Elaine's Obituary — KATHA SOENS

Celebration of Life

On a trip to Hawaii in the ‘80s with her mother Peg.

Elaine’s obituary with select comments from the funeral home’s website following.

Margaret Elaine (Ebright) Soens, 85, of Pittsburgh, PA, passed away at her home on Thursday, July 2, 2020 due to complications from COPD. Elaine was born June 26, 1935 to Margaret "Peg" (Ford) and Howard Ebright in Pittsburgh and lived most of her life in Morningside (neighborhood in Pittsburgh).

Elaine earned her bachelor’s and master’s degrees from the University of Pittsburgh and ultimately spent her career as a teacher in Pittsburgh, teaching English at Oliver High School. Elaine was very much a modern woman, going to college and working, all the while raising three children alongside her beloved husband, Ted Colton Soens. A woman on the go, her children recall her working late into the night to grade papers, driving them to years’ worth of extracurriculars, whipping up Chicken a la King for a quick meal, and studying endlessly in pursuit of her degrees.

In her downtime, Elaine loved doing crossword puzzles and keeping up on the news, her guilty pleasure being celebrity gossip, and staying up late to enjoy a glass of something (the latest was Baileys Cream) in hand. She was an avid Steelers fan, with her Terrible Towel ready. In retirement, Elaine took up cooking with gusto, and she and Ted traveled the world. She was always willing to edit papers, essays, and résumés for anyone who’d ask, those years of English-teaching never quite evaporating. We fondly remember many trips to Stone Harbor, NJ to enjoy the beach and a summer-long camping trip in the '60s across the country to California and back. When recently asked, what would you have done differently, she replied, "Absolutely nothing. I'd do it all again." (We do remember that years ago, you wish you had been a gym teacher — less grading of papers!)

She was preceded in death by husband Ted, who died May 28, 2020. They had been married for 67 years. She is survived by their children, Ted Jr., Kathleen and David, grandchildren, one great grandson, and other family members scattered throughout the country. We love you, Mom and Grandma. Thanks for the laughs and for being there, always, when needed. You have been such a comfort.

A private memorial celebration will be held at later date. In lieu of flowers, please donate to the DNC to support getting Trump out of office. And, as Ted reminded us, make sure you vote.

David Soens
posted October 28, 2020

Mom, I will miss you.

As of 10/26, the day I watched the game, the Steelers are 6-0.

If I had been watching Sunday's game live, I would have called you right before the Titan's attempt at a field goal, with 14 seconds remaining, just to so that you'd see my name pop up on the TV "call from David Soens", and knowing you wouldn't answer, knowing you'd strangle me if by answering the phone, you'd miss the kick.

Of course, you would have already called me on Sunday night, knowing that I would be sitting, watching the game I recorded on DVR. I would have pleaded that you don't mention anything about the score, but, you would always slip-in a hint.... "Anyways, too bad about that last game...", or, "I hope you get time to watch them win...".

The Titan's missed the field goal and we won. I'm sad that you're missing so much. Zara has started a day shift and has a new patient that she's happy with. Zachry is surviving the lonely COVID crisis, keeping busy by working/playing from home. Zoe is happy everything... with Jeff, her house, her job, and her wonderful son. Lincoln is so cute and his smile is so charming. He has mastered walking and running. Soon, he'll be talking in complete words. Val is happy chasing after him. Life goes on.

I'll miss you. Give Dad a kiss and a hug... 2020 has been a terrible year... at least your team is doing well.

Kathleen Ortmann Steigerwald (student)

I was looking at an old year book from Oliver High School and saw a picture of Mrs. Soens so I googled her name and found this obituary. I was a student from OHS in the 70's and your Mother was my English teacher. She was a great teacher, very caring, sincere and sweet. She taught the "scholars" class and she really helped educate me. Few kids from Oliver went to college, but I went to Penn State on the main campus which even then was hard to achieve. Your mother's care and concern for her students surely helped me to reach goals. I often think of her and her simple smile. She really never yelled, and was very patient and supportive.

I read the letters from you and your family and it was all so true. Anyway, I just wanted to reach out and say I knew her, she was wonderful and I hope she is watching this Sunday when the Steelers beat the Ravens. God Bless.

Jon Peters (neighbor one door down the street)

Elaine was a great lady, witty and warm and a great hostess. She was the best neighbor we could hope to have.

Maddie Rossman (granddaughter)

Elaine with granddaughters in 1993: Kailyn, Zara, Madeline and Zoe

Grandma Elaine was a wonderful person, kind-hearted with generous amounts of honesty, sarcasm, and sass on the side. I have two especially favorite memories of her. One, I'm a teenager, visiting her and my grandpa for the summer, and I'm listening to a new album I had bought that day on their back porch. My grandma joins me to listen, and a dance song comes on. She springs up and immediately starts dancing, one-two, one-two, her legs and arms swinging. She claps and spins, and I get a glimpse of her as a young woman, and man, I wish I could know her then and now and forever. Two, I'm a young woman, and I'm debating if I should stop seeing a guy I've been dating for a little while. I call her for advice, as someone who's been married to the love of her life for decades. We talk for over an hour, our longest phone conversation, and she talks about things like humor and autonomy, and how a good relationship will have both. It's like a door opens in my mind, and I end up breaking up with him. Her words and advice in that conversation continue to resonate with me and impact what I should look for in a partner. In so many ways, grandma was forthright and helpful and fabulous, and I so loved her. I'll always remember her and her stacks of "People" magazines and her jars of pimento cheese. She will be sorely missed. - Maddie Rossman, granddaughter

Katha Soens (daughter)

May 9, 2018, letter written to Mom for Mother's Day

Dear Mom,

I want you to know that we see you….not just the 82-year-old struggling with health issues…but YOU through the years. We’ve not forgotten all the you’s….the young mother, the high school English teacher, the world traveler, the grandmother. I am reluctant to send you this letter, knowing you’ll want to correct and add to it, teacher-style, but here goes at capturing some memories.

______________❤️_______________

I remember you, Mom...

Doing handstands outside against the wall near the garage door.

Twirling your hair around a finger while pensively reading and drinking a Coke.

Tossing a jump rope out the front door to me, then shutting it, so you could have a few moments of peace in that small house.

Catching a glimpse of you and Dad getting ready to chaperone a high school event. I could see your reflections in the mirror, you looking so pretty and dad so handsome.

Showing off a dress you had sewn for a class. You did not make much time for crafts, but I remember how proud you were of the blue dress with an acorn pattern on it.

Allowing me to get one doomed pet after another…mainly goldfish and a doomed turtle. Finally, my poutiness over not having a “real” pet led to me getting my Siamese cat, Missy, though neither you nor dad were fond of cats. And, of course, you taking back Missy to spend the rest of her days with you, after a failed attempt to take her back with me after college.

Joining Dad, me and the boys when we walked to Sunnyside field to play baseball: our own version of T-ball and running the bases. It was always a big thrill when you agreed to play with us.

Watching and applauding when we (and some neighborhood kids) put on shows or ran a home-made film, with a curtain theatrically strung up over the garage.

Taking us on our own camping trip, just you and me, to New Jersey soon after Dad and the boys got home from their own trip. We were determined to have our own girls’ time, despite a horrid rainy week at the campground. We were forced to pack up early.

Allowing me to paint each wall of my bedroom a different color.

Teaching my best friend Tony how to do the 1920's Charleston.

Getting very mad at David for sticking match ends in your cigarettes, in an attempt to get you to quit.

Laughing at my boyfriend's gift of a cigarette-holding box shaped like a coffin. When the button was pushed, an emaciated hand emerged from the box and delivered the cigarette, all the while playing a dirge.

Catching a few winks while grading papers late at night.

Driving me to Brownie meetings, years’ worth of ballet, gymnastic and tap lessons and recitals, art lessons at the Carnegie Museum, City choir rehearsals, summer classes in Oakland…really, hours and hours of driving.

Passing through a plate of small pizzas from the kitchen to the back porch while we were watching television, probably Star Trek or Rat Patrol.

Giving me cooking "lessons," which mainly consisted of letting me cut up bananas on dishes of fruit cocktail or kneading bread pieces into ground beef to stretch it for meat patties. You became such a great cook once you retired and had the time.

Insisting on buying me a cream-and-navy formal gown, knowing I would not be willing to spend the money.

Telling me I was obviously in love with Terry, after I described meeting and hanging out with my long-haired next-door hall counselor at Earlham College.

Organizing just about all the details for our wedding, from band to country club venue, because I wanted to, basically, elope, and you would have none of that.

Traveling with you and Dad and Terry, learning to be with you as a friend as well as a daughter. You bought me a silver raincoat in San Francisco and laughed through the Noises Off play, bought me a flower garland for my hair (it was San Fran after all) and ate beignets and shopped with me in New Orleans.

Patiently babysitting the grandkids on our many family trips to New Jersey and especially coming back to find you exhausted from baby Zoe’s never-ending crying jag. (On that occasion, Mom said she and Grandma Lo poured Black Russians at the end of the ordeal.)

Rooting for the Steelers and trying (without success) to teach me the rules of the game. And being annoyed when David, teasing and deliberately, would make a phone call to the house just as the team was scoring big.

You have always been a rock solid support for me and my family. You came to Connecticut when Kailyn arrived, and I had to work, and Terry came down with the flu. You took care of them all. I called you and Dad minutes after learning of Terry’s death and hearing your voice, Mom, I could barely get the words out. But I knew you and Dad would drop everything and come immediately. And you both did.

So, Mom, this is just a few of our memories of you. I love you. Happy Mother's Day!

Comments from Weddell-Ajak Funeral Home

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