Nancy Horn

She met our father, Charles, on a blind date, and that night at a drive-in movie, sparks flew. Charles and Nancy were married on July 11, 1953 — he a Great Lakes sailor, she a Registered Nurse. They made their home in Rogers City and began raising their family together.

Like so many women who married sailors, Mom was, in many ways, a single mother. The work of rearing, raising, feeding, and caring for her children fell squarely on her shoulders. They were single mothers before “single mother” was even a term. It goes without saying that she had her hands full.

Our mother’s life with us was epic. In every way, she embodied what an ideal mother could ever hope to be. She set aside her nursing career for many years to focus entirely on raising her children. She volunteered for everything imaginable. She baked twelve loaves of bread each week for twenty-six years — do the math on that one — and her baking skills rivaled the best bakeries.

She made sure we learned to swim, a skill she herself never had. She hand-knit sweaters, coats, mittens, and socks for us, and taught herself to sew so she could make down vests, coats, and mittens. Her knitted and crocheted afghans were incredible. She got us involved in scouting, baseball, football, and track. Our clothes and uniforms were always impeccably clean and ready to wear.

She mended us after surgeries, stitches, childhood illnesses, and broken hearts — and she did it all without complaint or bitterness. She exemplified love in every way possible. She cooked, baked, and helped countless people in their times of need. Her donations to various organizations were extraordinary. And when times were hard, she would simply say, “Just offer it up for penance.”

Was our mother perfect? No — she was fallible like all of us. Did she sometimes lash out in anger? Absolutely. Were people sometimes offended by her? Yes, it happened more than once. But there were reasons for all of that. She was born during the Depression and lived through a world constantly in flux. In the last ten years, living alone, the rapid changes in technology, social media, politics, and this new alternate reality finally overwhelmed her ability to understand. When it became too much, she stopped trying to make sense of things that simply didn’t make sense to her. Yet she was always aware when she hurt someone, and she would send a card of apology to anyone she felt she had offended. So yes, she could be a little feisty — but her heart was always focused on the people she loved and cared for most. As each of us age, we too will confront that thing called the human condition. She always tried her best, no matter what she did, and she left us with a blueprint for life that we can now see clearly and build upon.

She was preceded in death by our father, Charles; her parents, N.J. and Ann; all five of her siblings — James, Karen, Sally, Ann, and Todd — as well as two of her sons, Christian and Matthew, and a daughter-in-law, Debra (Mark).

She is survived by her sons Mike (Laura) Horn, Mark Horn, and his significant other Sue Zielaskowski, Tim (Karen) Horn and her only daughter Kathy (Joe) Corcoran.

She may be gone from us now, but huge parts of her will always remain — in the way we live, the way we love, and the way we care for one another. We hope those pieces of her continue to be passed down to her grandchildren: Alicia, Christy, Michelle, Kelly, Lindsay, Jami, Kaitlin, Matthew, Jessica, Eric, and Katherine, as well as her eleven great-grandchildren.

In the end, Mom’s legacy is simple and profound: she gave everything she had to the people she loved. Her life was built on service, sacrifice, faith, and an unshakeable devotion to her family. Though we will miss her every day, we take comfort in knowing that the best parts of her — her strength, her generosity, her quiet resilience — live on in all of us.

Visitation will take place Feb. 27, 2026, at St. Ignatius Catholic Church, Rogers City, beginning at 9 a.m. Funeral Mass to follow at 11 a.m. Inurnment will take place at Mount Calvary Cemetery later this summer. Online condolences may be sent to hentkowskifuneral.com.

Memorials are suggested to St. Ignatius Catholic School and St. John Lutheran School.