Nana’s Story
Youngest of fifteen, center of everything
Karen Blackwell (née Fitzgerald) passed away on August 8, 2026, leaving behind a legacy of laughter, boundless hospitality, and an unshakeable devotion to family. Born in Pittsburgh, PA on September 23, 1945, Karen was the youngest of fifteen children and had a lively upbringing that undoubtedly shaped her lifelong belief that a full house was simply the right amount of house.
Alongside her husband, George Blackwell, Sr., Karen raised four children: Mark (Gretchen), Lea, George Jr. “Chip” (Kirsten), and Heather (Andrew Gersh). Known lovingly to all as Nana, Karen’s legacy continues through her ten adored grandchildren: Cassidy (Adam Kahn), Keagan, Skya, Eryn (Max Segar), Alec, Justin, Brandon, George III, Miles, and Alexandra; three cherished great-grandchildren: Luca, Luna, and Leilani; and her dear sister-in-law, Jean Tait, and nephew Jarvis (Shayla). She was preceded in death by her parents, Sadie Edith and Edward Fitzgerald, and her fourteen brothers and sisters: Alice Phyllis, Roberta, Charles, Willie Lois, Delola, Ruby, Norman, Minnie Lee, Richard, Kenneth, Sadie Mae, Cora Ann, Exabell, and Emma Jean.
While Karen was deeply connected to her entire extended family, her bond with the Powell and Vance families was extra special. The 1970s and early ’80s were defined by annual summer trips to Cleveland, where Karen and her sister Emma Jean, along with Frankie, Dan, Bob, and Brian “Kelly,” would reunite with her sister Cora and her kids, Bobby, Terry, Sherry, and Peter, for endless summer fun and unforgettable memories. That bond only deepened when the Powells eventually moved to Minnesota, keeping their tight-knit connection at the very heart of family life.
Karen’s journey took her from Pittsburgh to Montclair, NJ, and finally to Edina, Minnesota, where the party found its permanent address at 6029 St. Johns Avenue. Affectionately known as “The Party House,” 6029 was always bustling. It was the backdrop for late-night bid whist and spades games with classic R&B spinning until the wee hours, basketball in the driveway, and impromptu kickball or soccer games in the backyard. In the winter, the hill in the backyard offered the best snow sledding in town — second only to Pamela Park. Above all, 6029 wasn’t just a place to gather — it was a sanctuary of love where Nana took immense pride in ensuring that our house always felt like a true home for all.
Karen was the heartbeat of every gathering — she brought an infectious energy to the dance floor, always made sure everyone’s plates were full, and ensured that everybody who walked through her door felt like family. Even her dearest friends, Brenda, Margaret, Jane, Regina, Tommy, Karen, and Tom, were an inseparable part of the household, loved and treated like Karen’s brothers and sisters.
A true fashionista, Karen was known for her impeccable sense of style. Her time spent selling women’s clothes and jewelry at Up’s N Downs, The Limited, Zoompf, Dayton’s, Golddiggers, and The Vault was a natural fit — allowing her to guide others in elevating their own style while ensuring she always stayed well-supplied with the latest trends and sharpest looks. Once she stepped out of the retail life, Karen poured her kitchen talents into a catering venture with her dear friend Margaret. Prepping for gigs was always a celebration in itself, filled with music, dancing, and laughter as they crafted their signature guacamole and the best homemade soul food in Edina.
Music pulsed through everything Nana did. Over the years, her soundtrack evolved — from spinning 45s on the turntable and wearing out her Walkman in the kitchen, to streaming her favorite playlist from her iPhone. She was always drawn to live music, whether attending stadium shows or taking in local acts at Glam Slam and First Avenue. But just as easily, she was perfectly content vibing by the jukebox at local favorites like Grandma’s, Bud Chapman’s, or Scoreboard.
Karen will be missed beyond measure, but her vibrant spirit will remain with us always. We will feel her presence whenever we turn up a great song, gather around a crowded table, or share a good laugh. Though our hearts are heavy, Nana’s love, laughter, and light will forever play on in every life she touched. She lives on in the stories we share, the recipes we pass down, and the unconditional love Nana planted so deeply in her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Her grace, wisdom, and warmth will remain with us — a beautiful, timeless song playing softly in our hearts forever.
Her table
Her table was always filled with food and fun. Whether it was poker that went late into the night for bowls of her signature spaghetti or mac’n’cheese, everyone left full and probably with some leftovers.
And there was always room for one more chair. Nana’s family only ever grew — Gretchen’s children, Jake, Jessica, and Joe, and their kids, Willa, Mae, Josie, and Jack, were simply hers too: loved, fed, and cheered on at everything from sporting games to graduations, right alongside everyone else lucky enough to find a seat at her table.
Her people
“I was born at 3:36am. It was a number etched into my mind from the very beginning. For years growing up, a quiet clock inside me would wake me up at that exact minute. I would slip out of my waterbed, walk to my parents’ bedroom, lean over to my mom, and whisper in her ear: ‘Thank you.’ As I got older, that deep-seated impulse didn’t fade, though my delivery had to adapt. Every so often on my birthday, I’d find myself wide awake at 3:36am, pick up my phone, and start dialing her number — only to catch myself just in time, realizing that a phone ringing in the middle of the night would probably be jarring. But no matter where I was or how old I got, my internal clock never forgot. Whenever I wake up in the middle of the night, whether it’s my birthday or not, if the clock reads 3:36am, in the quiet darkness, I always say, ‘Thank you, Mom.’ Thank you for my life. Thank you for your love. Thank you for being my mom. My mom isn’t here to hear me whisper it anymore, but that connection won’t break. I will keep waking up. I will keep talking to her. And every day, for the rest of my life, I will still say thank you.”
“I am grateful toward my mother who shapes me to live life, to not be afraid to laugh, and most importantly, be me. Thank you nana. I love you.”
“The life she lived before me, the life she gave to me, the life we lived together. It’s heartbreaking and glorious at the same time. She grew up with no money in a huge family full of love and laughter. She was a teen mom, young bride, and stayed at home with 4 kids, limited options, opportunities. Yet poured everything into making her life meaningful. I couldn’t believe how strong she was because I knew sadness and darkness were always trying to find its way in. I could see her get up everyday and Just. Keep. Going. That’s what black women do. She loved people, to party, to play cards, dance, turn the music up, and would say ‘let’s just have a good time!’ She was a phenomenal cook. A patient parent. A feminist. A fighter. A sharp sense of humor. She taught me how to shop for sales, stretch a dollar, change diapers, take care of my kids, and let them make mistakes, follow their passions and live their own lives. She would say — just listen, they are telling you everything you need to know. SO WISE. She was always the best dressed. Anywhere she went — she had the shoes, bag, earrings, scarf, bracelets and belt to match. Her accessory game was so strong. My mom was my best friend. We would spill the tea, shop for hours, split meals, treat ourselves, stay up late, laugh hysterically, and complain about men. We would lay in the sun, drink spiked lemonade and not be bothered. She taught me the art of self care. She taught me a lot of things.”
“I made Nana Nana and she made me me. She encouraged my self expression and gave me the safety to find myself and to adventure out into the world because I could always return to her open doors and open arms. She was more than a Nana, she was a friend. With Nana, I could be silly, I could be smart and we could laugh for hours playing in her clothes, jewelry and make up. We hung hard and we loved each other harder. I miss you, Nana. Thank you for literally EVERYTHING.”
“I just feel so lucky to have had her as my grandma. What an amazing, unique, and loving woman she was.”
Her anthem
“But life is just a party. And parties weren’t meant to last.”
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