Kathleen McFadden Coonan

July 11, 1935 - July 2, 2020 It is with extremely heavy hearts that the Coonan family shares the news that Kay Coonan passed away at her long-time home on Bungalow Drive in El Segundo, CA on Thursday evening, July 2. She was surrounded by her family. That is the saddest possible news for Tom, her husband of 62 years, for her six kids, her 12 grandchildren and for the hundreds of former students that she taught through the years. Kathleen Mavourneen McFadden Coonan ("Kay") was the last survivor of her generation of the iconic McFadden family of Springfield, Illinois. She was born on July 11, 1935, the oldest child of Louis and Alice McFadden. Lou was a much beloved grade school and high school teacher, coach and principal, and he and Alice created a wonderful academic environment in which Kay thrived. Kay enjoyed an idyllic childhood pursuing her passions playing piano and consuming books voraciously. Her parents had to force her to turn off her flashlight in bed each night, put away her book and go to sleep. She and her sister Carol endured endless ribbing at the hands of their younger brothers, Jim and Joe. The sisters would complain for years about that but always viewed it as a sign of affection. On Thanksgiving weekend in 1954, 19-year old Kay traveled with her best friend from Springfield College and a collection of other college ladies to Notre Dame by train for a football weekend and formal dance -a weekend that would change the course of her life. Once there she was set up with Tom Coonan, a junior at Notre Dame who had asked to be paired with her upon seeing her that day for the first time. What followed was truly a fairy tale courtship and romance that spanned 65 years. Kay and Tom bonded instantly that day over their Irish heritage, their common values, their faith, and their shared experience of growing up children of educators. Tom was the son of a college professor and a nurse. Kay expressed a desire to teach children, and shared that her dream was to raise a big, loving Irish-Catholic family. Within three years they would be married. In their first Thanksgiving together just the two of them in Anniston, Alabama - Kay planned to cook her first turkey along with the McFadden stuffing recipe. Tom asked her if she would make the traditional Coonan side dishes as well, and Kay was all too happy to oblige. Before long she became an absolute aficionado at every aspect of serving that remarkable meal, and it would became one of several things that defined her over the next half century as that Thanksgiving table of hers at times grew to number as many as twenty-five or more. Tom and Kay moved to El Segundo, California in 1958, and then proceeded to have six children over the course of the next twelve years. Kay played the role of Mom to perfection not only for her six but for scores of others as well as so many came within her orbit in the neighborhood on Bungalow Drive, or through Little League, Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, and all the countless friends she welcomed with open arms to the Coonan home through the years from St. Anthony's, St. Bernard's, Notre Dame, UCLA, UCSB and Santa Clara. She welcomed one and all to the Coonan house and made each of them feel like part of the family. They were. Kay, possessing a teaching degree from Illinois State Normal with an emphasis on childhood education, was forever pushing her children to read books, turn off the television, write more, and work to enhance their vocabulary. What a wonderful environment to be raised in. She started teaching grade school full-time when her twins, Tim and Terry, went off to college at Notre Dame. She continued to teach at St. Anthony's in El Segundo and later St. Mark's in Venice for 27 years, where she had the opportunity to do what she loved - shape and develop hundreds of young minds. She also volunteered for years teaching in adult literacy programs, drawing upon a wonderful combination of both her big heart and her passion for letters. And she served for years on the Board of Directors of the El Segundo Public Library. She was the quintessential grandmother. She relished her role as "baby whisperer" to all her grandchildren, whom she affectionately called "the dirty dozen". There was simply no one better at working with a new mother at those wonderful yet challenging moments with a newborn, whether it be alongside her own daughters or one of her daughters-in-law. Some of the most meaningful moments of her life were spent all alone in the middle of the night with a new baby grandchild - letting the new parents get a good night's rest while doing what she did as well anyone who ever walked the earth. Through it all she somehow still managed have a fully-prepared meal on the dinner table for the family every night regardless of what craziness may have been swirling around her in the Coonan house. Each such meal was selected from among the many in her recipe box in a rotation, and each had their own particular name, like Yankee Doodle Macaroni or Hamburger A-La-Supreme, served up with a host of mandatory side dishes specific to that dinner. In her later years as she started to feel less compunction about speaking her mind, she became somewhat famous within the family for her well-timed, purposeful zingers. There are scores of examples of this, but perhaps the best came when she served as the foreman of a jury. After a few frustrating days of deadlock one older gentleman persisted as the lone holdout. As the jury broke for the day, Kay approached him and said, as only she can, "If I ever serve on a jury with you again and I see you sleeping during the trial, I'll shoot a rubber band at you." The next morning as they reconvened he came up to her and said, "I thought about what you said last night, Ma'am." He promptly changed his vote, they delivered a unanimous verdict, and they were all home by noon. All Coonans are all too familiar with the way he felt in that moment. But she was right. She always was. She was immensely proud of her Irish heritage. She spoke often about knowing how to swear in Gaelic, which she proudly learned from her many uncles on the O'Connor side, but no one can ever recall any instance where she actually used it. She always had a style and class about her, and an elegance, and that would have been out of character. She delighted in Irish music. No child or grandchild of Kay's who ever fell asleep to her soothing rendition of Toora Loora Ley, delivered just a decibel above a whisper along with a soft, calming back rub, will ever forget it. She always finished with a very reassuring "Love you lots," but by that time the child was surely fast asleep. She was soft enough that she'd cry for two states when the Coonan family station wagon would pull away from Springfield on one of many cross-country summer vacations, but tough as nails when life required that of her as well. She experienced her share of heartbreaking tragedy in her life, losing a child just days after birth, losing her beloved brother Jim at a young age, and then outliving all of her other immediate family members. But she stayed positive, cheerful and appreciative all the way to the end. Even when her body failed her and her mind failed her, her indomitable spirit persisted through it all, together with her sense of humor. In the end, hers was a life devoted to her family, her love of literature, and her teaching. And to Tom. Their love and affection for one another never waned. What began as a storybook romance remained just that until the very end, with Tom, the consummate rule follower, sneaking into her room from outside Kay's rehab center in violation of their policy just to have the chance to hold her hand for a few brief moments demonstrating the same enthusiasm for each other they had first exhibited as college kids. What a rare and wonderful blessing she was in his life - and what a blessing she was in the lives of all the hundreds of others she impacted in her beautiful and consequential time with all of us. It may have been almost 85 years, but even eight decades now seems not nearly enough. Not even close. One of the last things she said on her deathbed, as she struggled mightily to say anything at all, was "I feel love." So do we, Mom. So do we. My God do we feel it! That is by far her greatest legacy. And that will surely sustain us now that she's gone. In addition to Tom, Kay leaves behind her six children, Tim of Ventura, California, Terry (Katia) of Tallahassee, Florida, Dan (Donna) of Newtown, CT, Katie Pinkelman (Jim) of Woodinville, WA, Nora Gervais (Neal) of El Segundo, and Dennis (Emma) of San Jose. And the "Dirty Dozen" Colleen, Killian and Erin Pinkelman; Bridget and Carrie Coonan; Maddie and Grace Gervais; Claire, Tommy and Kevin Coonan; Eleanor and Seamus Coonan; as well as Kristina, Vlada, Phillip, Nicky and Alan of Florida. Unfortunately, a public service cannot be conducted for her in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic. A private family mass for her will be celebrated next week. Sl inte, Kay. None of those characters you read about as a child late at night by flashlight had anything on you and the life and legacy you crafted for yourself. Love you lots.