Colleen M. Lauffer

Colleen M. Lauffer, 92, passed away on Dec. 2, 2022. There were no services and cremation was private. This is her obituary, and perhaps the last and only chance to tell her simple, tender story.

A lifelong resident of the Akron area, outwardly she was a nurse, a volunteer, and a devoted wife and mother of three. Inside though, she was a dancer, a silly heart, a dreamer of things that could be, especially for her children. Her generosity, optimism, and zest for life spilled over from her family and brought joy to all who knew her, including friends, co-workers, her patients, and even strangers who had to smile when they encountered the slightly kooky lady who was eager to lend a hand. Yet, Colleen was humble. While others praised her, she thought little of her achievements and sought no rewards beyond the love of those she loved.

She is survived by sons, Mark, of Chandler, Ariz., and Kurt, of Stow; daughter, Lynn Spiller, also of Stow; and several grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She was preceded in death by her husband of 25 years, Robert H. Lauffer; mother, Edith M. Johnson; step-father, Henry Johnson; and brothers, James and Carl Partlow.

Colleen was born in May 1930 in Akron, to a family abandoned by an alcoholic husband who left behind her mother to raise her and her brother (another brother died in 1929 at age 6) during the Great Depression. That strong mother, Edith M. Johnson, eventually got a job cooking for the well-known Masino sisters at Kaase's, a popular restaurant on East Mill Street, and married Henry Johnson, also a cook and a good man who became a stepfather to Colleen. She took his surname. Colleen M. Johnson graduated from South High School in 1947 and went to work downtown as a secretary for Quaker Oats. A timid wallflower (by her own description) as a teen, she blossomed once she was out in the world. She left her typewriter behind and became a dance instructor at Arthur Murray's in Akron, where she met another teacher, Robert Lauffer, young, handsome, and fresh in town from Johnstown, Pa., after a World War II hitch in the Navy. During the early 1950s, the two won medals in ballroom-dancing competitions in the grand Mayflower Hotel. Buoyed by a big band, Bob and Colleen were elegant in their tux and gown – she was a wallflower no more – and later in life they were known to clear a dance floor when they were out on the town.

In 1954, Colleen and Robert married – Arthur Murray's sent them a congratulatory telegram – and moved into a trailer in Akron while he was serving another military hitch, this time in the Army (as a teenager in Pennsylvania, he had enlisted before he was of age in special duration-of-the-war program, was discharged when the war ended, and years later was drafted into the Army to serve the remainder of his obligation). Meanwhile, Colleen's stepfather died, and in 1955 their first child, Mark, was born. Now alone, Edith, Colleen's courageous mother who had the fortitude to divorce a no-good husband during the Depression, offered to liquidate and help the newlyweds buy a century-old former one-room schoolhouse on two acres just over the Akron border in Northampton Township, in the majestic Cuyahoga Valley. By 1958, Edith, Bob, Colleen, Mark, and baby Lynn were an extended family in the house in Northampton, and Kurt would come along at the end of 1960.

For 20 years, Robert drove delivery trucks for Akron companies, most notably for Golden Age Beverage and Kistler's Bakery, and Colleen threw herself into homemaking: church, school, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, Cub Scouts, YMCA, Little League, band, choir, and more sports. In the 1960s as the kids began fundraising for their groups, Colleen drove them all over the township, waiting in the car with boxes of candy, or candles, or even Goodwill bags, as the Lauffer children pounded on doors around the Valley, usually at the same residences they annually targeted for Halloween candy. She liked to tell about watching as her oldest, Mark, sold Easter chocolate to Maude Aimee, the wife of then-famous TV evangelist Rex Humbard, as Colleen sat in the station wagon in the driveway of the Humbard house across the road from the iconic Cathedral of Tomorrow.

In summer, the family gardened, picked apples and blackberries, canned (91 jars of blackberry jelly, she once boasted), took drives to Amish country, went to motorcycle races and hill climbs around northern Ohio, and hiked in the Akron Metropolitan Parks' fall hiking program, earning shields for their staffs. In winter, they went sledding at Kendall Hills, and at Christmas Colleen took everyone downtown to see the mechanical displays in the O'Neil's and Polsky's department store windows. At each window, Colleen read the placard that described the scene as the kids munched on warm nuts from the Planter's store, and they returned to a house she had turned into a Christmas wonderland, with homemade decorations, a magnificent tree with bubble lights, candles in the windows, and heaping bowls of fresh fruit, nuts, and ribbon candy on the tables.

Colleen loved the flavors of the Akron area. There were special trips to DeVitis Italian Market, Hartville Kitchen, and Country Maid ice cream, to name a few. She was fond of sauerkraut balls, Amish trail baloney from Holmes County, chip-chop ham, and sweet corn from Szalay's in the Valley. Car meals were popular, and she knew the days when there were specials at the BK root beer stand, Big Boy, Swensons, and Skyway.

Always eager to broaden her children's world, Colleen showed them ballet, played "The Nutcracker" and "Carmen" on the phonograph, and moved furniture aside to give them dance lessons. They went to the zoo and the art museum, and she often took them to the library just to hang out. She took them to see the courts, the mayor's office, and council chambers.

Still, Colleen wanted to broaden her world, too. But being a wife and mother was a full-time job, even with the assistance of a live-in grandma (who was still cooking at the Old Portage Inn that was at Merriman Road and Portage Path in the Valley). As the children grew and needed less care, Colleen became restless; it seemed that pitching in at church or at school just wasn't enough and she had a lot more to give. In the early 1970s she volunteered at Fallsview Psychiatric Hospital in Cuyahoga Falls. She learned sign language and taught the alphabet to her kids at the dining room table. But Colleen craved more. So, in her forties and with three in junior high and high school, she went back to school. She graduated second in her class at the Akron School of Practical Nursing, and in 1975 went to work at Akron City Hospital. She threw herself into nursing, and by all reports she was a gifted LPN. She finished a 20-plus-year career at Green Cross General Hospital in Cuyahoga Falls.

After working outside the home for only two years, Colleen's life took a tragic turn on May 12, 1977, when at age 48 Robert died of a heart attack while on his delivery route for Kistler's Bakery. It was a turning point for Colleen and the family, and a tough decision was forthcoming. With the eldest commuting to Kent State and the other son and daughter each getting married, the old house on two acres was just too much for Colleen and she sold it (an office building now stands at the corner of Theiss and Akron-Peninsula roads where the house once stood). She moved into an apartment with her mother, Edith, who was in bad health, and the college boy. By 1981, Edith was gone and so was the son, who left to pursue a journalism career.

Life continued to give Colleen twists and turns, and she took them in stride with steadfast optimism. "Things will work out," was her favorite line when the chips were down. For a time, she was a middle-aged professional single woman with her own apartment, but she never remarried or even dated. It wasn't long, however, before it was time for her to be a mother again. She began living with her daughter and grandson in Cuyahoga Falls. She would live out her life in Stow, with her son and daughter, who took care of her with the same love she had given them so long ago.

Colleen wanted no funeral or service; only a simple cremation, and for her ashes to fall in a special place in the beautiful Cuyahoga Valley that once nurtured her, a place that was her home, and where in all seasons she enjoyed its splendor. Her husband Robert has lain near the lake in Northlawn Memorial Gardens on old Route 8 since 1977, and there was a spot reserved for Colleen. And while she was a loyal and dedicated wife, she also was a free spirit, and her request was to return to the Valley. For nearly a century she gave herself to others. Now Colleen's children intend to give back to her and grant her wish.