Obituary of Florence "Peggy" Evans
Please share a memory of Florence "Peggy" to include in a keepsake book for family and friends.
Mom so loved her family and her many, many friends. She loved to visit with anyone and everyone. She enjoyed listening to and sharing stories. And she was there in times of need, helping spiritually and financially.
Growing up it was always a family joke about how much she hated to cook, but became a gourmet cook for my dad and put on many a dinner party serving delectable items such as Lobster Newburg and “Flaming” Cherries Jubilee. It’s hard to believe, but she said she couldn’t even boil water before she was married.
She took French cooking courses and believe it or not got some of her best recipes out of Playboy Magazine!!
Of course, as a child, I did not appreciate these elaborate concoctions and she dutifully removed any “offending” items from her masterpieces.
Mom and dad traveled the world with family and friends. They visited many beautiful and exotic places (and I always received very cool gifts!). But home is where she wanted to be.
In the mid-sixties mom left her beloved Bixby Knolls to allow dad to build his dream house in Huntington Harbour. Poor mom was so isolated because dad went to work each day, and I drove her fire engine red convertible Corvette Stingray to school – which was a big hit at Poly.
On the weekends my friends would come and work for dad. Mom loved it because she would visit with the guys, feed them Hebrew National hotdogs and . . . Michelob!!
After moving back to Long Beach mom started working at Carl’s Furniture. She loved hanging with “the girls”. It was a fun time for her.
For years Simone’s Donut Shop was the gathering place for the neighborhood gals and even a few of the guys. When mom was more mobile she would walk the mile, enjoy her coffee, sweets and gossip then walk home listening to her Walkman all the way.
For the 36 years Bruce and I lived in Humboldt County mom called twice a week every Wednesday and Sunday. It was a lifeline to Long Beach, a place we always called home.