was from memory and experience. She could then show
you how to cook or bake the dish, firsthand. Over the years, however, most family and
friends just sat back, and let her treat them to her unique tasting German specialties.
Times change, people can grow apart, and the 1970s were definitely a transition for her as my father legally separated from her. She vowed to never let a man hurt her feelings like that again, and began a fiercely independent next chapter in her life. In turn, she gave her full attention, and utmost energy towards raising me as best she could. We were quite a team with my fifth-grade year spent in Munich, Germany. She had recently inherited the home where she spent her teenage years with her loving Aunt Cecilia. Knowing I was homesick for my father and the Chicagoland area, she moved us back to the States to a furnished Skokie rental apartment just one year later. In 1977, just six months later, she would purchase a Skokie condominium; it proved to be her main residence for the next 45 years.
During the 1980s and 90s, she settled into a 'snowbird' lifestyle. Every autumn she would drive down to Boca Raton, Florida, and stay there until the brutal Chicago winter had relented. In 1995 Mom was diagnosed with stomach cancer, followed by uterine
cancer only a few months later. At that point, her survival rate was
supposedly only in the single digits, but she somehow miraculously
fought through it. When someone makes it to 95 years of age, inevitably health issues will arise. Perhaps her most challenging disability was, in her later years; a progressively deteriorating hearing loss problem. It made communication virtually impossible. All in all, she truly loved being a 'snowbird' and maintained this migratory
lifestyle for many years until health issues finally forced her into
selling the townhouse.
Somehow she endured it all with a smile and marched on. Most recently, however, colorectal cancer made life very painful and difficult. Ultimately, with the help of a few close friends and some phenomenal private nurses, her Skokie condominium proved to be the most
appropriate and peaceful place at her time of passing on the evening of
January 27th, 2022.
In closing, one final amusing footnote; Elisabeth was an avid driver, and remarkably, even though she had multiple hip
replacement surgeries, broken bones, and countless other health issues through the years, she was seen
driving around town all alone as late as last Christmas (2021). So, regardless of the obstacles, it seemed like nothing could stop her. She truly was an inspiration and a model of perseverance, and if you were lucky enough to meet her, she would tell you, "I'm one tough cookie."
