A year ago he lost his keys and walked five miles home. Six months ago he was eating ice cream with his grandchildren in California. Four months ago he was beating everyone in cards at the annual Michigan family reunion. Two months ago he was driving his 96 year old sister to breakfast. Four weeks ago he was at the gym sweating through his t-shirt. Five days ago he was telling everyone to stop worrying and go home. Two days ago he was singing a thundering rendition of happy birthday to his granddaughter. Once in English. Once in Polish. Once in Spanish. And an hour before joining the choirs of angels he said goodbye to his wife of 53 years with a grip as strong and full of love as the life he lived.
Arthur Albores, 94, left us on Saturday, Oct. 12, 2024. The third youngest of seven children born to Jacob and Victoria Albores who emigrated from Mexico, they settled on the West Side of Chicago. When his father died suddenly, his mother held the family together through the Depression and World War II.
Art found a second home at the YMCA, which cemented a faith in community that endured the rest of his life. He attended North Central College and graduated in 1956 with a Bachelor of Science degree. He taught grammar in Chicago and the surrounding suburbs for nine years while serving as a Navy reservist. In 1965 he joined the Peace Corps and spent two years establishing YMCAs in Caracas, Venezuela. He attended Middlebury College and graduated with a Master of Education degree.
When Oak Park and River Forest High School called him in Spain to offer him a teaching job, he settled in as a Spanish teacher for the next 40 years and dedicated his life to shaping the minds and lives of generations of young people, at both OPRF and Northern Illinois University.
In 1971 he discovered the reason he was put on this earth when he met Carole. Five months later they were married. First child Geoffrey came a year later, Peter the year after that and Timothy the year after that. He was fiercely proud of them. Grandfatherhood was the same. As the children grew older he grew wiser, offering advice when asked and a hug when needed. He was patient. He told silly jokes, sent books underlined, passed down traditions. His love was boundless.
Among his lessons: On Christmas morning, he took his family to a soup kitchen to feed those whose Christmas wasn’t as full as theirs. Read for pleasure. Wear colorful socks. Spend time in Michigan, marvel at the green. Carry a thin wallet because nothing is that important anyway. Be a part of your children’s lives without telling them how to live. Never miss a parade. Workout three days a week, at minimum. Keep moving or you rust. Make everyone say “too soon” when you pass on at 94. Meet people where they are but always bring a handful of love and a pocket full of Kleenex. Never forget La Familia is everything.
He was proud that in 94 years he never needed a cane.
Art is survived by his 97-year-old sister, Helen; his five grandchildren, Maya, Emilie and Maddy, Oliver and Charlie; his three sons, Geoff, Pete and Tim and their wives Chris and Sandy, both of whom he was crazy about; his wife Carole whom he loved more than life itself, and a lifetime of family and friends, too numerous to list but not forgotten.
Visitation was held at Conboy-Westchester Funeral Home, 10501 W. Cermak Road, Westchester on Oct. 17. On Oct. 18, Mass was celebrated at St. Giles Church, 1045 Columbian Ave., Oak Park. Interment was private.
In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to Housing Forward (formerly PADS), www.housingforward.org, in Art’s honor.