Doris Decatur, a beloved mother, sister, grandmother, and dedicated educator, passed away peacefully on January 21, 2026, at the age of 95.
Doris is survived by her son, Sean (Renee Romano); her brother, Fred Owens, Jr. (Elma); her sister, Betty Rhodes; daughter-in-law Kathleen (Farley); seven grandchildren; and nine great-grandchildren. She was preceded in death by her sons Ronald (d. 2005) and Stephen (d. 2018).
Doris was an inspiration to her family and her students. After completing her studies in math and education at Kent State University in 1950, she launched a career as a teacher in the Cleveland Public Schools that stretched until her retirement in 1996. She had a strong influence on countless students over the years; her sons often remarked that it was rare for them to go anywhere in the greater Cleveland area without encountering one of her students. She brought her work home both literally (working on lesson plans and grading after dinner plates were cleared) and metaphorically (turning the living room into a classroom/tutoring space for her children and later grandchildren). Her legacy as an educator lives on in the family, with a son, grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren who have pursued careers as educators.
If her children or students needed anything to help them succeed, Doris worked hard (and at times sacrificed) in order to support them in every way possible. She drove her sons to school activities, athletic competitions, and debate tournaments. She purchased supplies for her classrooms with her own money, and she cleaned the classrooms herself when needed. When there was no cub scout troop in the neighborhood for either her son or her students, she formed one and became Den Mother, even mastering how to build cars for the annual “pinewood derby” competition. She made sure that museums, music, and art were a part of her children’s lives. She was always present for their performances, beaming proudly from the audience. Until she was slowed by illness beginning in 2018, she never missed a graduation or awards ceremony for any child or grandchild, nor did she miss an opportunity to express how proud she was of everyone.
Doris was a problem-solver extraordinaire. No matter how big (or small) the issue brought to her by members of her family, she would listen, analyze, and suggest a path forward. And if we didn’t listen to her advice (at least the first time around), she was always there with love and support (and not judgment) when we learned from experience that her solutions were typically the right ones.
As her dementia advanced, many things became increasingly challenging: her recognition of those close to her, her ability to clearly communicate, eventually her ability to stand or walk on her own. Yet, often when she did talk to us, her memory of the dynamics of a classroom were clear – she’d have long conversations about the state of her lesson plans, what was going on with her class, the cluelessness of the principal and the school administration. Education was in her bones, and when other parts of the world became cloudy, that remained her clear and reliable port of safety. Moreover, her care and empathy for those around her remained strong. Sitting in the common room of the memory-care facility, she would hear if one of her fellow residents was sad, or in pain, and ask what she could do to help.
Her family is grateful for the care and love she received at Judson Park during her last years. We all will miss her.
In lieu of flowers, please make a donation to Say Yes! Cleveland (https://sayyescleveland.org) in order to support students from the Cleveland Metropolitan School District.
Doris is survived by her son, Sean (Renee Romano); her brother, Fred Owens, Jr. (Elma); her sister, Betty Rhodes; daughter-in-law Kathleen (Farley); seven grandchildren; and nine great-grandchildren. She was preceded in death by her sons Ronald (d. 2005) and Stephen (d. 2018).
Doris was an inspiration to her family and her students. After completing her studies in math and education at Kent State University in 1950, she launched a career as a teacher in the Cleveland Public Schools that stretched until her retirement in 1996. She had a strong influence on countless students over the years; her sons often remarked that it was rare for them to go anywhere in the greater Cleveland area without encountering one of her students. She brought her work home both literally (working on lesson plans and grading after dinner plates were cleared) and metaphorically (turning the living room into a classroom/tutoring space for her children and later grandchildren). Her legacy as an educator lives on in the family, with a son, grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren who have pursued careers as educators.
If her children or students needed anything to help them succeed, Doris worked hard (and at times sacrificed) in order to support them in every way possible. She drove her sons to school activities, athletic competitions, and debate tournaments. She purchased supplies for her classrooms with her own money, and she cleaned the classrooms herself when needed. When there was no cub scout troop in the neighborhood for either her son or her students, she formed one and became Den Mother, even mastering how to build cars for the annual “pinewood derby” competition. She made sure that museums, music, and art were a part of her children’s lives. She was always present for their performances, beaming proudly from the audience. Until she was slowed by illness beginning in 2018, she never missed a graduation or awards ceremony for any child or grandchild, nor did she miss an opportunity to express how proud she was of everyone.
Doris was a problem-solver extraordinaire. No matter how big (or small) the issue brought to her by members of her family, she would listen, analyze, and suggest a path forward. And if we didn’t listen to her advice (at least the first time around), she was always there with love and support (and not judgment) when we learned from experience that her solutions were typically the right ones.
As her dementia advanced, many things became increasingly challenging: her recognition of those close to her, her ability to clearly communicate, eventually her ability to stand or walk on her own. Yet, often when she did talk to us, her memory of the dynamics of a classroom were clear – she’d have long conversations about the state of her lesson plans, what was going on with her class, the cluelessness of the principal and the school administration. Education was in her bones, and when other parts of the world became cloudy, that remained her clear and reliable port of safety. Moreover, her care and empathy for those around her remained strong. Sitting in the common room of the memory-care facility, she would hear if one of her fellow residents was sad, or in pain, and ask what she could do to help.
Her family is grateful for the care and love she received at Judson Park during her last years. We all will miss her.
In lieu of flowers, please make a donation to Say Yes! Cleveland (https://sayyescleveland.org) in order to support students from the Cleveland Metropolitan School District.
To order memorial trees or send flowers to the family in memory of Doris Decatur, please visit our flower store.
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