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Weedygarden

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This came from a friend and I found it to be an interesting read. Over the years, there have been a few obituaries that I have seen that I found well written. I have also seen some pretty badly written ones.

http://www.geisenfuneralhome.com/m/?p=memorial&id=2064544

Terry Ward of DeMotte, IN | 1946 - 2018 | Obituary
2064544_profile_pic.jpg

Terry Ward

Born: December 31, 1946

Died: January 23, 2018

Terry Wayne Ward, age 71, of DeMotte, IN, escaped this mortal realm on Tuesday, January 23rd, 2018, leaving behind 32 jars of Miracle Whip, 17 boxes of Hamburger Helper and multitudes of other random items that would prove helpful in the event of a zombie apocalypse.

Terry is survived by his overly-patient and accepting wife Kathy, who was the love of his life (a fact she gladly accepted sympathy for during their 48 years of marriage). He is also survived by daughters Rebecca (William) Hines and Jean (Jeff) Lahm; sister, Linda; brother, Phil; grandchildren: Alexander and Hannah Hines (The Mesopotamians), Daphne and Erin Pistello (The Daffer and Peanut), Brendan and Owen Lahm (Phineas and Ferb) and Tessa McMurry (Smiley).

He is preceded in death by his parents Paul and Bernice Ward, daughter Laura Pistello, grandson Vincent Pistello, brother Kenneth Ward, a 1972 Rambler and a hip.

Terry graduated from Thornridge High School in South Holland, IL, where only three of his teachers took an early retirement after having had him as a student. He met the love of his life, Kathy, by telling her he was a lineman – he didn’t specify early on that he was a lineman for the phone company, not the NFL. Still, Kathy and Terry wed in the fall of 1969, perfectly between the Summer of Love and the Winter of Regret.

Terry volunteered his service in the United States Army and was an active combat Veteran in the Viet Nam War.

He retired from AT&T (formerly Ameritech, formerly formerly Indiana Bell) after 39 years of begrudging service, where he accumulated roughly 3,000 rolls of black electrical tape during the course of his career (which he used for everything from open wounds to “Don’t use this button” covers).

He enjoyed many, many things. Among those things were hunting, fishing, golfing, snorkeling, ABBA, hiking Turkey Run, chopping wood, shooting guns, Bed Bath & Beyond, starlight mints, cold beer, free beer, The History Channel, CCR, war movies, discussing who makes the best pizza, The Chicago White Sox, old Buicks, and above all, his family.

He was a renowned distributor of popsicles and ice cream sandwiches to his grandchildren. He also turned on programs such as “Phineas and Ferb” for his grand-youngins, usually when they were actually there.

He despised “uppity foods” like hummus, which his family lovingly called “bean dip” for his benefit, which he loved consequently. He couldn’t give a damn about most material things, and automobiles were never to be purchased new. He never owned a personal cell phone and he had zero working knowledge of the Kardashians.

Terry died knowing that The Blues Brothers was the best movie ever, (young) Clint Eastwood was the baddest-ass man on the planet, and hot sauce can be added to absolutely any food.

Tremendous and heartfelt thanks go to the truly exceptional nurses at Southlake Methodist Hospital Neuro-Intensive Care Unit, who provided much more than nursing care for Terry, but also provided a peaceful and compassionate environment during his transition from this life to the next.

Friends can visit with the family on Saturday, January 27, from Noon until the time of the Funeral Service at 4:00 PM, with Pastor Mark Wilkins officiating, at Geisen Funeral, Cremation & Receptions Centre, 606 E. 113th Ave., Crown Point, IN. Services will conclude at the funeral home.

Memorial donations in Terry’s name can be made to your favorite charity or your favorite watering hole, where you are instructed to tie a few on and tell a few stories of the great Terry Ward.
 
The Penny Grave

Not too far from us is the “Penny Grave”. The penny grave is the site where a little girl, age 3, name unknown, died on the wagon train going west and was buried. A beautiful headstone tells her story. She is everybody's little girl. People visit and leave coins on her headstone, children leave toys. She belongs to all of us. She will be forever remembered, not by name, not by death, but because her little life meant something to everyone. It is sad to think that such a tiny life ended so soon. It is even sadder to think of the parents that had to leave her on the trail. People come and go in our lives. We are just here for a little while. It is comforting to know people care enough to watch over a little girl they never knew.
https://www.bing.com/images/search?...rings&qpvt=penny+grave+sipe+springs&FORM=IGRE
 
The Penny Grave

Not too far from us is the “Penny Grave”. The penny grave is the site where a little girl, age 3, name unknown, died on the wagon train going west and was buried. A beautiful headstone tells her story. She is everybody's little girl. People visit and leave coins on her headstone, children leave toys. She belongs to all of us. She will be forever remembered, not by name, not by death, but because her little life meant something to everyone. It is sad to think that such a tiny life ended so soon. It is even sadder to think of the parents that had to leave her on the trail. People come and go in our lives. We are just here for a little while. It is comforting to know people care enough to watch over a little girl they never knew.
https://www.bing.com/images/search?...rings&qpvt=penny+grave+sipe+springs&FORM=IGRE
I have a few family members who died in their passage to America or as children very early on when coming to America. As someone who has done a lot of family research, these family members may never be found, or only found on the other side.

There were probably many sad people who lost their children early on. One of my gg uncles had 8 children, 4 who lived past early adulthood.
 
William "Freddie" McCullough
Obituary



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William Freddie McCullough - BLOOMINGDALE - The man. The myth. The legend. Men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him. William Freddie McCullough died on September 11, 2013. Freddie loved deep fried Southern food smothered in Cane Syrup, fishing at Santee Cooper Lake, Little Debbie Cakes, Two and a Half Men, beautiful women, Reeses Cups and Jim Beam. Not necessarily in that order. He hated vegetables and hypocrites. Not necessarily in that order. He was a master craftsman who single -handedly built his beautiful house from the ground up. Freddie was also great at growing fruit trees, grilling chicken and ribs, popping wheelies on his Harley at 50 mph, making everyone feel appreciated and hitting Coke bottles at thirty yards with his 45. When it came to floor covering, Freddie was one of the best in the business. And he loved doing it. Freddie loved to tell stories. And you could be sure 50% of every story was true. You just never knew which 50%. Marshall Matt Dillon, Ben Cartwright and Charlie Harper were his TV heroes. And he was the hero for his six children: Mark, Shain, Clint, Brandice, Ashley and Thomas. Freddie adored the ladies. And they adored him. There isn't enough space here to list all of the women from Freddie's past. There isn't enough space in the Bloomingdale phone book. A few of the more colorful ones were Momma Margie, Crazy Pam, Big Tittie Wanda, Spacy Stacy and Sweet Melissa (he explained that nickname had nothing to do with her attitude). He attracted more women than a shoe sale at Macy's. He got married when he was 18, but it didn't last. Freddie was no quitter, however, so he gave it a shot two more times. It didn't work out with any of the wives, but he managed to stay friends with them and their parents. In between his many adventures, Freddie appeared in several films including The Ordeal of Dr. Mudd, A Time for Miracles, The Conspirator, Double Wide Blues and Pretty Fishes. When Freddie took off for that pool party in the sky, he left behind his sons Mark McCullough, Shain McCullough and his wife Amy, Clint McCullough and his wife Desiree, and Thomas McCullough and his wife Candice; and his daughters Brandice Chambers and her husband Michael, Ashley Cooler and her husband Justin; his brothers Jimmie and Eddie McCullough; and his girlfriend Lisa Hopkins; and seven delightful grandkids. Freddie was killed when he rushed into a burning orphanage to save a group of adorable children. Or maybe not. We all know how he liked to tell stories.

Savannah Morning News September 14, 2013.


http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/savannah/obituary.aspx?pid=166950349
 
I hope that the bullies are dealt with.

http://www.eastgatefuneral.com/obituary/cherish-chance-houle?lud=C77E579FCBB4416AF9C4ACFC728F62B6

Cherish "Chance" Houle
July 17, 2005 - March 31, 2018

Cherish “Chance” Houle, 12, Bismarck, died March 31, 2018.

Cherish “Chance” was born on July 17, 2005, in Minot, ND, to Nathan Houle and Jessica Chiefstick. She grew up in Minot and began attending school there. In 2009, Cherish and her family moved to Bismarck where she continued her education in Bismarck. Most recently, she was attending the 7th grade in Bismarck.

Cherish was an uplifting person to be around, always concerned for the well-being of those around her. She always had a smile on her face and loved nothing more than to make people laugh. Cherish was very close to her family and enjoyed talking to people about her siblings and parents and loved them deeply. She loved to draw and listen to music.

Cherish experienced intense pain most people her age will never know. Throughout the last 6 months of her life, she experienced continual transition and intense bullying at school. While the news is currently highlighting violence as the result of bullying. Cherish’s support systems saw a very different result. Those who loved Cherish didn’t know how unbearable that pain she was experiencing had become for her. The support and love she was able to receive from those around her wasn’t enough to heal the scars of the relentless bullying she had already suffered. Cherish didn’t harm others or turn to drugs and alcohol to deal with her pain, she took her life on March 31st, 2018.

The word bullying doesn’t begin to encompass ugliness and pain it causes. The ugly truth of bullying is someone who loved Cherish had to open the bedroom door and see what they saw on Saturday. The ugly truth of bullying is those who loved Cherish can’t close their eyes at night because they can’t get the image out of their head. The ugly truth of bullying is doing CPR for 4 minutes and 26 seconds. It’s listening to 911 operator tell you to go faster and push harder. It’s knowing that you didn’t open the door early enough for it to matter anyway. It’s that Cherish isn’t here anymore.

The Houle/Chiefstick family lost a beautiful member of their family. Cherish was a beautiful soul who no longer has to suffer pain and rejection here on Earth.

Cherish’s family and support systems want the public to be aware of her situation in hopes that it will prevent tragedies such as this from occurring again. They are asking that parents talk to their children and find out answers to hard question. Are they being bullied? Are they the bully? Have they witnessed bullying and it broke their heart, but they were glad they weren’t the target today? Did they not know what to do and walked away? Or joined in the laughter because they didn’t want to attract the attention of other bullies in the crowd. We are asking you to teach your children that our words are our most powerful resource and we need to be careful to use that precious resource to positively affect people. Teach your children what to do if someone they know is talking about suicide. Teach them who to call for help.

To those of you who were kind to Cherish, thank you. Your love and acceptance meant the world to her. To Cherish, thank you for coming into all our lives. We are all much better for it. Fly high and carry our love forever. You will be greatly missed.

She is survived by her mom, Jessica; her dad, Nathan; siblings, Santana, Sonte, Maliyah, Nathan Jr., and Yuri; her grandmas, Marina Cheifstick and Judy Nelson; and many aunts, uncles, and cousins.

She was preceded in death by her grandpas, Leon Houle and Noble Mooseamen; her aunts, Deena and Kristen; and her uncle, Leslie.

Visitation will be held Thursday, April 5, 2018, from 10am-12 Noon at Eastgate Funeral Service, 2302 E Divide Ave., in Bismarck, ND.
 
https://www.3newsnow.com/news/local-news/norfolk-man-101-has-hilarious-obituary

Verne Petersen decided enough was enough on July 10, 2018, just eight days before his spouse’s birthday and 41 days before their 70th wedding anniversary.

When you are reduced to drinking tepid, thickened coffee and chocolate no longer tastes good, it is time to go. Plus it gave him the best excuse for not acknowledging his spouse’s birthday or their anniversary. (She was the proud recipient of a new dust pan one year.) He was 101 years and four months, and it was his opinion that no one should live that long.

Verne was born in Huron, S.D., on Feb. 25, 1917, to a Danish father and a Norwegian mother. He never understood why they gave him a name neither could pronounce and most people misspelled. In later life, he grew to appreciate using this as a screening tool for unwanted solicitations.

Verne took a job with the Chicago & Northwestern Railway in September 1938. He was transferred to Norfolk in July of 1940 and drafted and inducted into the U.S. Army in August 1941, where he served until Oct. 23, 1945. When offered the opportunity to make the Army his career, he emphatically declined and returned to his job with the railroad. He continued to work for the railroad until his retirement in July 1977.

Verne married Anna Lorenzen on Aug. 22, 1948. He was amazed and thankful until the day he died that she said yes. (His Army buddies were also shocked.) Some of his final words were his vow to love her “forever and always.” They raised five children together. He made countless trips to Lincoln, helping children move into and out of dorm rooms and apartments with a minimum of complaints.

Verne enjoyed making himself laugh, and it didn’t matter if anyone else got the joke. Laurel and Hardy, W.C. Fields, Fred Allen, Rube Goldberg and James Thurber were some of his favorite humorists. He liked playing with words and could turn anything into a curse. He would talk in song lyrics just to amuse himself and then quiz people on the rest of the lyrics to the songs.

Verne was a collector of stamps (before the infamous chicken stamp honoring the poultry association), arrowheads, coins, fossils, guns, interesting rocks, bits of metal, gears, doorknobs, etc. He liked to share his collections, and if visitors were not careful, they would often find their vehicles a little heavier when they left.

Survivors include his patient, long-suffering spouse, Anna Petersen of Norfolk; a daughter, Karen (James) Imler of St. Louis, Mo.; a daughter, Helen Petersen of Portland, Ore.; a son, Alan (Melinda) Petersen of Overland Park, Kan.; his grandchildren: Fred (Nichole) Petersen, David (Rhianon Kaye) Imler, Sandy (Trish) Petersen, Douglas Imler and Sarah (Karlene) Petersen; his great-grandchildren: Hannah, Olive, Owen, Ellie, Albert, Marah, Toby and Carter; and his sisters-in-law, Catherine Hansen, Alice Bradley and Betty Lorenzen.

Verne was preceded in death by his parents; his mother-in-law, Catherine (Hoos) Lorenzen; his dog, Sport; his sister, Bernice Petersen; his cat, Cat Ballou; his replacement cat, Stupid Cat; his sons, Loren and Steven Petersen; his daughter-in-law, Edith Petersen; most of his classmates; his army buddies; his eye sight, hearing and most of his teeth; six brothers-in-law, John Lorenzen, Chris Roth, Brad Bradley, Elmer Hansen, Herman Hansen and Carsten Lorenzen; his filter; most of his coworkers on the Cheap and Nothing Wasted Railway; his sisters-in law, Ruth Hansen and Mildred Lorenzen; all his cars; and most of his cousins. When you live to be over 101, the list gets pretty long.

Condolences may be expressed to the family online at www.stonacekfuneralchapel.com.
 
If this is a trigger for you, don't read any further. It's about murder.
Okay, Weedy, this is a sad story. I'll include some of the paragraphs, and the link to the story.
At some point we drove past the entrance to this place, but did not go in. The speed limit is 70 or 75 as you fly past on a winding country road, down a hill to the entrance, not much time to prepare for the turn. Maybe another time.
This article is about Babyhead Cemetery and how it got it's name. There are different accounts of what happened and why, but this article explained it better than other articles I've read.
The Mystery of Babyhead Mountain
Written by Dale Fry
" For over 100 years, the presence of Babyhead Mountain, a rugged hill lying some nine and a half miles north of Llano, has given foreboding testimony to one of the most gruesome—and controversial—incidents to have ever occurred in Llano County. It was here that a search party discovered the dismembered body of a missing child, her head impaled on a stick near the summit of the hill.

...In the late John E. Conner’s book, A Great While Ago,--published just twelve years ago in 1983 (Eakin Publications, Inc.,Austin)--Conner wrote an account of the Babyhead tragedy, drawn from oral reports he heard when he was a child.

Conner, an esteemed professor of history at Texas A&M University in Corpus Christi for over 25 years, was born in Llano county in 1883 and grew up in the Pontotoc/Field Creek area not far from Babyhead Mountain "as the crow files."

The late professor wrote that when he was a small boy he heard "many stories of Indian raids…the mobbing, the maiming, the murders.."and added,"…such were the topics of conversations."

http://www.texfiles.com/llanotexas/llano-texas-history/babyhead.htm
You have to read the entire article to find out the REAL STORY.
 
An obituary printed in the New York Times:

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:

– Knowing when to come in out of the rain;

– Why the early bird gets the worm;

– Life isn’t always fair;

– And maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don’t spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn’t defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death,

-by his parents, Truth and Trust,

-by his wife, Discretion,

-by his daughter, Responsibility,

-and by his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 5 stepbrothers;

– I Know My Rights

– I Want It Now

– Someone Else Is To Blame

– I’m A Victim

– Pay me for Doing Nothing

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

Share this with friends by clicking below if you remember Common Sense!
 
https://www.rgj.com/story/news/2014...e-theresa-johnson-reddicks-obituary/11321891/

Editor's note: The text below shows how Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick's obituary appeared in Tuesday's Reno Gazette-Journal. Reddick died Aug. 30, not Sept. 30.


Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick

January 4, 1935

Sept. 30, 2013

Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick born Jan 4, 1935 and died alone on Sept. 30, 2013. She is survived by her 6 of 8 children whom she spent her lifetime torturing in every way possible. While she neglected and abused her small children, she refused to allow anyone else to care or show compassion towards them. When they became adults she stalked and tortured anyone they dared to love. Everyone she met, adult or child was tortured by her cruelty and exposure to violence, criminal activity, vulgarity, and hatred of the gentle or kind human spirit.
________

On behalf of her children whom she so abrasively exposed to her evil and violent life, we celebrate her passing from this earth and hope she lives in the afterlife reliving each gesture of violence, cruelty, and shame that she delivered on her children. Her surviving children will now live the rest of their lives with the peace of knowing their nightmare finally has some form of closure.Most of us have found peace in helping those who have been exposed to child abuse and hope this message of her final passing can revive our message that abusing children is unforgiveable, shameless, and should not be tolerated in a "humane society". Our greatest wish now, is to stimulate a national movement that mandates a purposeful and dedicated war against child abuse in the United States of America.

The international media spotlight is shining on a family from Northern Nevada who made waves earlier this week when they submitted a scathing obituary to the Reno Gazette-Journal about their abusive mother who died Aug. 30.

Two of Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick's adult children, Katherine Reddick and Patrick Reddick, agreed to submit the obit to RGJ.com that started off with the line, "She is survived by her 6 of 8 children whom she spent her lifetime torturing in every way possible."

Here's what others are reporting:

From Inside Edition:

New York, NY — September 13, 2013 — Inside Edition's Jim Moret speaks exclusively with Patrick Reddick, who with his sister Katherine, wrote a scathing obituary about their abusive mother, Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick, who died in Reno last month.

Reddick tells Inside Edition that Johnson-Reddick beat and abused him and his seven siblings, and ran a brothel out of their home in Reno, Nev.

"Typically the beatings were two to three times a day, every time she'd go off," says Reddick.

More here from Inside Edition.

From The Daily Mail in London:

The son who co-wrote a vicious obituary for his mother that went viral because of its shocking claims of abuse and torture today revealed that he sang "ding dong the witch is dead" when he heard about her death.

A completely unrepentant Patrick Reddick, 58, said that he smiled and felt a wave of relief at the news Marianne Theresa Johnson-Reddick, 78, had passed away on August 30.

She terrorized him so much that even when he went to see her a week before she died he insisted doctors sedate her - and wore sunglasses as a disguise in case she woke up.

The Huffington Post via the Associated Press:

Six of Johnson-Reddick's eight children were admitted to the Nevada Children's Home from 1963 to 1964 after they endured regular beatings, sometimes with a metal-tipped belt, and other abuse at the hands of their mother, Patrick Reddick said. He said he's had phone calls from "all over the world" about the obituary.

"Everything in there was completely true," he told the Associated Press on Thursday, describing her as a "wicked, wicked witch."

The Herald Sun in Australia:

Reddick beat her children when they returned from foster care in a children's home on the weekends, and made them sleep on the floor while she ran a prostitution business from home, Mr. (Patrick) Reddick said.

He does not keep photos of his mother because they make him nervous.

When Mr. Reddick returned to see his mother for the last time, he was so scared he asked doctors to sedate her and wore sunglasses so she wouldn't recognize him if she woke up, he said.
 
ya know how they say you shouldn't search for people you know on the internet? Well, I did that last year for a guy I went to high school with. We had a lot of fun in classes and I graduated earlier than he did and I never knew what happened to him. He wasn't listed on any "Class of whatever" lists I found for my high school.

I found that he had a passed away the year before on the streets of Memphis, Tennessee, homeless, alcoholic, and alone. Every year at Christmas time a church there has a solemn candlelight walk in memory and honor of the homeless who have passed away that year in Memphis. He was one who was honored. I cried a little while over that. We called him Riney.
 
ya know how they say you shouldn't search for people you know on the internet? Well, I did that last year for a guy I went to high school with. We had a lot of fun in classes and I graduated earlier than he did and I never knew what happened to him. He wasn't listed on any "Class of whatever" lists I found for my high school.

I found that he had a passed away the year before on the streets of Memphis, Tennessee, homeless, alcoholic, and alone. Every year at Christmas time a church there has a solemn candlelight walk in memory and honor of the homeless who have passed away that year in Memphis. He was one who was honored. I cried a little while over that. We called him Riney.
There are many people who are homeless and struggling while living on the streets. It is mostly their own making, but addictions and mental health issues are the primary causes. It is hard for me to drive through areas where there are many homeless people. I do not give anyone standing on a corner begging anything. My daughter used to, when she was much younger. She befriended a couple of people who regularly worked certain corners. She knew them by name and would speak with them, find out how they were doing and give them food and a buck or two. She had one friend, Bill, who was a homeless veteran. She never got out of the car, but would roll up, roll down the window, have a conversation as long as the traffic light allowed.

There was a man who sat in front of me in World History in h.s. He and his extended family live in the area I live in. I only learned that accidentally when I was reading obituaries in the newspaper about 20 years ago. It has always been one of the things I have done, and it may be because of being raised by grandparents who came from large families and knowing so many older people die when I was a child. He and I are Facebook friends. Evidently, he has struggled with addiction, but has been clean and sober for many years. He bought a condo about the same time I bought my house in 1990, both being HUD properties. He also did some work that left him with very limited vision.

Old age takes many people. It is sad when people are addicted and cannot find their way out of it. My dad died due to alcoholism. His death was a relief to his children.
 
Son explains why he wrote a savage obituary after mother’s death
THE US man whose blistering obituary about his dead mum went viral has revealed the reasons behind his decision to publish the very brutal public take-down.

THE son who wrote a harsh obituary about his late mother has spoken out about why he and his sister decided to reveal why they felt “this world is a much better place without” Kathleen Dehmlow.

Jay Dehmalo, 58, told the Daily Mail that his mother, who died last week at the age of 80, prompted a dysfunctional childhood for him, and his sister, Gina, after she became pregnant by her brother-in-law.

“We wanted to finally get the last word,” Dehmalo said. “You could write it all down in a book or turn it into a movie and people wouldn’t believe what we went through.”

The siblings wrote that Dehmlow “abandoned” them in 1962 as she became pregnant and moved to California. Dehmlow’s parents then raised Dehmalo and his sister, reports Fox News.

“She passed away on May 31, 2018 in Springfield and will now face judgment,” the now-removed obituary read. “She will not be missed by Gina and Jay, and they understand that this world is a better place without her.”

Dehmlow’s sister, Judy, described the obituary to the Daily Mail as “nasty,” and said it had “hurt the family tremendously” before questioning why people are discussing it because “it’s not important.”

“Not important?” Dehmalo said to the Daily Mail. “Sure. They have no idea what we went through and back then, in the ’50s and ’60s, nobody talked about anything.”

The 58-year-old said he and his sister had to piece together information about their family and mother throughout their lives, claiming the two didn’t know they had half-brothers until years after they were born.

The rare instances Dehmalo recalls her taking a break from “having a great life in California with her other kids” and visiting them, the two “didn’t have so much as a card from her. I remember she came home twice and on one occasion she was showing pictures of her and her kids playing cards, drinking beers”.

“Gina and I were standing in the room, just standing there and she didn’t even acknowledge us,” he said. “It’s like we didn’t exist.”

The “revenge obituary” was pulled from the Redwood Falls Gazette and removed from Legacy.com.
obituary.JPG
 
https://www.schluterbalikfuneralhom...XgpkREE4tvceIvCk45s8d6DVfHPDnB5czJUY3y5sVzzfs

Tim Schrandt
June 11, 1955 - March 29, 2019

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Tim Schrandt, age 63, of Spillville, IA died on Friday, March 29, 2019 at Gundersen Health System in LaCrosse, WI after a short battle with cancer.

A funeral service will be held at 11:00 a.m., Thursday, April 4, 2019 at the St. Wenceslaus Catholic Church in Spillville with Deacon Pat Malanaphy presiding, burial will be in the church cemetery with full military rites.

Visitation will be from 3:00 – 7:00 p.m. on Wednesday, April 3, 2019 at the St. Wenceslaus Catholic Church in Spillville and also after 10:00 a.m. at the Church on Thursday morning.

Tim Schrandt (Lynyrd) made his last inappropriate comment on March 29, 2019. If you are wondering if you may have ever met him, you didn't -because you WOULD remember. For those of you that did meet him, we apologize, as we're sure he probably offended you. He was world renowned for not holding back and telling it like it is.

Tim was born to William (Bill) Schrandt and Mary (Schrandt) Manning on June 11,1955 - 100 years too late. Given Tim's demeanor he would have been the perfect weathered cowboy in the old west or rough and tough pioneer, or maybe he just should have been Amish.

Tim was the 4th of 8 kids, the bottom rung of the top tier (the big kids). Instead of taking his place on that rung, listening to the older kids and doing as he was told by his older siblings, he decided to anoint himself "king" of the 4 little kids. Tim spent his childhood and early adulthood ordering them around and in general, tormenting them. He was a great orator, (not like Shakespear, but more like Yogi Berra), as he always had something to say,
and always had to get in the last word.

His position as "king" and orator was challenged by the nuns at St. Wenceslaus school in Spillville. He may have met his match. We’re not saying the nuns won, but they put up a good fight, we mean literally - he got into a fist-a-cuff with a nun. In fairness, she probably started it. You didn't take a swing at Tim and not expect one back. Tim's fondness for authority (his own - not others) followed him to South Winneshiek High School in Calmar and later into the Army. This provided for many interesting episodes and stories, detentions and demotions, and a few "run ins" with the law, not just locally, but globally.

Tim worked at Camcar/Stanley Black and Decker in Decorah as a tool and die maker for 30 plus years. Tim worked with many friends and “a bunch of morons”. His words, not ours. Well not exactly his, words because that would have included a bunch of swear words.

Tim leaves behind a hell of a lot of stuff that his family doesn't know what to do with. So, if you are looking for a Virgin Mary in a bathtub shrine (you Catholics know what we’re talking about) you should wait the appropriate amount of time and get in touch with them.

Tomorrow would be fine.

In addition to his stuff he leaves behind two great boys who he was extremely proud of, Cody (Jenny) Schrandt and Josh (Lydia) Schrandt were the product of his marriage to Crystal Hilmer. He will be missed by his two granddaughters that he adored and taught to cuss, Peyton and MacKenna. Also left to keep the stories alive (but damn, there won"t be any new material) are his mother Mary Manning and siblings Mike (Rita Dixon) Schrandt, Marty (Clint) Berg, Becky Schrandt-Miles, Bill (Grease) Schrandt, Pam (Rick) Barnes, Peter (Sandra) Schrandt and many nieces, nephews and cousins that wanted to hang out near him, because you just knew he was going to say or do something good. It’s not that he was such a great storyteller, it’s that he WAS the story!

To his siblings amazement he was actually able to snag a good woman, Cheryl Murray, and hold on to her for the past 13 years, and as far as we know restraints were not used. Tim also created great memories and stories for Cheryl’s kids Alex (Christina) Murray and Samantha (Evan) Luedking and grandkids Tatum and Grace.

He will be having a reunion with his infant daughter Ashley, his brother Duke, his dad Bill Schrandt, many aunts and uncles and a handful of cousins that passed before him. Tim was in charge of getting the beer and ice for our family reunions, so they will be happy to see him.


A common line in obituaries is “He never met a stranger”, in Tim’s case he never met a rule he couldn’t break, a boundary he couldn’t push, a line he couldn’t cross and a story he couldn’t stretch. Another common obituary phrase is “He’d give the shirt off his back”, well Tim was prepared to do that, and he could do it quickly, because he always wore his shirts
unbuttoned ¾ the way down. Tim was anything but common!

Despite his crusty exterior, cutting remarks and stubbornness, there is actual evidence that he was a loving, giving and caring person. That evidence is the deep sorrow and pain in our hearts that his family feels from his passing.

Tim led a good life and had a peaceful death - but the transition was a bitch. And for the record, he did not lose his battle with cancer. When he died, the cancer died, so technically it was a tie! He was ready to meet his Maker, we're just not sure "The Maker" is ready to meet Tim.

Good luck God!

We are considering establishing a Go-Fund-Me account for G. Heileman Brewing Co., the brewers of Old Style beer, as we anticipate they are about to experience significant hardship as a result of the loss of Tim"s business. Keep them in your thoughts.
 
There was a sequel to that song about a Louisiana doll that came into town asking about John.
They told about his heroic death and she walked to the mine and then down into it.
A while later they both came out and all he said was...
"Never underestimate the power of a good woman."
 
Thanks Weedy! I was not aware that there was a third one.
 
In case you do not know the story, AJ Freund's parents reported him missing, but within a matter of time, it was discovered that AJ had been killed and buried in a shallow grave by his parents. They have both been arrested.

https://www.davenportfamily.com/not...mB-6ODRpdBaAhg6vY3GtU2xpKqJdNaGvyzeuXJjAO2hNo

Andrew "AJ" Freund
OCTOBER 14, 2013 ~ APRIL 15, 2019 (AGE 5)

Born October 14, 2013, Andrew “AJ” Freund had a smile that could light up a room—and a personality to match. He was a loving, affectionate and outgoing little boy, a virtual ray of sunshine to all who knew him, with a giggle and laugh that was uniquely his. AJ, now an angel to all of us, will be forever remembered in the hearts of everyone he touched—friends, family and people near and far throughout our community.

AJ took very seriously his role as a brother to both of his siblings. You could often find him hugging and wrestling with his younger brother, watching over him always. Like many boys their age, the pair loved to play outside and indoors, you would find him drawing, reading books or putting puzzles together. Of course, a photo always had to be taken to document his latest puzzle achievement! AJ would sit and play Legos for hours and was an extremely smart and friendly boy who could not wait to start kindergarten in the fall and make new friends.

To honor AJ, a public visitation will be Friday, May 3, from 1p.m. until 8 p.m. at Davenport Family Funeral Home and Crematory, 419 E. Terra Cotta Ave. (Rte. 176), Crystal Lake.

To give a memorial in AJ’s name see the link below. If you have further questions, you are welcome to call the funeral home at 815-459-3411.

AJ’s family and friends would like to the thank the people of Crystal Lake and surrounding communities for their overwhelming generosity, prayers and outpouring of love and support. As untimely and tragic as his young death is, may AJ’s passing bring more awareness to all of us, and hope to and for children everywhere.
Donations may be made to:
AJ Freund
Crystal Lake IL 60014
Web: https://www.gofundme.com/d62g4d-rest-in-peace-aj
 
https://www.legacy.com/obituaries/h...ry.aspx?n=joe-heller&pid=193855516&fhid=24219

Joe Heller made his last undignified and largely irreverent gesture on September 8, 2019, signing off on a life, in his words, "generally well-lived and with few regrets." When the doctors confronted his daughters with the news last week that "your father is a very sick man," in unison they replied, "you have no idea." God thankfully broke the mold after Joe was born to the late Joseph Heller, Sr. and Ruth Marion (Clock) on January 24, 1937 in New Haven, CT. Being born during the depression shaped Joe's formative years and resulted in a lifetime of frugality, hoarding and cheap mischief, often at the expense of others. Being the eldest was a dubious task but he was up for the challenge and led and tortured his siblings through a childhood of obnoxious pranks, with his brother, Bob, generally serving as his wingman. Pat, Dick and Kathy were often on the receiving end of such lessons as "Ding Dong, Dogsh*t" and thwarting lunch thieves with laxative-laced chocolate cake and excrement meatloaf sandwiches. His mother was not immune to his pranks as he named his first dog, "Fart," so she would have to scream his name to come home if he wandered off. Joe started his long and illustrious career as a Library Assistant at Yale Law School Library alongside his father before hatching a plan with his lifelong buddies, Ronny Kaiser and Johnny Olson, to join the Navy and see the world together. Their plot was thwarted and the three were split up when Joe pulled the "long straw" and was assigned to a coveted base in Bermuda where he joined the "Seabees," Construction Battalion, and was appointed to the position of Construction Electrician's Mate 3rd class. His service to the country and community didn't end after his honorable discharge. Joe was a Town Constable, Volunteer Fireman and Ambulance Association member, Cross walk guard, Public Works Snow Plower and a proud member of the Antique Veterans organization. Joe was a self-taught chemist and worked at Cheeseborough-Ponds where he developed one of their first cosmetics' lines. There he met the love of his life, Irene, who was hoodwinked into thinking he was a charming individual with decorum. Boy, was she ever wrong. Joe embarrassed her daily with his mouth and choice of clothing. To this day we do not understand how he convinced our mother, an exceedingly proper woman and a pillar in her church, to sew and create the colorful costumes and props which he used for his antics. Growing up in Joe's household was never dull. If the old adage of "You only pull the hair of those you love" holds true, his three daughters were well loved. Joe was a frequent customer of the girls' beauty shops, allowing them to "do" his hair and apply make-up liberally. He lovingly assembled doll furniture and built them a play kitchen and forts in the back yard. During their formative years, Joe made sure that their moral fibers were enriched by both Archie Bunker and Benny Hill. When they began dating, Joe would greet their dates by first running their license plates and checking for bald tires. If their vehicle passed inspection, they were invited into the house where shotguns, harpoons and sheep "nutters" were left clearly on display. After retiring from running Bombaci Fuel, he was perhaps, most well-known for his role as the Essex Town "Dawg Kecher." He refused to put any of his "prisoners" down and would look for the perfect homes for them. One of them was a repeat offender who he named "A**hole" because no owner would ever keep him for very long because he was, in fact, an a**hole. My Dad would take his buddy on daily rides in his van and they'd roam around town with the breeze blowing through both of their fur. He never met a dog he didn't like, the same could not be said for the wanna-be blue bloods, snoots and summer barnacles that roamed about town. His words, not ours. Well maybe not exactly his words as those would been much more colorful. Joe was a frequent shopper at the Essex Dump and he left his family with a house full of crap, 300 pounds of birdseed and dead houseplants that they have no idea what to do with. If there was ever a treasure that he snatched out from under you among the mounds of junk, please wait the appropriate amount of time to contact the family to claim your loot. We're available tomorrow. Joe was also a consummate napper. There wasn't a road, restaurant or friend's house in Essex that he didn't fall asleep on or in. There wasn't an occasion too formal or an event too dour that Joe didn't interrupt with his apnea and voluminous snoring. Besides his beloved wife, Irene, and brother, Bobby, Joe was pre-deceased by his pet fish, Jack, who we found in the freezer last week. Left to squabble over his vast fortune, real estate holdings and "treasures" are his three daughters Michelle Heller (Andrew Bennett) of Newton, MA, Lisette Heller (Lenny Estelle) of Ivoryton, CT and Monique Heller (John Parnoff) of Old Lyme, CT. He relished his role as Papa and Grampa Joe to Zachary, Maxwell and Emily Bennett, Megan, Mackenzie and Ryan Korcak, and Giovanna and Mattea Parnoff and hopes that he taught at least one of them to cuss properly. Left with decades of fond and colorful memories are his siblings Pat Bedard of Madison, Richard (Pat) Heller of Oxford, and Kathy Heller of Killingworth, sisters-in-law, Kathy McGowan of Niantic and Diane Breslin of Killingworth, and 14 nieces and nephews. No flowers, please. The family is seeking donations to offset the expense of publishing an exceedingly long obituary which would have really pissed Joe off. Seriously, what would have made him the happiest is for you to go have a cup of coffee with a friend and bullsh*t about his antics or play a harmless prank on some unsuspecting sap. If we still haven't dissuaded you and you feel compelled to waste your hard-earned money to honor his memory, donations may be sent to: Seabee Memorial Scholarship Association, PO Box 667, Gulfport, MS 39502. A celebration of his life, with Joe laid out in all his glory, will be held on Thursday, September 12, at the Essex Fire Department, 11 Saybrook Road, from 4-7. A light dinner will be served as Joe felt no get-together was complete without food. None of his leftovers or kitchen concoctions will be pawned off on any unsuspecting guests. Feel free to be as late as you'd like as Joe was never on time for anything because of the aforementioned napping habits. Joe despised formality and stuffiness and would really be ticked off if you showed up in a suit. Dress comfortably. The family encourages you to don the most inappropriate T-Shirt that you are comfortable being seen in public with as Joe often did. Everybody has a Joe story and we'd love to hear them all. Joe faced his death and his mortality, as he did with his life, face on, often telling us that when he dropped dead to dig a hole in the back yard and just roll him in. Much to his disappointment, he will be properly interred with full military honors (and maybe Jack) next to his wife on Friday, September 13, at 10:00 am in Centerbrook Cemetery. The family is forever in debt to his neighbor, Barry Peterson, for all of his help in recent years. We couldn't have done it without you. Sorry, Mom, Lisette and I did the best we could to take care of him and keep him out of your hair as long as we could. Back in your court now. To share a memory of Joe or send a condolence to his family please visit www.rwwfh.com Arrangements by the Robinson, Wright & Weymer Funeral Home in Centerbrook.

Published in The Hartford Courant on Sept. 10, 2019
 
There he met the love of his life, Irene, who was hoodwinked into thinking he was a charming individual with decorum. Boy, was she ever wrong. Joe embarrassed her daily with his mouth and choice of clothing.

:D
 
https://www.chattanoogan.com/2019/1...AQbx4wv-R_drEqVHNZj-DUs#.Xg-0W5aATR5.facebook

McDonald, Katy Lynn
Served In A Variety Of Civic Capacities
Friday, December 20, 2019

Katy McDonald
Katy Lynn McDonald escaped this mortal realm on December 14, 2019. She was 80, we think. The family believes she did it on purpose to avoid having to cast another vote in the American elections.


Katy was world-renowned (#itsasmallworldafterall) for her generosity and kind disposition. She never met a stranger but she brought a few home (David W., you were our favorite). Mom offered a charm, wit, and undying love to those who were her friends. She was simply an amazing gal, part saint part sinner all bundled up into one marvelous package. If you were fortunate to have met her, you’d have liked her immediately… she was just that kind of person.


She was a studied cook of the old Southern school. Her chicken and dumplin’ recipe was, as Tina would say, simply the best—a remarkable meal. Her recipes were used to feed thousands of patients when she worked as a dietary professional at Red Bank Hospital. Her cornbread was a favorite among patients and employees of the hospital—the recipe is untouchable… seriously, we can’t find it. If anyone has a copy, please let the family know.


Katy served in a variety of civic capacities: A Cub Scout den mother, a Boy Scout parent, a Brownie and Girl Scout mom, a baseball mom and volunteer (she managed the concessions and we got free candy), on the PTA (remember those?), and in various capacities at the Northside Presbyterian Church. And, most importantly, she loved gardening and growing stuff. She also did a whole lot of other things for us when we were kids, but we were too busy to make notes (sorry Mom). However, we do sincerely appreciate her selfless sacrifices and various lessons of life, like how to use a napkin; to not eat soup with a fork; to say “please” and “thank you”; to call each-and-every-one of her and dad’s friends “Mr. and Mrs.”; and lots more.


She was preceded in death by the father of her four children, Charles Alan McDonald, whom she loved to her dying day, and her beloved family pets, Simon the Siamese cat; Peanut the wiener dog; Sugar the howling dog; Daisy the very-special-extremely-important stray dog; and most notably, Jack her darling mutt who once lost his tail in an unfortunate accident, whereupon Mom saved the tail in the freezer “…just in case…” (go figure).


She leaves behind her sons, Charles Alan “Chuck” (Jan); David Carl (Diane); Robert Edward (Golf); and her daughter Cynthia Lynn Mendenhall (Jerry). She also scurried out on a bunch of grandchildren, Tiffany McDonald; Cody McDonald; Meghan McDonald; Keely McDonald-Bamrick (John); Scott Mendenhall (Hannah); Anthony Mundis (Sarah); Katy Mendenhall-Ying (John); Kinsley Kilgore; and one great grandson called Mason Michael Mendenhall (Cute child. Thief of hearts.).


She left behind a lot of old stuff that her kids don’t know what to do with. Anyone interested in some nick nacks, a bell, some art books, gardening tools, a couch, or old jewelry. Please wait the appropriate amount of time to reach out. Tomorrow should be fine.


The family will host visitors on Saturday, Dec. 21, from noon to 2 p.m. at St. Jude Catholic Church on Ashland Terrace. A Catholic Mass will follow at 2 p.m., after which the family will gather with friends to share stories and toast a life well lived.


Finally, the family asks that in lieu of flowers, please write your congressman and ask for the repeal of Day Light Savings Time. We think Mom would like it if we were all on the Lord’s Time.


Mowell Funeral Home & Cremation Service, Peachtree City – www.mowells.com
 

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