Ena (Burchfield) Lohrey was born May 14, 1920, and passed from this life May 31, 2012. Mom was born to Walter and Helen Burchfield in Arlington, Kansas. She joined big sister Lorraine in what was now the family unit. During her early years the family moved several times.
Mom's earliest childhood memories were of living on a small farm near Hooker, Oklahoma. On Saturday night they would take eggs and cream into town, just like most everyone else, to buy the next weeks groceries. One thing stuck in her mind. Her mom stayed in the car with the girls while her dad bought the groceries. One Saturday evening her dad came to the car and said he had 25 cents left over after buying things and wanted to know if it would be ok with her mom if he spent the quarter on some really good looking bananas. After considerable discussion they agreed to buy the bananas. This left an indelible impression on Mom and later in life she always had some extra dollars hidden away for emergencies.
Mom lived through the "dirty thirties" and had many memorable stories to tell about those years, about not being able to see anything, of being lost in the country and of those who suffered from dust pneumonia.
Mom was truly blessed in several ways. She was an excellent athlete, excelling at basketball. In one game she scored all but one of her teams' points with one arm heavily bandaged from a burn suffered earlier in the day during chemistry lab. She was a member of the State Championship women's basketball team in 1938. After high school she was invited to try out with a women's professional basketball team known as the Redheads, but it would have meant leaving home and she was not ready to do this.
In 1941 her father was raising broomcorn and hiring hands to cut the corn. One day a guy came by on his way to Oregon but needed money for gas and wanted a job for a while. Mom didn't like his looks and told her dad not to hire him. When her dad told her this guy was driving a nice red convertible she changed her mind and said maybe he should try this guy out for a least a day or two. His name was Lester Lohrey and a year later they were married, a marriage that lasted until dad's death 57 years later. There wasn't any money for a honeymoon so they worked three months managing to save up $50. Mom said they then spent a week in the mountains, had a wonderful time, and came home with $5.
Mom, encouraged by her dad, decided to open a ladies retail clothing and apparel store, and so began Ena's Style Shop. She managed her store for about three years until it was time to begin the family, at which time she sold the store.
To this union two sons were born, Don and Greg. From that time on her life was her family, period. This of course was a busy time in her life with school, sports, taking care of the family, helping out on the farm and she loved it all.
Later in life Mom and Dad learned to play bridge and enjoyed playing with other couples for many years. After she lost Dad things were just never the same for her. She put up a good front but he was her rock and that rock was missing. Mom continued to play bridge with her lady friends and took several cruises which she enjoyed to no end.
Mom was blessed with a beautiful soprano voice. She never had a lesson, she could just naturally sing. The church choir was a large part of her life for many years. She sang for dozens and dozens of funerals, never turning a family down unless she was ill. In her last years she disliked going to funerals as she had been to so many. That is why we are here today. It's what she wanted.
She is survived by Don and Beverly of Walsh and Greg of Aurora, Colorado, granddaughter Kaasha Samuelson and great-grandson Gavin of Kirkland, Washington, step-granddaughters Crystal (Marc) Hultquist of Seattle, Washington, Lisa (Brandon) Terry of Augusta, Kansas, and Laura (Nathan) Robbins of Ypsilanti, Michigan, and eleven step-great grandchildren.
She was preceded in death by her husband Lec, parents Walter and Helen Burchfield, her sister and husband Lorraine and Carl Doke. She was the last of her generation.