Arlendale E. Hobbs: Obituary

Arlendale E. Hobbs of Monee, a beloved mother of four who turned generosity and benevolence into an art, died Dec. 12 after a fall in her home. She was 70.

Born Arlendale Elizabeth Pekk in Chicago, the petite girl with the big name spoke German until she was five, hearing her name as “Arlendale A Little Bit.” She soon picked up a nickname, one that would follow her for life: Dale.

Her family later moved from the city’s South Side to Midlothian, where she attended Bremen High School. Hobbs, with brown eyes her Austrian grandmother called “schwarze Kirschen,” or black cherries, was known as the prettiest girl in the graduating class of 1968, Guy Gebbia of Texas, her friend of 54 years, recalled.

When they were freshmen, Dale met a boy named Richard Hobbs at a party. Over time, the two became inseparable and they married in 1971. She gave birth to four children: Erika Hobbs of Chicago; Kristin Trammell of Beecher, Brett Hobbs of Beecher and Lisa Westover of Downers Grove. Although Dale and Richard eventually divorced, the two remained friends.

Motherhood defined Dale, and her heart was big enough to take in anyone who needed love. And she often did. Neighborhood kids would knock on her door for Kool-Aid, Bisquick pancakes – and, often, advice. Sometimes they even came when her own children were not at home. She turned no one away.

“I remember I would visit and there would always be all these kids running in and out of the house,” said Karen Annichiarico, Hobbs’ brother’s longtime companion. “And there was always food on the stove. She fed everybody.”

Naheige Lewis, 24, of Chicago, first met Hobbs when he was 12 while she was visiting his friend, Dale’s grandson Jacob Trammell.

Lewis, who is Black, was not sure what to make of the white, Lutheran grandma. But she was warm and spoke sweetly to him, Lewis recalled.

“It was like she saw me,” he said. And so it was with everyone she saw.

Hobbs also was simply fun. She loved parties and family gatherings, and enjoyed a highball or old fashioned or two. She never showed up empty-handed, even to the smallest of events, bringing her famous potato salad and strudels or trinkets for anyone and everyone.

Hobbs viewed life from the sunny side. She would sing to her children to wake them up, even when they defied her and remained in bed. At mealtimes, she made up songs and games for her children, both to make eating a festivity and to distract the kids from their dreaded vegetables. When clouds hung over her children’s moods, she urged them to hold on to hope. “Something good is going to happen,” she would say. “I just feel it.” And she was correct.

“As I got older, we became best friends, and if I just called her, she always found a way to say something that made joy bubble in my heart,” her daughter, Erika, said. “My life will be empty without her guidance and her belief in me.”

When her grandchildren came along, they became the light of Dale’s life. Hobbs devoted her time to them. No craft was too big, no caramel-making project too complex. There could never be enough Grandparents Day at schools for her.

Hobbs also loved the gentle ribbing her grandchildren gave her, even accepting the title “OG” or “Original Gramma” that they gave her. She gave it back as good as they did. During the height of “cancel culture,” she told her rambunctious grandchildren she’d cancel them if they weren’t careful.

A day was not complete without Dale’s carefully drawn eyebrow arch and a bit of sparkle from the rings on her fingers or spangles on her sweater, or the colorful holiday pins she wore like coats of arms.

“My gramma was so sweet and wicked funny,” said granddaughter Emily Trammell, a cosmetologist and stylist, with whom she would discuss manicures and hairstyles. “She would send me gross pictures of her ‘boo-boos’ because she knew I liked them for my special-effects makeup. She knew all of her grandkids so well that she adapted her tastes to find stuff to relate to us with.”

Hobbs, who suffered from congestive heart failure, retired as a student loan officer at Governors State University after working there for decades. But even her failing health never dimmed her spirits. She took trips to Mexico with her daughter, Lisa, enjoyed listening to her granddaughter Elsa sing, relished watching her granddaughter Brooke play softball, and played tug-o-war with her cherished dog, Gracie. After her granddaughter Ashley moved home from California with her husband Zach and her son Carter, Hobbs’ life was complete.

“She had no regrets and didn’t let the bitterness of life’s circumstances corrode her,” said Andrew Krzak, her daughter Erika’s partner. “That is what I wanted to know—how to glow like she did.”

In addition to her four children, Hobbs is survived by six grandchildren, Ashley, Emily, Jacob, Adam, Elsa, and Brooke; one great-grandchild, Carter; three siblings, Randy, John, and Teri; five nieces and nephews; nine great-nieces and nephews, and countless honorary family members who loved her.

“She was the best mother, mother-in-law, aunt and friend anyone could have,” said her son-in-law Casey Westover. “It was like she was your pal, and had been forever.”

A public visitation will be held Friday from 4 to 8 p.m. at Donnellan Funeral Home 10525 S. Western Ave. Chicago. There are capacity limits and face masks are required. Private interment will be held at Mt. Greenwood Cemetery. In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to the American Heart Association, 300 S. Riverside Plaza, Suite 1200 Chicago, IL 60606. For more information, call (773) 238-0075 or sign the guestbook at www.donnellanfuneralhome.com.