Elinor Charlotte (Rickles) Eisemann died at home in Prairie Village, Kansas, on Feb. 22.

Elinor was born on Aug. 24, 1932, in New Brunswick, New Jersey, to Nathaniel Rickles (a diesel fuels engineer with Esso) and Lillyan (Mezei) Rickles (a former hat designer).  An only child, she grew up in Roselle Park, New Jersey. Her maternal grandparents, immigrants from the market town of Mateszalka in eastern Hungary, lived in the Bronx, while her paternal grandparents, immigrants from Lithuania, lived in Brooklyn. Elinor’s childhood Jewish education consisted of alternating Sunday visits to her grandparents, an occasional holiday meal and her mother’s active involvement in the local chapter of Hadassah, the Women’s Zionist Organization of America. But it was enough for her to only date Jewish boys, decline a summer job with a Maine hotel that told her she would be responsible for turning away Jewish customers, and know that Gustave Eisemann was someone with whom she could build a life, even if far away in Kansas City.

Salutatorian at her high school, Elinor was a talented pianist and played the glockenspiel in her high school marching band. Her decision to attend Wellesley College in the Boston metropolitan area was life-changing. Majoring in music, she took a non-credit seminar, “The History of the Book,” given by the special collections librarian, Hannah French. Her budding interest in book collecting was honed by exposure to all aspects of book arts — paper, ink, printing, type and bindery.

Elinor had an active social life that followed the norms of the 1950s. She babysat for spending money. One young mother asked Elinor in her senior year if she would be interested in a blind date with her brother’s roommate. Gus Eisemann was a hematology fellow at Tufts University’s New England Medical Center. The date started at Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts to see the Royal Japanese Collection — its first exhibition outside Japan. That low-commitment encounter went so well they followed up with dinner near M.I.T. and a Bruins game at Boston Garden, despite neither being a hockey fan. If their romance had not bloomed, Elinor was preparing to attend Teachers College at Columbia University in the fall of 1954. 

But bloom it did — Elinor married Gus in New York City on Nov. 7, 1954, and moved to Kansas City, where the first piece of furniture they added to their small, West Plaza apartment was a used piano. Within five years, Elinor and Gus welcomed three sons — Joel, Mark and Allan. 

Raising boys so close in age was challenging at times, but Elinor managed it seemingly effortlessly. Summer vacations were road trips, mostly to Estes Park, Colorado. On the way she provided entertainment, reading aloud from “Gulliver’s Travels,” “The Iliad” and “The Odyssey,” other classics and the fairly dense “Microbe Hunters.” In Estes Park, Elinor made the sandwiches for the family’s daily hikes in Rocky Mountain National Park. Those hikes were perhaps the most athletic activity she ever did, but Elinor loved the time with her family and the beauty of the mountains. 

Elinor and Gus had a wonderful, supportive marriage. It was not always easy being the wife of a hard working physician who was constantly on call… and who still made house calls. Her roles of wife, mother, consummate hostess and leader in various civic organizations, including Pembroke-Country Day School Parents Association, Menorah Medical Center Auxiliary, Kansas City Wellesley College Club and Congregation Beth Shalom Sisterhood, were fulfilling, but Elinor also had a less well known passion.

In 1950, antiquing with her mother during their annual summer stay in Maine, she stumbled on an 1815 edition of Flavius Josephus — its subtitle on the cover page, “The Learned and Authentic Jewish Historian and Celebrated Warrior,” piquing her interest. Who was this person whose name she had never heard? This helped precipitate Elinor’s life-long love of books. 

Elinor attended Rare Book School at Columbia University in New York with Nicholas Barker. She became a professional paper marbler and paste-paper maker, exploring various techniques at Arrowmont School of Arts and Crafts in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. She learned book preservation and conservation with Don Etherington and studied with Helmut Lehmann-Haupt at the School of Library Science, UMKC. Her varied book acquisitions began to morph into a “real” collection in 1976 when she bought a Josephus incunabulum printed in 1481 by Venetian printer Reynaldus de Novimagio. From local estate and public book sales to far-flung rare book dealers to the advent of internet purchasing, Elinor built a large collection of over 6,000 volumes on a wide range of topics. As her interests and knowledge expanded, she went down more and more rabbit holes.

The jewels of the collection, devoted to early, obscure and various language printings of Flavius Josephus, are now a valuable resource for scholars studying this period of ancient Jewish and early Christian history. Elinor donated the bulk of that collection in 2019 to the Yale University Divinity Library in memory of her father, Nathaniel Herman Rickles, Class of 1923. 

Elinor donated unusual engineering and technology books to Linda Hall Library in Kansas City, where she volunteered for many years in their Special Collections department. Elinor also volunteered on unique projects at the UMKC Miller Nichols Library and the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art’s Spencer Art Reference Library in Kansas City. Late in life, Elinor donated Judaic art books and ritual objects to the Klein Collection at The Temple, Congregation B’nai Jehudah in Overland Park, and started a new collection of pop-up books — even becoming a member of the Movable Book Society.

Her most complete collection was of the Peter Pauper Press, created and run by Peter Beilenson and his wife Edna. These books reflect both the technical and playful side to Elinor’s approach to collecting. 

Elinor had an eye for details that others often missed. On a visit to Monticello, Thomas Jefferson’s Virginia home, she noticed a grave with the name Uriah P. Levy. Elinor wondered, “How did a person with a Jewish name come to be buried here?” This simple question resulted, over many years, in a deep and wide array of ephemera and books about the US Navy’s first Jewish Commodore, who is credited with the navy fully banning flogging in 1862, as well as saving Monticello from complete decay. In 2005, the Naval Academy dedicated their newest chapel: The Commodore Uriah P. Levy Center and Jewish Chapel.

Elinor and Gus both enjoyed gardening — Elinor focused on flowers and Gus on vegetables and fruit trees. As their family grew, so did the flowering beds and wandering paths, dotted by feeders and sculpture that ensured birds and grandchildren alike found nourishment and nooks to play in. When they traveled, often for international hematology conferences, Elinor and Gus made time to visit far-flung family, rare book dealers and local synagogues. 

For her 75th birthday, Elinor’s family commissioned a book by the American/Israeli artist Andi Arnovitz, titled “Essentially Elinor.” The book captured the breadth of Elinor’s interests and expertise, her wonderful marriage, love of family and willingness to roll-up her sleeves for fun with her grandchildren — whether baking gingerbread to make gingerbread houses, helping them try paper marbling, accompanying them on the piano, exploring her garden or overseeing them hammering away on her workbench. Elinor was the one to go to if you wanted to figure out how to make or fix something, while Gus had the right words of advice for whatever the issue at hand. Part of the success of their marriage was an appreciation for what each did well and an understanding that each helped the other be their best.

Elinor’s family and friends will miss their eclectic, engaging, sometimes enigmatic, but always elegant, Elinor. She left a legacy that continues to be an inspiration to her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.

Elinor was preceded in death by her husband, Dr. Gustave Eisemann, in May 2019. She is survived by her three sons, Joel Eisemann (Maggie), Mark Eisemann (Leslie Mark) and Dr. Allan Eisemann (Dr. Marisa); eight grandchildren and five great-grandchildren. 

The family wishes to thank the wonderful caregivers from Senior Helpers who helped her over the past several months as well as KC Hospice and Palliative Care. The family suggests contributions in Elinor’s memory be made to Linda Hall Library, Congregation Beth Shalom or Hyman Brand Hebrew Academy.

Funeral services were held on Feb. 24 at Louis Memorial Chapel, with burial at Mt. Carmel Cemetery.

Online condolences for the family may be left at louismemorialchapel.com