Her Father's Saxophone
Eleanor's father played saxophone in a small Asheville dance band, and she kept his old horn polished on a shelf for the rest of her life, though she never learned to play it herself.
1941 – 2026
A song in her voice, a garden on Gilead Road
Eleanor Grace Whitfield was born in Asheville, North Carolina in the spring of 1941, the second of four children. She met Raymond Whitfield at a church social in 1962 and married him two years later.
She spent thirty-four years teaching third grade at Torrence Creek Elementary, where generations of children learned cursive at her elbow.
She kept a garden on Gilead Road that neighbours planned their walks around, and she answered the telephone with a song in her voice until the very last winter of her life.
She died at home on a Wednesday morning in January, with her daughter holding one hand and her son holding the other.
The places and passions that defined who Nana Ellie was.
Eleanor spent her earliest years in Asheville, North Carolina, the second of four children in a bustling household. The mountains around her…
For thirty-four years, Eleanor taught third grade at Torrence Creek Elementary. She believed every child could learn cursive if given enough…
Every Sunday, the Whitfield table filled with children, grandchildren, and eventually great-grandchildren. Eleanor's roast chicken and her i…
Neighbours planned their evening walks around Eleanor's garden on Gilead Road. She grew tomatoes, zinnias, and a stubborn rose bush that out…
Eleanor Grace Whitfield's achievements and projects.
Eleanor taught third grade at Torrence Creek Elementary for thirty-four years, shaping generations of students.
She sang alto in the Huntersville Presbyterian choir for over fifty years, rarely missing a Sunday.
Songs Nana Ellie loved and songs that remind us of them.
Stories, places and keepsakes the family wanted kept alongside Nana Ellie's memory.
Eleanor's father played saxophone in a small Asheville dance band, and she kept his old horn polished on a shelf for the rest of her life, though she never learned to play it herself.
Every December, the family unwrapped a box of hand-painted ornaments Eleanor made the year she married Raymond — a tradition that continues with her great-grandchildren today.
Passed down from Eleanor's own grandmother, the biscuit recipe was never written down until Margaret finally convinced her to dictate it, flour-dusted hands and all, one Sunday morning.