In 100 years, a person is likely to be shaped by literally thousands of experiences and in that time, also leave a lasting legacy on all the people one touched in some manner. And so begins the story of the life of Dorothy Naomi (McConnell) Walker, born May 21, 1920 to James A and Roena McConnell, just down from the dirt crossroads of Pittsfield Township, Ohio. A farmer's daughter and one of six children, she'd have a lifetime of adventures ahead of her. At three years old she learned resilience and toughness by beating scarlet fever (along with two of her siblings) which would help her through many of life's other difficulties. She was raised to work alongside her siblings, share in fieldwork, as well assist with house chores and cooking with her mom which taught her cooperation and unity. She learned empathy and compassion while making sandwiches for hobos who might come to their door during the Great Depression because her family made sure not only would they have enough for themselves, but have food to share with others when times were tough. As a student, she relished her studies, delighted in books, and was accomplished at playing violin in the orchestra.

It wouldn't be long after graduating in 1938, she'd meet a handsome fellow, "Corb", who she'd marry in 1940. Even though there was close to a foot and a half difference in their height, Dorothy was just as much an equal in so many ways to her towering beau. Theirs began a love story that would prove an almost idyllic example of how two people could complement one another, bring out their best qualities, and create a marriage based on respect, growth, and compromise. After the war, they would permanently settle to "Walnut Valley", a small house and farm just outside of Wellington, complete with only a few rooms, an outhouse, and space to grow their expanding family. No stranger to details, Dorothy coordinated the daily routines of four children, 4-H activities, planning meals, creating "to do" lists on the large chalk board where "Dad" would grab his hat before heading out to the fields. Occasionally she'd tie up a bandana around her freshly done hair and head out to the fields, quite capably handling the tractor down the rows of soil growing that year's soybean crop. In her free time, she could be found sewing a new dress for one of the girls, knitting a warm scarf for friends, or setting up the wooden frame to finish tying off a new quilt. And Saturday nights were typically for dressing up and going ballroom dancing with the love of her life at the dance halls, waltzing to the sounds of Glen Miller.

As the next generation began to visit the farm, there wasn't a time Dorothy didn't provide exciting projects such helping to snap the ends off the green beans for an evening's meal, plan a drive along the back roads to destinations unknown (or more often than not, to a new restaurant), or take a stroll out to visit the newest litter of barn cats. The granddaughters would often excitedly sit to get their hair French braided in two perfect rows of intertwined locks. And there were always trips in the spring out to the backwoods, first crossing the concrete bridge over the meandering crick, to pick Jack-in-the-Pulpits, wild violets, and trillium. She could always find four-leaf clovers faster than anyone else. A visit to the farm was always magical for kids and adults alike.

Time would pass, but one thing that never changed was her love of family, watching the birds stop by her feeders from the large kitchen picture window, and never forgetting anyone she met. She was known for meticulously memorizing as many details as she could about strangers, friends, and family, never forgetting a face or name - likely a skill learned on the many trips with Corb for Lorain County Rural Water Authority. Much like her father, she could never get too much of cuddling babies and she was never short of smiles when little ones were afoot. And there wasn't a time when she couldn't be found baking - butterscotch or apple pies, sugar cookies, marshmallow fudge, cinnamon applesauce, and dozens of yeast rolls. Her baking skills were those of family legend and there was heavy competition to take home leftovers, if there were any to be found.

After decades of collecting so many experiences, Dorothy was easily one of the most level-headed, measured, and dependable humans you could ever meet. She was resourceful and a thoughtful decision-maker. She had a keen, but subtle sense of humor, an impeccable sense of style, she rarely missed a hair appointment or a chance for lunch at Dimitri's with family who happened to visiting town on a Thursday afternoon. She was no pushover, confident, and quite full of gratitude. She never missed a day writing in her tiny black journals, sending off a letter of thanks, or looking forward to sipping on McDonald's coffee while conversing with visitors in her kitchen. She was petite, but fierce in her resilience, gratitude, and compassion. She came into this world from a place of love and will be remembered in love, her forever legacy by many generations of family who were on the receiving end of her wisdom, wit, and unconditional love.

Survivors include her children, Iva Walker, Terry (Donna) Walker, and sons-in-law Dave (Pam) Crawford, John (Megan Apple) Bidlake and Neil Casper; grandchildren Curt (Cindy) Casper, Leah (Rich) Goedel, Jennifer (Rob) McKillips, Shea Alltmont, Adam (Erin) Walker; great-grandchildren Rhett (Kristen), Melany, Abby, Seth, Emma, Austin, Kevin, Cara, Seth, Cait, Jordan, Jack, Sophia, and Brendan; great-great grandchildren Xzavier, Riley, Arlo, Everly, and John.

Preceded in death by husband of 63 years, J. Corbett "Corb"; siblings Norman, Ida, Howard, Elsie, and Hazel; daughters Priscilla Bidlake and Marie Casper; and granddaughter Kelli Hall. Her family would like to extend their sincerest gratitude to Charlotte Brill from Preferred Care for her friendship and care of Dorothy.

As Dorothy would have wanted, there will be no wake, funeral, or celebration. She passed quietly, as she lived her life – privately, simply, and content – at her home where she lived and made countless memories for 75 years. In lieu of flowers, donations in Dorothy's name may be made to the James & Roena McConnell 4-H Scholarship Fund, Herrick Memorial Library, or you're encouraged to plant a tree in her memory. Condolences may be expressed online at https://www.eastmanfuneralhome.com/wellington