Women’s History Month Spotlight: Nikki Feinsot

We have all been impacted by exceptional women in history. Names that come to mind include Amelia Earhart, Rosa Parks, and Eleanor Roosevelt. There were lesser-known but equally awe-inspiring women throughout history; one story, in particular, has continued to impact my life.

Her birth year was 1924. Calvin Coolidge was in office and became the first President to deliver a radio broadcast from the White House. Also of note, Coolidge enacted the Indian Citizenship Act into law that same year, granting United States citizenship to Native Americans.

Born and raised on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC, she was exposed to more of the realities of our political landscape and the world than most living in other areas of the country. Her family was upper-middle-class, and she, her brother, and her sister would fight to sit on the rumble seat of the family car. When she turned five, the Great Depression reared its ugly head, and her family lost everything. Her father, an attorney, found work at a paint shop, and she stepped up and baked and sold homemade goods for a small profit. She also babysat to help family friends, primarily using a barter system as money was hard to come by. Education was always important, and she did her best to find reading resources to excel in her learning.

In 1940, as the depression started to ease, she began dating. It wasn’t long before she met her husband, Maurice Mahoney, in 1942. Soon after they were married, he left to serve in WWII.

She fondly recalled the culture in DC during this time as a period of “empowerment” for women, and females in general, who stepped up while their husbands were away and kept things running on the home front. She was no exception. The women stepped into jobs that would never have been available had the men not been off fighting in the war. She took a clerical position at the Department of Defense and felt her work made a difference in “keeping DC running.”

In 1944, she received a call. Maurice had been injured in the war. He had been hiding under a tank blown up by the enemy fire and suffered severe shrapnel wounds, including third-degree burns covering his back and legs. He was sent home to recover.

Maurice began his rehabilitation but never fully recovered. She and Maurice had a son in 1945 and two daughters in 1947 and 1950, respectively. Maurice passed away in 1953 with congestive heart failure due to his injuries compounded by having had scarlet fever as a child. She was widowed with her three children, now considered “war orphans,” as their father had died during the war. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery.

She did her best to raise her children, ages 8, 6, and 3, as a single mother. Their education was her top priority, so she cut corners wherever possible to send them to Catholic school. As a devout Catholic, she leaned on her family and friends for support and never wavered in her faith. In 1956 she was introduced to Dominic Mancini through mutual friends, they began a courtship, and ultimately, they married in 1958. Dominic was a great man who loved her dearly and her kids as his own.

In 1959, she and Dominic were blessed with a daughter; now, they were a family of six. Dominic was in the Navy and stationed on a ship in the Mediterranean for a year but returned to his family healthy. She never wavered on the importance of education and volunteered at a school for children with disabilities called St. Coletta. She felt fortunate to be able to provide her own children with a private education and wanted to support others with that same need or desire.

Unfortunately, Dominic’s health was not to last. Dominic broke his neck several years later in a freak boating accident. In 1971, he succumbed to his injuries, and she was once again a widow. He, too, was buried at Arlington National Cemetery.

She did her best to move on with her life again. Her three children with her first husband were older and out of the house now, but she had her 12-year-old daughter, whom she had shared with Dominic. Once again, she found herself leaning on family for support and busy working at St. Coletta and always keeping her faith.

In the early 1980s, thru mutual friends, she was introduced to Henry Sadler. After dating for a year, they became engaged and soon married. Her children were all grown and out of the house, and she had grandkids to share on this occasion. Henry was also a widow, so they could lean on each other, share stories and feelings, and create an extraordinary life on a lake in Clarksville, Virginia. The entire family would visit, and it became a hub for holidays and family vacations. They had 30 years in their lakeside home before Henry, too, passed away from complications with a blood disorder. She was by his side in his last moments. Having served most of his career in the Army, Henry was also buried at Arlington National Cemetery.

I’m proud to say that the amazing woman I am talking about is my grandma, Kathleen Gray Mahoney Mancini Sadler. While she lived a life with much heartache, you would never hear a complaint from her. She volunteered at her church and countless other organizations because she had always been gifted with so much. She was very proud of her family and embraced her role as the matriarch with much pride. My grandma lived her life with faith as her foundation, and her resiliency was remarkable. She always led by example, whether intentional or not, and I will forever aspire to be like her.

Kathleen Gray Mahoney Mancini Sadler was buried at Arlington National Cemetery.