Florence Hill Bleich, a self‑described “tough country girl” known for her determination and compassion, passed away surrounded by the people who loved her most. Although she often said she lived a “plain life,” she made a deep impact on those around her, especially her family. Her steady kindness and strength will be remembered and carried forward by her husband, her children, and her grandchildren.

Florence was born on February 16, 1949, in Norbeck, Maryland, to Richard Henry Hill, Jr. and Ruth Naomi Hill. She grew up with her siblings, Joyce Elaine Hill and Richard Henry Hill, III. She also had a half-brother named Nathaniel Daily who preceded her in death. Her early years were marked by deep loss and a void that was never filled: when she was just 17, her mother died of heart failure, a grief that shaped her profoundly and strengthened her resolve to live with intention, resilience, and care for others.

She attended Sherwood Elementary, Junior, and Senior High School before enrolling at Morgan State College, where she earned a Bachelor of Science in health and physical education. After two years of teaching physical education in Baltimore City Public Schools, Florence realized it wasn’t the right path for her.

In her early 20s, after completing a 28-day Outward Bound program in Maine – a challenge she undertook simply to push herself – Florence met her life partner, Bill Bleich, through his sister Laurie. A visit to an apple-picking farm brought Florence and Bill together, and on September 30, 1974, they were married at the Baltimore courthouse. Afterward, they celebrated with a single shared hot dog from a street vendor on the corner, who gave it to them for free, saying, “I got murdered in there too.” Florence remembered the hot dog as being delicious. Their marriage of more than 50 years was grounded in deep partnership and devotion to their family.

Together, they raised three children – Peter, Jamie, and Sara – whom Florence considered her proudest personal achievement. She loved family life: Skateland outings filled with conversations about hairstyles and outfits; snack-time misunderstandings like “corn curls” (after Florence often said to Jamie, “let me brush your curls,” Jamie once tugged on her hair to ask for a corn curl snack, which took Florence a few minutes to understand); unchewed raisins coming out whole; Peter’s nightly habit of falling asleep with trucks and Legos tucked under his blanket; and getting the kids ready for summer camp and the days leading up to Christmas, when their excitement was infectious. These small, everyday moments were among her greatest joys.

Among her happiest memories were camping at Nickerson State Park on Cape Cod, traveling from Florida to Maine in the family’s Volkswagen camper, joining a camping trip with Peter and his Boy Scout troop, and doing Girl Scout crafts with Jamie and Sara.

Florence spent a decade of her career at Florence Crittenton Services, a residential home for teen girls in foster care, some of whom were unwed mothers or facing significant social challenges. While she was there, she reported her concerns to the state of Maryland about unsafe conditions for the girls. She was fired, filed a wrongful discharge claim, and won in 1993. The case is still cited by other lawyers.

During this time, and while her children were in high school, she returned to school at Coppin State College to earn a master’s degree in special education – where she discovered her true passion.

As a special education teacher, Florence encouraged her students to take pride in every small victory. She spent countless hours helping children develop their fine motor skills and learn personal care, such as feeding themselves, and she considered supporting their growing independence and self-sufficiency her greatest professional accomplishment. For students who were about to age out of services, she helped prepare them for placement in sheltered workshop programs where their abilities could be recognized and valued. Over the course of her career, she taught hundreds of children and firmly believed that “a small gain is a huge gain.” She often said that her time at the William S. Baer School was the best she spent as a teacher, adding, “I was very fortunate to work alongside a strong support staff of physical and occupational therapists, teacher’s aides, and many others.”

Florence was also a devoted Grandmama, pouring her love into her grandchildren—Maren, Natalia, Cecilia, and Alex—with the same warmth and patience she gave her own children. She kept their favorite snacks on hand, listened eagerly to their stories, and searched each year for matching Christmas pajamas, alongside countless trips to the zoo, the Science Center, and many other adventures.

She and Bill had “Maren Thursdays,” picking Maren up from school each week and spending time with her until bedtime. Florence attended many of Natalia’s basketball games, always cheering loudly from the sidelines. She and Bill nurtured Cecilia’s love of building by sending her a new engineering or chemistry set every month for years. They visited Alex in Charlotte, went to his soccer games, and celebrated afterward with a sweet treat—often donuts. Florence and Bill also bought each grandchild their first bike and helped them learn to ride.

Together, Florence and Bill created decades of fun and memories. They traveled frequently, both within the United States and abroad, exploring different cultures, trying new foods, and meeting new people. They shared a love of hiking and walked countless trails together. Shortly before COVID, they began a tradition of hiking every Friday – anywhere in the mid-Atlantic within about two and a half hours of home. Their hikes often ended with a sweet treat and a cup of coffee. And after returning home, Bill would send photos from their outing to friends and family. The thing Florence appreciated most about Bill was “making memories together with the children and grandchildren.”

Service was woven deeply into Florence’s life. After her father’s passing and seeing how busy nursing home staff often were, she began volunteering at local nursing homes, where she offered hand massages, “100 strokes” with the hairbrush, footbaths, laughter over old magazine ads, and activities to support fine motor skills. She also volunteered at a soup kitchen called Our Daily Bread where she served breakfast twice a week and was humbled by the gratitude shown by those she served. And she would frequently pick up litter around her neighborhood, believing that small actions could improve a community – and inspire others to care as well.

In her spare time, Florence loved browsing secondhand stores for clothes – for herself and her grandkids – and for knickknacks like the thick, old blue glass pieces she considered “plain but elegant.” She also painted, primarily with watercolors – a quiet talent few people knew about.

Florence faced life’s challenges with unwavering grit. Diagnosed with breast cancer in 1990, she fought with quiet determination and lived in remission for more than 30 years. She felt deeply fortunate to watch her children grow, welcome grandchildren, and experience a full life.

When asked what she wanted to be remembered for, Florence said simply, “Helping to raise you three wonderful children who have wonderful children.” And while that legacy alone would have been remarkable, her impact extended far beyond her family. She lifted up students who needed patience, comforted elders who needed companionship, and fed neighbors who needed food. She always looked for the underdog—and found a way to help.

Florence may have called herself “plain,” but her life was rich, textured, and quietly extraordinary. Determined – her chosen word for herself – is exactly how she lived: determined to care, determined to serve, and determined to love.

Her message to her children and grandchildren is this: “From the cockles of my heart, I thank you. I have not always been perfect, but I did my best, and I really hope it was enough. And always remember what Grandpa said—go to work and pay your bills.”  Florence also extends her heartfelt thanks to Lisa, Preston, and Randy for their devotion to Peter, Jamie, and Sara.

Those who knew Florence will carry her lessons, her resilience, her frankness, and her giving heart forever. Florence wished to thank all those who so generously shared their lives with her.