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Click this picture or this link to see photographs of Helen at different times in her life. Photos courtesy of her son, Jeff.
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While 51 years have past since Helen was described this way (in the above banner), those who have known her during these last decades would choose similar words to describe everything she did. Our congregation was sad to learn of her loss and we shall miss her dearly. A service of internment of ashes and a reception was held on April 20th. Click here to view photos from that day taken by Jim Hewlett, Helen's deacon. Please join us on Monday May 5th from 5pm to 7pm in the lounge at First Presbyterian Church Palo Alto. You are invited to bring some finger food, your Joy of Life, & stories as we conjure up Helen's spirit in our Celebration of her wonderful life.
We also invite you to send messages and photos to be added to this page and shared with Helen's family and friends. Email craig@wkmn.com if you'd like to add your thoughts, stories, or prayers.From Sarah JohnsonStories about Helen: one has to begin with her incredible gift
of hospitality. Parties at her house (and there were many, large
and small) were not just fun for her guests, they were experiences
of love and generosity. She and Phil welcomed one and all with
open hearts, humor, beauty, games and music, and lots of good
food and drink. From Pat IrishSome thought about Helen Morales. Helen Morales - I think of the many ways she brought her many friends together - she had wonderful parties with great food, sometimes games, always rich conversation and interesting people and lots of laughing and sharing. She encouraged, supported and challenged us to live life to its fullest! She loved to travel, read, watch movies, celebrate and be with friends - and her Texas roots. She gave me more than I can ever recount and I am so grateful for her love and friendship. I will miss her. From Jerry BowmanMemories of Helen It was in the late '70s and 1980s when we all worked for Prof. John W.Lewis and the Center for International Security and Cooperation at Stanford. The Center organized seminars, special courses, sponsored a series of publications, and had a regular program of "visiting fellows" who came from all over the world, as well as from the U.S. Over the years we staff members included Helen, Rosemary, Miriam, Nancy, Barbara, Gennie, and others. We were a close knit group (and are to this day!). We spent our lunch hours chatting over our sandwiches in the courtyard of Galvez House on campus. There was never enough time to talk as much as we wanted, so one day we decided we'd get together once a week for dinner and a movie. But we soon dumped the movie part and extended the dinner and talking part, and ended up calling ourselves "The Women's Brotherhood." One year we had an older woman, Zhou Yan from China, come as a visiting fellow, with several other young Chinese men. She was rather stern and stiff, and we included her in our get-togethers. (We always suspected she was sent to keep an eye on the younger fellows.) I remember clearly that once they were re-showing "Gone with the Wind" at one of the Palo Alto theaters, and we all went with Zhou Yan. Afterwards, Zhou Yan talked about how the movie showed the evils of the rich over the downtrodden masses. Helen piped up and said she always thought it was a movie about a vixen with a 17 inch waist. Helen and Phil hosted wonderful parties at their home for their church friends, and also for the office folks. I remember driving some of our foreign fellows to and from the annual Christmas party there. That big living room in the Sandalwood Court house, the enormous Xmas tree, decorations everwhere, the lavish buffet table,filled with dishes we'd all contributed, the piano and music. Several brought musical instruments -- flute, clarinet, and one visiting Russian rented a violin for the occasion. At the end of the party, when I drove some of the visiting fellows home, they always said it was the most wonderful night of their lives. I visited Helen and Phil the year they lived in Italy. Helen drove us (what a fearless driver she was!) on the confusing Italian freeways and round-abouts -- we traveled from Rome to Florence to Siena. I saw them another time when they were living in London. Again Helen drove us skillfully through the streets of busy London and down to the Channel coast on one occasion. Helen was loved by all who knew her. Warm, generous, outgoing, one of a kind. She will not be forgotten. Gerry Bowman From Robin Morales CabralHelen was very dear to me. Once in my life, she stayed, continuing
to be a source of joy and strength through the years. Geographical
distance was never an obstacle to her love. Through the magic
of homemade audiotapes that accompanied books, Grammy Helen read
to my boys in Cuba every night. They recognized her immediately
in Kansas the day Tasha was born and kept her busy for a week
reading even more stories ...and rescuing little plastic men from
the porcelain jowls of phantasmagorical netherworlds. Our last
conversation was all about the kids too and the great fun I would
be having with my new grandson. Helen was a blessing to us all.
She is missed! From Catherine McLeanDear “Other Mother (O.M.),” How old I was when we first met? Perhaps some of the communion
of saints present today remember….My parents would know…
or were you already a part of our lives when I was born?
You came in our front door at 1341 Tasso and never left. You brought something to our family that we
embraced and never let go of.
Our family’s life was different because of you being in
it. A life force – with energy, laughter, and the
fullness of being that was so infectious we
-- each of us McLeans – gravitated
towards it and held it close.
Life was changed because of you coming through it.
You knew something about celebrations and tragedies, about
the real life and about joyful survival and living with relish.
You were so real to each of us kids and to Mother and Dad. You were bigger than life to us, Helen, and
to me, you were my “other mother.” I don’t know how to write about
you, what I can say, how to articulate how grateful I am to youyou’re
your presence in my life. How
much I am grateful for -- how I watched you, learned from you,
followed you, asked you, and found you again and again. What do you remember?
Much life lived and so many things I wish I could remember…
I remember the feeling. Laughter, fun, loyalty, adventure, play,
family, surviving and then some, living with relish, nurturing
self and nurturing others, not missing an opportunity to play,
to laugh, and to live life to its fullest. What do you remember?
You were an opera singer. A
performer. You had that special something – Charisma, perhaps,
love for sure - that we all responded to. Somehow you made us feel that we were the center
of your attention. And
I really got to be you center of attention when I was a little
girl. No idea how old I was when you first came into
our lives, but I had the feeling that you found us somehow, sort
of knew we needed you and that you had a home with us, in that
little bungalow, around the dining room table, and right into
our hearts. (especially mine).
And everyone knew that while you were so important to each
of us, you were especially important to me. I felt like I was the center of your universe.
What a gift to give a person. “You are so important to
me, that I am focusing my full attention and lots of energy on
you.” Calls from years and miles away You gave me a tape recorder and books on tape to help me through a particularly difficult time in my residency in medicine. You knew so many balms. You had a kind of wisdom I hope to have and use
and share with others. I learned of your death from Pat, an email message
opened in I only now can appreciate those many ways that
I am not only my mother and father’s, but my (other) mother’s
daughter.
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