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working mother

Introducing Mary Kathryn Gunterman

Mary Kathryn Gunterman Gathof

25 May 1912 – 8 December 1958
Keeper of the Hearth | Survivor of Storms | Mother of Second Chances

Mary Kathryn Gunterman’s story begins in the heart of Louisville in 1912, in a world where horse-drawn wagons still rattled down cobblestone streets and riverboats plied the Ohio. She was the daughter of Stephen “Steve” Gunterman and Lela Maurer — though records list her mother’s name in a few variations over the years.

Raised primarily by her mother after her parents’ separation, Mary grew up learning both the discipline of work and the quiet art of keeping a home together. At just twelve years old, she found herself in the Courier-Journal — not for mischief, but because she was jolted awake by an earthquake’s tremor. She ran to her mother’s side, frightened but safe, in their Bonnycastle Avenue home.

By the age of eighteen, she was already working as a stenographer, contributing to the household alongside her mother. Life moved quickly after that — she married Louis Aloysius Miller Sr., and together they had two children, Mary Ray and Louis Jr. But in the late 1930s, the family’s stability shattered when Louis Sr. abandoned them.

With limited options and the Great Depression’s shadow still lingering, Mary made the agonizing decision to place her children in Catholic orphanages — Mary Ray at St. Vincent’s for Girls, Louis Jr. likely at St. Thomas for Boys. Yet this was not a permanent goodbye. In time, she brought both children back home, giving them a far better life than the one they had endured in those years apart.

Mary remarried in the 1940s to Stephen C. Gathof, and together they presided over a bustling blended household — her children, his children, grandchildren, and his elderly mother all under one roof. Her work as “Keeper of the House” in such a home was nothing short of full-time management, diplomacy, and love.

In December 1958, Mary’s life was cut short by illness at just 46 years old. She left behind a large and intertwined family, a legacy of resilience, and the memory of a woman who had faced life’s upheavals with determination and care.

📜 Want to explore Mary Kathryn’s full story — from a girl startled by an earthquake to a mother who fought to reunite her family? Visit her Family Page for a detailed, milestone-based biography and historical records.


Share Your Memories

Do you have photographs, letters, or family stories about Mary Kathryn? Please share them in the comments below so we can preserve her history together. Every memory, no matter how small, adds to the story of her life.

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Blake, Mary Belle - Person Profile

Introducing Mary Belle Blake

🌸 Introduction to Mary Belle Blake

Factory Matriarch | Faithful Heart | The Quiet Backbone of a Family

She was born on a winter afternoon in 1908, in a modest home on East Georgia Street, and by all accounts, she lived a life that didn’t ask for attention—but deserved it. Mary Belle Blake, later known as Mary McNally, didn’t blaze across the sky. She glowed steadily, like the soft porch light left on for her boys, night after night.

She raised three sons in the steel-clad shadows of Kokomo’s factories, kept a marriage strong through Depression and war, and stepped into the workforce when America called on its women to rise. She inspected radios and raised boys, stitched faith into each Sunday, and held fast when the world tilted. Her fingers bore the calluses of labor and love in equal measure.

🔍 Want to explore Mary Belle’s full timeline?
From her birth on Georgia Street to her final days in Kokomo, her family page includes census records, marriage details, obituary excerpts, and more. You can find it all there—neatly documented and gently told.

👉 Visit Mary Belle Blake’s Family Page to view the full story.

We don’t know all the details—yet. There’s no photograph of her laughing in the kitchen, no diary left behind. But maybe you remember her. Or maybe someone you loved did.

This page is for that:
To remember her voice, her habits, her little phrases.
To uncover her favorite recipes, her stern warnings, or her secret indulgences.
To fill in the spaces history left blank.

If you have a memory of Mary Belle, or even just a whisper of one, I invite you to leave it in the comments below. Your voice may be the missing note in her song.

She earned remembrance. Let’s give it to her.

With gratitude,
~Kris

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