Linda Jane (Tweedy) Kosak, Age 79, of Greensburg, died Monday, March 26, 2018, in Excela Westmoreland Hospital, Greensburg.
She was born January 18, 1939, in Columbia Hospital, Wilkinsburg, PA, the only child of the late Emmett Filmore and Eleanor Jane Sholl Tweedy.
She graduated from Turtle Creek High School in 1956 and from Westminster College, New Wilmington, PA, in 1960 with a BBA. She was a member of Chi Omega Sorority.
She married Carl C. Kosak on February 1, 1962, and on November 26, 1964, they had a son, Christopher C. Kosak, a computer analyst, who lives and works in California.
In the summers while in college she was employed by US Steel Research in Monroeville in the accounting department. After graduating, she was employed as an assistant to a speech writer in US Steel market development and was chosen by Lorraine Reed, from BBD&O, to help promote and publicize the Civic Arena. Later, she taught mentally educable students, first in the Allegheny County Intermediate Unit and then in the Westmoreland County Intermediate Unit. In her last years in education she taught business education in the Hempfield Area School District. For many years she was a member of the loosely organized Dead Poets Society, which met on the Seton Hill University campus. The group's sole purpose was to gather once a month to read poetry without comment.
She was an accomplished pianist, but stopped playing for reasons only she knew.
She loved to cook and she loved to eat food well prepared. A day in her life without wine was a day without sunshine.
For most of her husband's career as a novelist, she was his first reader, and though they occasionally disagreed about his work, he owed most of his success to her psychological insights and intuitive criticism. He will miss her without end.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is often and seriously discussed in America, especially given the seemingly endless wars our nation has prosecuted in many different parts of the world in the 20th and 21st centuries. But there are many kinds of war, and not all are fought under flags by soldiers of every gender wearing indescribable uniforms. Linda, for instance, was waiting at a safety island in Turtle Creek after losing a quarrel with her mother about whether she could try out for the high school cheerleading team. Linda's mother was talking to an elderly member of their church. Linda had turned her back on her mother and sat on the top railing of the safety island facing away from traffic. Suddenly, Linda felt herself shoved violently off the top railing while her mother shouted, "Run, Linda, run!" Linda fell to her knees and turned in time to see her mother and the elderly woman crushed by a large dump truck. The elderly woman died instantly. Linda's mother's coma lasted for three days. In the middle of the third night, Linda's father and one of his brothers-in-law in a searing flash of hideously insensitive timing decided that then would be the best time to awaken her and tell her that her mother had died. Despite the best efforts of well-trained and well-meaning therapists, that emotional hand grenade thrown by the two men exploded as many as three times a month for the next 65 years. The men's ancestors came proudly from lands of stiff upper lips, where taking care of one's own emotions was what stiffened their spines.
It was Linda's wish to be cremated, a service performed with kindness and grace by the Pantalone Funeral Home. A memorial service will be held on a day, date, and time at a place she had chosen, where her friends and relatives will meet to eat, drink, and listen to music to celebrate her truly special life.
Published in Pittsburgh Post-Gazette on Apr. 2, 2018.
She was born January 18, 1939, in Columbia Hospital, Wilkinsburg, PA, the only child of the late Emmett Filmore and Eleanor Jane Sholl Tweedy.
She graduated from Turtle Creek High School in 1956 and from Westminster College, New Wilmington, PA, in 1960 with a BBA. She was a member of Chi Omega Sorority.
She married Carl C. Kosak on February 1, 1962, and on November 26, 1964, they had a son, Christopher C. Kosak, a computer analyst, who lives and works in California.
In the summers while in college she was employed by US Steel Research in Monroeville in the accounting department. After graduating, she was employed as an assistant to a speech writer in US Steel market development and was chosen by Lorraine Reed, from BBD&O, to help promote and publicize the Civic Arena. Later, she taught mentally educable students, first in the Allegheny County Intermediate Unit and then in the Westmoreland County Intermediate Unit. In her last years in education she taught business education in the Hempfield Area School District. For many years she was a member of the loosely organized Dead Poets Society, which met on the Seton Hill University campus. The group's sole purpose was to gather once a month to read poetry without comment.
She was an accomplished pianist, but stopped playing for reasons only she knew.
She loved to cook and she loved to eat food well prepared. A day in her life without wine was a day without sunshine.
For most of her husband's career as a novelist, she was his first reader, and though they occasionally disagreed about his work, he owed most of his success to her psychological insights and intuitive criticism. He will miss her without end.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is often and seriously discussed in America, especially given the seemingly endless wars our nation has prosecuted in many different parts of the world in the 20th and 21st centuries. But there are many kinds of war, and not all are fought under flags by soldiers of every gender wearing indescribable uniforms. Linda, for instance, was waiting at a safety island in Turtle Creek after losing a quarrel with her mother about whether she could try out for the high school cheerleading team. Linda's mother was talking to an elderly member of their church. Linda had turned her back on her mother and sat on the top railing of the safety island facing away from traffic. Suddenly, Linda felt herself shoved violently off the top railing while her mother shouted, "Run, Linda, run!" Linda fell to her knees and turned in time to see her mother and the elderly woman crushed by a large dump truck. The elderly woman died instantly. Linda's mother's coma lasted for three days. In the middle of the third night, Linda's father and one of his brothers-in-law in a searing flash of hideously insensitive timing decided that then would be the best time to awaken her and tell her that her mother had died. Despite the best efforts of well-trained and well-meaning therapists, that emotional hand grenade thrown by the two men exploded as many as three times a month for the next 65 years. The men's ancestors came proudly from lands of stiff upper lips, where taking care of one's own emotions was what stiffened their spines.
It was Linda's wish to be cremated, a service performed with kindness and grace by the Pantalone Funeral Home. A memorial service will be held on a day, date, and time at a place she had chosen, where her friends and relatives will meet to eat, drink, and listen to music to celebrate her truly special life.
Published in Pittsburgh Post-Gazette on Apr. 2, 2018.
Linda Jane (Tweedy) Kosak, Age 79, of Greensburg, died Monday, March 26, 2018, in Excela Westmoreland Hospital, Greensburg.
She was born January 18, 1939, in Columbia Hospital, Wilkinsburg, PA, the only child of the late Emmett Filmore and Eleanor Jane Sholl Tweedy.
She graduated from Turtle Creek High School in 1956 and from Westminster College, New Wilmington, PA, in 1960 with a BBA. She was a member of Chi Omega Sorority.
She married Carl C. Kosak on February 1, 1962, and on November 26, 1964, they had a son, Christopher C. Kosak, a computer analyst, who lives and works in California.
In the summers while in college she was employed by US Steel Research in Monroeville in the accounting department. After graduating, she was employed as an assistant to a speech writer in US Steel market development and was chosen by Lorraine Reed, from BBD&O, to help promote and publicize the Civic Arena. Later, she taught mentally educable students, first in the Allegheny County Intermediate Unit and then in the Westmoreland County Intermediate Unit. In her last years in education she taught business education in the Hempfield Area School District. For many years she was a member of the loosely organized Dead Poets Society, which met on the Seton Hill University campus. The group's sole purpose was to gather once a month to read poetry without comment.
She was an accomplished pianist, but stopped playing for reasons only she knew.
She loved to cook and she loved to eat food well prepared. A day in her life without wine was a day without sunshine.
For most of her husband's career as a novelist, she was his first reader, and though they occasionally disagreed about his work, he owed most of his success to her psychological insights and intuitive criticism. He will miss her without end.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is often and seriously discussed in America, especially given the seemingly endless wars our nation has prosecuted in many different parts of the world in the 20th and 21st centuries. But there are many kinds of war, and not all are fought under flags by soldiers of every gender wearing indescribable uniforms. Linda, for instance, was waiting at a safety island in Turtle Creek after losing a quarrel with her mother about whether she could try out for the high school cheerleading team. Linda's mother was talking to an elderly member of their church. Linda had turned her back on her mother and sat on the top railing of the safety island facing away from traffic. Suddenly, Linda felt herself shoved violently off the top railing while her mother shouted, "Run, Linda, run!" Linda fell to her knees and turned in time to see her mother and the elderly woman crushed by a large dump truck. The elderly woman died instantly. Linda's mother's coma lasted for three days. In the middle of the third night, Linda's father and one of his brothers-in-law in a searing flash of hideously insensitive timing decided that then would be the best time to awaken her and tell her that her mother had died. Despite the best efforts of well-trained and well-meaning therapists, that emotional hand grenade thrown by the two men exploded as many as three times a month for the next 65 years. The men's ancestors came proudly from lands of stiff upper lips, where taking care of one's own emotions was what stiffened their spines.
It was Linda's wish to be cremated, a service performed with kindness and grace by the Pantalone Funeral Home. A memorial service will be held on a day, date, and time at a place she had chosen, where her friends and relatives will meet to eat, drink, and listen to music to celebrate her truly special life.
Published in Pittsburgh Post-Gazette on Apr. 2, 2018.
She was born January 18, 1939, in Columbia Hospital, Wilkinsburg, PA, the only child of the late Emmett Filmore and Eleanor Jane Sholl Tweedy.
She graduated from Turtle Creek High School in 1956 and from Westminster College, New Wilmington, PA, in 1960 with a BBA. She was a member of Chi Omega Sorority.
She married Carl C. Kosak on February 1, 1962, and on November 26, 1964, they had a son, Christopher C. Kosak, a computer analyst, who lives and works in California.
In the summers while in college she was employed by US Steel Research in Monroeville in the accounting department. After graduating, she was employed as an assistant to a speech writer in US Steel market development and was chosen by Lorraine Reed, from BBD&O, to help promote and publicize the Civic Arena. Later, she taught mentally educable students, first in the Allegheny County Intermediate Unit and then in the Westmoreland County Intermediate Unit. In her last years in education she taught business education in the Hempfield Area School District. For many years she was a member of the loosely organized Dead Poets Society, which met on the Seton Hill University campus. The group's sole purpose was to gather once a month to read poetry without comment.
She was an accomplished pianist, but stopped playing for reasons only she knew.
She loved to cook and she loved to eat food well prepared. A day in her life without wine was a day without sunshine.
For most of her husband's career as a novelist, she was his first reader, and though they occasionally disagreed about his work, he owed most of his success to her psychological insights and intuitive criticism. He will miss her without end.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is often and seriously discussed in America, especially given the seemingly endless wars our nation has prosecuted in many different parts of the world in the 20th and 21st centuries. But there are many kinds of war, and not all are fought under flags by soldiers of every gender wearing indescribable uniforms. Linda, for instance, was waiting at a safety island in Turtle Creek after losing a quarrel with her mother about whether she could try out for the high school cheerleading team. Linda's mother was talking to an elderly member of their church. Linda had turned her back on her mother and sat on the top railing of the safety island facing away from traffic. Suddenly, Linda felt herself shoved violently off the top railing while her mother shouted, "Run, Linda, run!" Linda fell to her knees and turned in time to see her mother and the elderly woman crushed by a large dump truck. The elderly woman died instantly. Linda's mother's coma lasted for three days. In the middle of the third night, Linda's father and one of his brothers-in-law in a searing flash of hideously insensitive timing decided that then would be the best time to awaken her and tell her that her mother had died. Despite the best efforts of well-trained and well-meaning therapists, that emotional hand grenade thrown by the two men exploded as many as three times a month for the next 65 years. The men's ancestors came proudly from lands of stiff upper lips, where taking care of one's own emotions was what stiffened their spines.
It was Linda's wish to be cremated, a service performed with kindness and grace by the Pantalone Funeral Home. A memorial service will be held on a day, date, and time at a place she had chosen, where her friends and relatives will meet to eat, drink, and listen to music to celebrate her truly special life.
Published in Pittsburgh Post-Gazette on Apr. 2, 2018.
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