Editor’s note: On Jan. 31, an overflow crowd in the Land’s End Resort Quarterdeck came together to remember Elaine Grabowski, who died Dec. 29, 2025. One of her friends, Samantha Cunningham, delivered this eulogy that speaks to how our neighbors bring us together as a community, even in death.

I’m Samantha Cunningham, and I met Elaine when I moved to Homer in the ’90s. 

I was asked here to share the Elaine Grabowski outside the fire department. I’ve been struggling with this since I was asked, for two good reasons.

First of all, separating her from the fire department is almost impossible. I know she was so much more than the Homer Volunteer Fire Department front desk. But the Emergency Responder was baked into her soul, into the choices she made every day, and into how she related to everyone she met. 

Second stumbling block for me: Any one of you could get up here and tell her story just as compellingly as I can. Elaine is like that. Every one of you who knows Elaine has a story about how she touched your life, what she did for someone, a unique and vibrant experience that you will always remember. 

Please raise your hands if Elaine ever knit or sewed something for you or your family.

This is one of the many many threads of Elaine that weave through us. Before I knew her, Elaine had a yarn shop in Homer. I never saw her knitting, but she and I quilted together for years, in a group known casually as the Firehall quilters. It was a happening thing when I joined the department in 1994, a group that set up sewing machines determinedly in the main training area, vacuumed the floor meticulously before hauling all the very heavy tables out of the center so that we could lay down quilts of all sizes. It was a group, but Elaine was the focus point of it- the one who made sure we were coming, reminded us, got us together, made sure we had an iron.  At the time Elaine and Gary (Kulesza, her husband) lived in a lovely but very small trailer, and sewing projects do not mix well with trailers. 

So many lovely things came from this loose group of quilters that changed and metamorphosized over the years. The thing that has really stuck with me is the priority of making something for those in need, taking care of our own. Again, when I say Elaine embodies the Fire Department, that’s one of the pieces. Taking care of your own. Josephine Ryan, when she had health challenges, or the Haven House Women’s shelter, or Laura Patty after we lost Gary Thomas. It wasn’t only for sad things though.  Weddings, births, life events had those small colorful pieces stitched together and painstakingly arranged until just right. I am lucky enough to have two. It brought a small group of people together, stitching into a larger community, with joy and beauty.

Please raise your hand if Elaine ever fitted a bicycle helmet for someone in your family.

This is so classic. Every year the Health Fair would find us out in the freezing wind that Alaska calls spring, teaching another generation of kids how to get off their bikes and WALK PAST THE MOOSE. I don’t know how many of you have tried to do this, but adjusting a bicycle helmet on a 4-year-old is really, really challenging. There’s the chin strap with two separate tighteners, and the padding, and the whole thing is absurdly large for them anyway. Without a helmet, though, a kid on a bicycle is head trauma waiting to happen though and Elaine was a wizard with those things!

She took it so seriously though. One of my favorite injury prevention stories is when I was walking down Pioneer Avenue and Elaine was driving by. Right after she passed me, I saw her pull over, stop the vehicle, roll down the window and read the riot act to a 10-year-old who was hot dog riding the sidewalk without his helmet. 

Words like “Where is your helmet young man!” and “You had better set a good example for your sister- I expect to see you wearing that helmet we got you next time you ride down here!” floated  over. 

To me, it was a classic example of seeing a danger and acting to try and prevent it, right then and there. Elaine walked to her own drummer on this, and heaven help the person who tried to stop her.

On that note, please raise your hand if Elaine ever sent you a text message.

Right.

Elaine liked to communicate, but on her terms. Let’s try a different one. Raise your hand if you ever got a letter or thank-you card from Elaine.

She loved the idea of going to the mailbox and pulling out that letter, a little note, written on a   beautiful card. She had the cards at the Homer Bookstore all scoped out. I have stacks of them, thanking me for something or wishing me luck. Elaine remembered events, be it birthdays or anniversaries and always looked for a way to share joy. 

Elaine was so good at talking to people in ways no-one else I know can. In three minutes with someone I thought I knew well, she would ask questions that revealed so much more than I ever knew. She asked brave questions, hard ones and she always listened to the answers. I loved reading the stories she wrote about people from the fire station, where this talent of hers shone so bright. You know who you are, out in this audience — thank you for sharing so much with Elaine and all of us by extension!

Raise your hand if Elaine ever fed you

Elaine and I both count as Foodies. For Elaine, it was also part of how she traveled to foreign lands, something she loved to think about more than do. Her passion for food extended all around, to helping people harvest their gardens, being a huge supporter of the farmer’s market, and being a Supper Club founder. I love hearing about the recipes they came up with and the themes. Elaine taught kids and adults alike cooking skills, and her energy at the Classic Cook store in Homer was awesome.

Without listing the credentials by which she earned her Foodie Badge, the real point is this. 

Elaine got it.

She got that in the act of breaking bread together, be it a 2 a.m. sandwich at a fire scene eaten with smoke and flames still billowing behind you, or a lovely planned Vietnamese themed dinner party, it’s bonding. It builds community. Lasting, strong friendships that transcend division and differences, letting us share joy and community with our neighbors.

So If you didn’t raise your hand for one of the things talked about, it’s OK — you have something else. You are here today. Elaine did that. She brought you to this place, at this time, to share a hug or a smile or someone to share your grief.  This is a piece of our community, deep and strong and true, a bedrock of who we are and the beautiful place we live. On this day I give thanks to Elaine, who brought us together once again.