Eulogy

Eulogy and Obituary for Tim Barnhouse

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Eulogy for Thomas “Tim” E. Barnhouse

September 20, 2019

by Pastor John Partridge

 

I met with Tim’s family yesterday afternoon and, as I often do, I let them tell me stories.  And for an hour or more, the stories, much like the stories that Tim often told, just kept coming.  I’m not sure that I have time to share all their stories with you today, but I’m sure that all of you will be sharing stories of your own over dinner later.  And some of us will be telling, and retelling, stories about Tim for years to come.  But as I was thinking about all that had been said, and after I returned to my office and started looking over my notes, there was one thing that I noticed above everything else.  Usually, when I talk to families and prepare to write a eulogy like this one, what I end up with is a story about that person’s life, when they were born, where they went to school, where they lived, and a few stories that give us snapshots of who they were and what they represented to their families.

 

But Tim’s stories are almost all the same.

 

Almost every one of the stories that I heard yesterday, including the ones that I told, boil down to one consistent theme.  Tim genuinely cared about people.  He was regularly asking the people around him, “Are you alright?”  And he continued asking, even after it was obvious that he wasn’t okay.  The way that his family explained it was that Tim was passionate, and almost obsessive, about making sure that things (meaning the people he cared about, and that was almost everyone) were okay.  It started as soon as you met him.  Tim didn’t just say hello, he had to touch you and make a tangible and personal connection with you, when he said hello.  If you were at all familiar, his “hello” probably also came with a hug, and if you were family, you almost certainly got a kiss too.  With Tim, there were no strangers.  You started off as a friend, and quickly became family.  The way that Tim’s priorities were explained to me yesterday is that Tim always put family first.  After that, there were his friends, then Mount Union, and after that came everything else.  After he lost Doris, he began to refer to all of his female neighbors and friends as his “girlfriends.”  Maybe it was for the humor that he found in saying it, and maybe it was an effort to tell his family that he was doing okay and wasn’t as lonely as they feared he might be.

 

But he was a little lonely.  Tim always missed his mom and he missed Doris enormously.  Adjusting to being single again was hard.  Recently, at church, several folks noticed that Tim was even more isolated and lonely after we lost his friends Elvin and Jack Madison in the span of barely more than two months.  But Tim would never say anything about his own pain.  He did, however, confess that he was happier in Florida than he was here, and everyone knew that it was because he was constantly surrounded by his family while he was there.

 

And the word ‘family’ is a little difficult to define for Tim.  For most of us it’s our parents or our kids, but Tim’s family was, and is, bigger than that.  You all know that Tim was open-hearted and generous and was always there whenever anyone needed anything, but what you might not know is how that generosity, and his sense of what it meant to be a family, played out in his personal life.  Long ago, Tim’s brother took off, just disappeared, and left a wife and several small children behind.  So, Tim, being who he was, just took over as the father figure to his nieces and nephews and functionally became their “Dad” along with his own two girls.  For the younger ones, Tim was the only father that they ever knew.  And there were others that got adopted into Tim’s family circle along the way as well.  For all of these children, nieces, nephews, as well as their children, I’m just going to call them grandkids, all of them, rather than try to explain it all each time, for all of these grandkids, Tim showed up.  He was there for all the basketball games, football games, cheerleader competitions, band concerts, birthdays, and everything else.  If the kids were in it, Tim was there.  And Tim was there so often, that other parents knew who he was, even if they didn’t know his name because he was the guy that was always there.

 

That was sort of a hallmark of the Tim Barnhouse that we all knew.  He was there.  He was there for his family, he was there for his church, he was there for his school, he was there for his community, he was there for everyone.  If Tim saw someone in need, he was there.  If Tim saw something that needed done, he did it.  And no matter what else he was doing, he always had time for you (unless the timer on his dryer ‘dinged’ and then that had to be done before anything else).  Tim liked to talk…, but you probably knew that.  Tim would sit and talk forever.  Many of his stories would begin with “Well…” and then he would tell you the history of all the characters in the story, and all the places in the story, and then he’d finally get around to telling you the story.  He was the kind of a guy that could take an hour to tell a ten-minute story.

 

From the people who knew them both, I heard that Tim had his mother’s heart.  He was always loving, always non-judgmental, and he even adopted his mother’s habit of sending cards to everyone that he knew for birthday’s, anniversaries, and for other significant events.  It was so important to Tim that these cards went out, that in the last couple of weeks, when he wasn’t physically able to do it, he asked others to go out, and buy cards for some of his family that had birthdays coming up, and, although his hands were shaky, he signed them himself, and made sure that there was money inside, so that there would be card to open when those birthday’s arrived.

 

There are so many more things that just made Tim, Tim.  If Tim rode in the car with you, you were free to listen to whatever music you wanted to, but if you rode in the car with Tim, the only things that you would ever hear on the radio were the Indians game, or the news.  Tim wanted, needed, to focus on what he was doing when he was behind the wheel.  He was anxious about getting to where he was going.  Even when he wasn’t driving, he not only wanted to know where you were going, but how you planned on getting there.  Tim always wanted lots of information.  Tim was the guy, no matter where he was, that if the National Anthem was played…, he sang along…, at the top of his lungs…, even if no one else was singing.  He asked everyone if they had checked Consumer Reports, no matter whether the planned purchase was large or small.  He was a guy who loved his Mount Union Raiders but if he couldn’t be in town to see them play, he made sure to give his tickets to someone who could.  Tim was the man who visited everyone that he knew who was in a nursing home.  He was the guy who regularly paid for the altar flowers at church, even when he couldn’t be here to see them.  And whenever he paid for those flowers, he would take them to someone who was in a nursing home or in the hospital, and if he wasn’t here, he left instructions for one of us to take them to someone for him.

 

Tim was a big hugger, and he was a rule follower to the point of occasionally annoying the daylights out of his family, if there was a sign at the side of the road, he insisted that it be followed.  Except speed limits, which Tim often reminded his kids were, “The maximum speed that you can travel, but not the required speed.”  Tim always drove at, or below, the posted speed limit.  The only time that Susan thinks that he didn’t, was the day that she got her drivers’ license and totaled the car while she and Doris were going somewhere.  And, as often and Susan and Tim were at loggerheads with one another, she sat there, at the hospital, fully expecting to be ripped up one side and down the other, as well as hearing story after story about how expensive cars were and how their insurance rates would go up.  But none of that ever happened.  There was never an argument, never a single discussion, and not one mention, ever, of how much it cost.  Tim knew what was really important, and the car, and the money, weren’t it.

 

Tim was the guy who would go to Urgent Care for the sniffles or a sore throat because he wanted to be sure that he wouldn’t miss one of his grandkids’ events and so we know that his health had to be a concern.  Toward the end, it became apparent that although Tim worried about his health, he never shared his worry with anyone else because he didn’t want us to worry.  But, at some point, as he shared with his family, he knew that he wasn’t going to recover and it was at that point that he shared with one of the grandkids that, “The next few months are going to be hard.”

 

In his last days, Tim’s family was engulfed in an overwhelming outpouring of support because of all the lives, from Alliance, to Columbus, to Zanesville, to Florida, that had been touched by Tim Barnhouse.  And at the end, for the man who had lived by the rules, and who always drove at or under the speed limit, and who insisted in always being on time, died exactly on the hour at ten o’clock.  No matter what, no matter how much he was worrying, or suffering, Tim’s ever-present sense of humor endured all the way to the end.  Even at the very end, after everyone thought that Tim was no longer even conscious, as the family talked about Tim’s mom, and her wonderful chocolate chip cookies, cookies that were always available no matter when you visited, suddenly Tim began to struggle, he roused himself and seemed to be in considerable pain, but he did so just so that he could say three important words.  These were simultaneously words of remembrance, words of looking forward, and a reflection of his sense of humor, as Tim struggled with all the strength that he had left to say… “Chocolate chip cookies.”

 

Today, we know that Tim is finally healed.  He is finally at rest.  He has finally rejoined his mom, and God has restored to him a Doris that remembers who he is.  While we grieve, we remember that Tim has finally stopped worrying because the world in which Jesus has invited him, is, at last, perfect.

 

So, you see, in the end, the thing that was consistent and obvious to everyone, was that Tim Barnhouse… cared.  He sent cards because he cared, he visited because he cared, he got involved, he went to games and birthday parties, he told stories, he touched, he hugged, he talked, he was there, he loved… because he cared.  And as I wrote this story about Tim’s life, I was reminded of the words of Jesus from John 14:12.  Jesus said, “Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.”  Earlier, I mentioned that one of the family said that Tim had his mother’s heart, but I also think, that in a lot of ways, Tim was who he was… because Tim also had the heart of Jesus.  And I have no doubt, that also has much to do with why Tim Barnhouse will be remembered as a man… who cared.

 

 

Obituary for Tim Barnhouse

 

Tim BarnhouseThomas “Tim” E. Barnhouse, age 79, of Alliance, passed away at 10:10 p.m., Thursday, September 12, 2019 with his family by his side.

He was born April 24, 1940 in Alliance, Ohio to Elmer E. and Helen E. (Hurford) Barnhouse.

Tim was a 1958 graduate of Alliance High School and a graduate of Mount Union College with a Bachelor’s Degree in math. He was employed by the former Cunningham and Pickett for ten years and The Hoover Company in finance for 35 years before retiring in 2002.

He was a member of Christ United Methodist Church for more than fifty years, serving as chairman on various committees. Tim was a former member of the Board of Directors of the former Family Services of Stark County, served on the Alumni Council of the University of Mount Union, and was formerly treasurer of the Sheep and Swine Committee for the Stark County 4H Club.

Survivors include two daughters; Susan E. Barnhouse and Katharine A. (Lawrence II) Pack both of Etna, Ohio; four grandchildren, Benjamin, Rebecca, Lydia and Samantha; many nieces and nephews; many grand-nieces and grand-nephews; as well as the many close friends who along the way became family members.

He was preceded in death by his parents, his wife, Doris J. Barnhouse whom he married November 5, 1966 and died April 13, 2016; and brother, David Barnhouse.

Services will be held at 10 a.m., Friday, September 20, 2019 at Christ United Methodist Church with Pastor John Partridge officiating. Visitation will be held from 4 to 8 p.m., Thursday, September 19 at Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home.

Entombment will be at University of Mount Union Victoria’s Garden Columbarium.

Memorial contributions may be made to the Helen E. Barnhouse Trust at Christ United Methodist Church, 470 East Broadway Alliance, Ohio 44601 or to the University of Mount Union Barnhouse Education Scholarship Fund, 1972 Clark Avenue Alliance, Ohio 44601.

Arrangements are by Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home.

 

Jan Stoll – Eulogy and Obituary

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Eulogy for Janice L. “Jan” Stoll

June 21, 2019

by Pastor John Partridge

 

In 1937, the world was changing.  The Golden Gate Bridge opened for the first time, “Gone With the Wind” won a Pulitzer prize, Cy Young was elected to the baseball hall of fame, War Admiral won the Kentucky Derby, SPAM was introduced to the world, the Hindenburg exploded in Lakehurst, NY, war was ramping up in both the Pacific and in Europe, and the first commercial airline flight travelled across the Pacific.  And just about the time that Amelia Earhart disappeared while attempting to circumnavigate the globe, Janice L. Stoll made her first appearance in Alliance, Ohio.

 

Jan was born on October 25th, 1937 to Lee and Roberta Freytag.  By the time she graduated from Alliance High School, she was steady with her high school sweetheart Bill Stoll and the two of them were married on March 9th, 1957.  Jan stayed home and kept the home fires burning while Bill spent some time in the Navy, but afterwards they raised Tammy together.

 

Jan was a regular at Eastern Star, but she could almost always be found at Christ United Methodist Church and she and Bill made sure that Tammy was there too.  Almost every year the family would take some time off, spend time together, and make a trip out to Garden Grove, California to visit Bill’s mother.

 

In 1993 Tammy moved to Texas and not wanting to be so far away from their grandson, two years later, Jan and Bill did too.  Tammy and Jan had a difficult relationship at times, but Mitchell was always the apple of Jan’s eye.  She was his biggest supporter and his constant cheerleader.  She was there at just about every sporting event or school program that he was ever in and she loved to take Mitchell to play mini golf.  When they played, Jan always let Mitchell win… until she didn’t.

 

One day, when Mitchell was approaching adulthood, she stopped holding back and skunked him handily.  He didn’t take it well and threw his putter into the water.  But Jan just gently talked him down, explained to him the value of patience, and told him that even though winning is great, everyone should know how to lose well.  These are lessons and memories that remain fresh for Mitchell and will stay with him for the rest of his life.  Mitchell remembers that Jan loved to cook, and that she had a jukebox in her home will with old classics.  She regularly played Elvis songs and taught Mitchell to sing Blueberry Hill with Fats Domino playing on the jukebox.  The two of them often bonded discussing the latest news about the Cleveland Cavaliers.  Mitchell said that while Jan may not have approved of every decision that he made, she never judged him and was always there to give him good advice.  It seems to me, that Jan knew that she had made some mistakes while she was raising Tammy, learned from them, and tried to do better with her relationship with Mitchell.

 

The family lost Bill in 2008 and, in 2011, Tammy decided to move to Florida.  At first, Jan thought that she would follow Tammy as soon as she could sell her house.  But it took a while.  And when the day came that her house finally sold, Jan called Tammy and announced that instead of moving to Florida, she was going to move back home to Ohio… and she did.  Maybe starting over, again, in a new place, had lost its appeal, but whatever the reason, Jan came home to her hometown, to the things that were familiar, to the place where she still had friends, and eventually to her Lakeshore apartment at Copeland Oaks.

 

I think Tammy put her finger on one of the themes of Jan Stoll’s life when she said that Jan always tried to do her best.  Ultimately, that’s immensely important.  Jan knew that life isn’t perfect, that we don’t always make the right choices, that everything doesn’t always go well, and that our relationships aren’t always what we wished they could be.  But in the end, no matter how life twists and turns, we all need to be a little bit like Jan.  Don’t give up.  Just keep swimming, just keep pushing, just keep going, and just…

 

…do the best you can.

 

Footprints

One night I dreamed a dream.
As I was walking along the beach with my Lord.
Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.
For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand,
One belonging to me and one to my Lord.

After the last scene of my life flashed before me,
I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
I noticed that at many times along the path of my life,
especially at the very lowest and saddest times,
there was only one set of footprints.

This really troubled me, so I asked the Lord about it.
“Lord, you said once I decided to follow you,
You’d walk with me all the way.
But I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life,
there was only one set of footprints.
I don’t understand why, when I needed You the most, You would leave me.”

He whispered, “My precious child, I love you and will never leave you
Never, ever, during your trials and testings.
When you saw only one set of footprints,
It was then that I carried you.”

Obituary for Janice L. “Jan” Stoll

Janice-StollJanice L. “Jan” (Freytag) Stoll, 81, of Copeland Oaks, went home to be with the Lord on Tuesday, June 18, 2019 at 12:00 pm at her home in Sebring.
Born on October 25, 1937 in Alliance, to Lee and Roberta Freytag, she lived in Alliance for most of her life.
A graduate of Alliance High School, Janice was a member of Christ United Methodist Church. She was also a member of the Order of the Eastern Star.
Janice enjoyed antiquing, traveling, beachcombing and collecting shells, and she supported several Native American organizations.
Survivors include her daughter, Tammy Smith of Kissimmee, FL; a grandson, Mitchell Lee (Brittany) Smith of Winter Park, FL; two nieces, Linda (Regis) Valentine and Diane (Ray) Shallenberger; three nephews, Robert Sims, Michael (Kathleen) Sims and Christopher (Rebecca) Sims; several great nieces and nephews; great-great nieces and nephews; cousins, Doris Lowers, Bob (Debbie) Graham and Shawn (Marsha) Graham.
Preceding her in death was her husband, William L. Stoll, whom she married on March 9, 1957 and who died on September 3, 2008; an infant daughter, Jody Lynn Stoll; a grandson, Andrew Smith; her parents; a sister, Carol Sims; and a nephew, William Sims.
The family wishes to give heartfelt thanks to Visiting Angels, Hospice of the Valley, Nurse Debbie RN, her aides, Anna and Audrie, social worker, Rebecca; the nursing staff of Copeland Oaks, and Annette and Mindy of Lakeshore Apartments.
The family will receive friends on Friday, June 21, 2019 from 11:00 am – 12:00 pm at Sharer-Stirling-Skivolocke Funeral Home. Her Funeral Service will begin at 12:00 pm with Rev. John Partridge, of Christ United Methodist Church, officiating. Burial will take place at Highland Memorial Park.
Memorial contributions are suggested to Shriners Children’s Hospital www.shrinershospitalsforchildren.org .
You are invited to view Janice’s tribute wall, offer condolences and share memories at www.sharerfuneralhome.com. Arrangements are by the Sharer-Stirling-Skivolocke Funeral Home.

Shirley Carberry – Eulogy and Obituary

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Eulogy for Shirley Carberry

May 16, 2019

by Pastor John Partridge

 

Shirley Carberry was one of those people that, behind the scenes and out of the public eye, made the world go ‘round.  She was one of those people who aren’t out to get the attention and adulation of the world but who saw what needed to be done and just put her head down and got it done.  Shirley was born on May 17th, 1927 to Robert and Muriel Crum.  This being the year that began the Great Depression, it wasn’t an easy time to be born and, in a way, that sort of set the tone for Shirley’s life.  It often wasn’t easy, but every time that life got hard, Shirley just put her head down, and got it done anyway.

Early on, Shirley’s father, without announcement or explanation, just up and left his family.  And so, Shirley, Maxine, and Robert took care of one another and, at the same time, took care of their mom.  Robert went to work early in the morning before school assisting a dairy man in his morning deliveries.  At the end of their morning route, the dairyman would drop Bob off near Mount Union and Shirley would ride her bike there to pick him up and ride them both to school.  At the age of 18, Shirley went to work at the West Ely Street Market and a few years later, when the owner retired, she took it over, eventually bought it, and her husband learned to be a butcher and joined her there.

Shirley married Bob’s best friend Milton, at the age of 22, on September 3rd, 1949 after he had returned to Alliance after the end of his service in World War II.  At the time they were married, Shirley lived with, and cared for, her mom, and upon their marriage, Milton just moved in with the two of them and helped Shirley.  Milton and Shirley lived there together for more than 37 years until Milton died in 1987.  After that, Shirley continued to care for her mother alone.  It was only after her mother’s death, that Shirley finally moved out and got her own place.

But we’ve skipped too far ahead.  Shirley and Milton had 37 years together and during that time they had many adventures.  They worked together at the West Ely Street Market, for a while Shirley worked in the offices of Judge Tangi, they attended church, bowled in a bowling league, played cards (Shirley loved to play cards), volunteered with Boy Scout Troop 50, kept a garden (Shirley was known around town for her beautiful flowers), traveled together, and even took a trip to Europe together.  Shirley kept a scrapbook of their travels in Europe that included something from every place that they had visited.  And they had a cottage at Berlin Lake where there was always a crowd of friends with skiing, and swimming, and card games, fun and laughter.

Shirley was well-known at Christ Church.  She became a member when it was the First Methodist Episcopal Church and stayed as the denomination merged with the Evangelical United Brethren Church to become the United Methodist Church, and she just faithfully kept coming no matter what.  Although she and Milton never had any of their own, Shirley loved children and you could find her volunteering with the Boy Scouts and the Cub Scouts, and with the church youth and anywhere else that she was needed.  Shirley could often be found helping in the kitchen for church dinners.  She came to church every Sunday with her mom, and after her mom passed away, then she came every Sunday with her sister Maxine and with her niece Sheryl and Sheryl’s husband Jeff.

Shirley not only attended regularly, but everyone knew that she just hated to miss church.  Even after she moved to Danbury Senior Living, and could no longer get out, Shirley still loved to hear all the news about Christ Church, it’s people, it’s missionary outreach and ministries, and she always had questions about the latest church news, as well as the happenings around town, about the Alliance High School Alumni, the Boy Scouts and Cub Scouts, and Christ Church’s Cooking for the Soul classes whenever Susan and Dick Diser would come for a visit.  Many years ago, Shirley belonged to the Protheon Sunday school class, and she kept in tough with many of her friends from that time and many of them were the founding group that regularly attended our church’s 8:30 am worship service until it ended a few years ago.

Shirley was known for the things that she loved.  She loved her garden, she loved riding her bicycle, she loved trips to Las Vegas, she loved a cold beer (even if it often took her most of the day to drink one), and she loved raisin pie.  Boy I wish I had known that.  Nobody else in my family (except me) likes raisin pie, if I had known this sooner, I would have used that as an excuse to go and buy some just so I could share it with her.  And Shirley loved to read.  And boy oh boy did she love to read.  If you had visited her, she had her favorite chair set up with her lamp and bookcases and piles of books and magazines surrounding her so that she could reach everything and just stay there for hours.  And right up until the end, Shirley subscribed to our church newsletter and our weekly Sunday sermons, and she read everything that we sent her.

Shirley spent much of her time helping others and contributing to her family, her church, and her community in any way that she could.  She was the secretary of the North End reunion for 25 years, a life member of the VFW Ladies Auxiliary, and active in many things as church.  She collected antique clocks, cuckoo clocks, hurricane lamps, most any kind of money that was dated prior to 1918, and, as her brother described it, “anything old.”  In her later years, Shirley became interested in the stock market.  Not surprisingly, she read books about it, she studied it, and then she tried her had at it and, as I understand it, she got pretty good at it.

But Shirley didn’t do things for the money.  Although she kept enough for herself to be comfortable, Shirley was just never motivated by money.  She was always generous with what she had no matter how much, or how little, she had herself.  She was a giving person who was known for her generosity.  When her sister Maxine passed away and left Shirley a fair amount of money from her IRA, Shirley simply said that she didn’t need any more than what she already had, so she gave it all away to worthy causes.  Even now, with her passing, Shirley is blessing her church and several other charitable organizations with what she had.

Shirley was not only a sister to her siblings but the three of them were close, if not the closest of friends.  She was known as a woman who was always willing to share her opinion, on any subject, but she was also known for her gentle spirit, her unselfish attitude, and a good, even wonderful, woman.  It has been said that everyone who knew Shirley, liked her.

And so, before we conclude, I want you to hear some of the adjectives that seemed to repeat themselves in this eulogy, and in all the conversations that I’ve had with people about Shirley Carberry.  They were words like, gentle, persistent, reliable, undemanding, faithful, unselfish, helpful, generous, and giving.  Shirley was not the kind of person that tried to be the center of attention, but she was always there, in the background in the office, or in the kitchen, doing the things that needed to be done.  Her life wasn’t always easy, and maybe that’s why she spent so much of her time trying to make the lives of others easier.  She spent her life trying to help people and, in the process, she made our community, and the world, a better place to live.

Not only do we all owe Shirley Carberry a debt, we need more people like her.

My prayer is that those of us who knew Shirley Carberry would learn from her example and become the kind of giving, faithful, and loving person that she was so that we too can make the world a better place.

 

 

 

Obituary for Shirley Carberry

Shirley Carberry

Shirley A. Carberry, age 91, of Alliance, passed away at 3:20 a.m., Saturday, May 11, 2019 at Danbury Senior Living of Alliance.

She was born May 17, 1927 in Alliance, Ohio to Robert L. and Muriel (Elder) Crum.

Shirley was a 1945 graduate of Alliance High School in the class of 1945 and was co-owner of the former West Ely Market and had worked in Judge Tangi’s office for five years.

A 70 plus year member of Christ United Methodist Church, Shirley was a member of the Protheon Sunday school class and also a life member of the VFW Ladies Auxiliary No. 1076.

Survivors include brother, Robert G. Crum, of Alliance: and two nieces, Sheryl (Jeff) Lain of Alliance and Carol Tallman of Boardman.

Preceding her in death were her parents: husband, Milton Carberry whom she married September 3, 1949; sister, Maxine Lastivka and a niece, Joni Mastriacovo.

Services will be held at 2 p.m., Thursday, May 17, 2019 at Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home with Pastor John Partridge officiating. Friends may call one hour prior to the service. Interment will be at Highland Memorial Park.

Memorial contributions may be made to Christ United Methodist Church 470 E. Broadway Ave., Alliance, OH 44601.

Arrangements are by Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home 75 S. Union Ave., Alliance, OH 44601.

Madelon J. Andrews – Eulogy and Obituary

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Eulogy for Madelon J. Andrews

May 13, 2019

A Memory shared by Mary Neese

 

When I first met Madelon, I had a feeling that we were going to be good friends.  We talked a lot about our families and other things.  Then the 10-cent sale came along.  When we first started, I worked in the gym and I think she did too.  We would kid each other about different things, then one year, Denise asked me if I would work the boutique, and I was so glad when Madelon decided to work with me.  It was a lot of work, but we had fun doing it.  The last time we worked it, we were both so tired at the end that we both said that we were getting too old for the job, so we retired, but I wouldn’t change my time that we had together for anything.  During the time we had together, we learned a lot about each other.  She was a special person in my life, and I am glad that we had all that time together.

 

 

A Life “Full”

by Pastor John Partridge

 

I was told quite clearly that this time of remembrance is not a time of mourning but is intended to be a celebration of the life that was Madelon J. Andrews.  She was our friend, coworker, family member, grandmother, and mother and it is without dispute or doubt that her life has deeply enriched all of ours and, in fact, for many of us who are gathered here, much of who we are is because of what Madelon was and what she taught us.

I want to confess, up front, the majority of the words that I have prepared for today are not my own.  Steve has coordinated and collected stories from Madelon’s family as well as from some of her church friends and that is what most what you are about to hear.  All that I have done is to put in a “file tabs” to classify them into a handful of ideas.  Madelon’s was a life that was “full” in  many ways.

First, Madelon was help-“full.”   Her life was all about helping others.  Sandy Watkins remembered that you could always count on Madelon.  If she told you that she would do something, then you absolutely knew that she would do it.  But not only was Madelon helpful, she was also faith-“full.”  Madelon was always volunteering.  When Park Church first launched the Free Store, Madelon was one of the very first volunteers, and every Thursday she was, faithfully, at work at the Good Neighbors community food bank in Goodyear Heights.

Madelon was all about helping others.  Whether she was at the Free Store sorting clothes, or greeting people as they registered at Good Neighbors, Madelon was always in the middle of things.  She spent one day each week at the Lawndale Elementary School helping in the Kindergarten class.  She would help out doing whatever was needed, but most likely would be found reading to the kids.  She was affectionately known as Gramma Madelon.  And with that ongoing relationship with the teachers, she became a liaison to Park Church, where a yearly collection of school supplies for the kids was developed, as well as having a luncheon for the teachers before the start of each new school year.  And, of course, she was also a part of the 10-cent sale at Park Church for many years.  She would be here, sorting clothes with Mary Neese, Johanna Henline, Nancy Reichman, and others.  On occasion, Madelon would find a, um, “unique” outfit and model it for everyone.  I’m told that there are pictures, but discretion forbids us from showing them to you at this time.

Pastor Linda Somerville remembers that it was Madelon, Johanna, and Mary who were always trying to find the flashiest, cheapest, tackiest, jewelry and show it off at Bible Study.  And of course, one of the advantages of sorting things for the ten-cent sale was the opportunity to “pre-shop” the donated items.  When Pastor Linda had knee surgery and couldn’t make it to the ten-cent sale one year, it was Madelon who found the tackiest items in the entire room that year, put them in the biggest pill case that you’ve ever seen, and “gifted” them to the pastor, during Sunday worship, in front of everyone.  The funny thing is, Pastor Linda is still using that pill case.  Pastor Linda also remembers what she refers to as “that spunky nature of hers” that sometimes displayed itself as an incredible courage in the face of really unpleasant things.  But, despite her courage, spunkiness, and determination, Linda also noticed the softness that Madelon displayed whenever she was with Matthew and TJ.

In the last year, despite her own problems, Madelon was helping her across-the-street-neighbor, Carol.  Carol has had trouble with her vision, and so whenever Carol needed to go shopping, or pick up a prescription, Madelon would pick her up and take here where she needed to go… but that usually meant that they would also have to stop off at Wink’s in Barberton to get a hamburger while they were out.

But Madelon’s life wasn’t just about being “faithful” and “helpful” but it was also simply “full” of love.  Madelon was all about family.  Family gatherings, family celebrations, family vacations, and supporting her family in all of their activities whether they were band shows, concerts, award ceremonies, dance recitals, basketball, soccer, or baseball games.  Our family, even though we were sort of extended in-laws, benefitted from Madelon’s sense of family too.  Each year it was as if our kids had an extra set of grandparents because they could expect some kind of Christmas present whenever we met for the annual Thanksgiving feast.  Patti and I, as well as my mom, my brother Dean, and pretty much anybody who showed up, always went home with a big box of mixed nuts or something as well.

The story of their family vacations has some history to it that is worth retelling. In the early years, Susie’s family would go on vacation and pull a tent camper.  But as the family began to grow, and as siblings got married, camping turned into large family vacations at the beach.  First there was Ocean City, then Assateague Island with the wild horses roaming around, then Bethany Beach where it rained so hard that the family all has memories of walking together in the flooded streets.  And then, finally, for many years it was Top Sail Island.  And, as we remember family vacations, I am supposed to mention to the Madelon’s family these three words: Red. Hot. Dogs.  I don’t know what that means.  You’ll have to ask if one of them will tell you about it.

As a sidebar to Madelon’s vacation stories, it was obvious that Madelon never met a stranger.  When the family started taking trips to Top Sail Island, they would have to make a couple of stops along the way.  And they lost count of the times that they came out of the bathrooms to find Madelon talking to the occupants of the car next to them.  She would ask them where they were going, what they were going to do there, and on and on.  It only took a moment for Madelon to notice a license plate or someone walking their dog, or simply asking, “where are you going?” and she was off making new friends and having a great conversation with someone who, just a moment ago had been a total stranger.

Madelon loved her grandchildren, and she loved it whenever they could cove to visit her.  Whether it was just an overnighter, or for a week, it was a special time.  Going to the Akron Zoo was always a must, arts and crafts were usually a part of their time together and, on occasion, a cooking class or two.  At some point, Madelon had taken some painting classes that had been offered by a former Park Church pianist and so, when the kids came to visit, Madelon would practice her newfound techniques with them.  Sometimes those visits included a night or two out at the Acres in the trailer, and with each of the kids there was something special.  With each one it was different.  There were always special breakfasts and suppers, for Matt, TJ, and Stacey, it was spaghetti and meatballs, and with Madelon, Cameron, and Patrick, it was Galuch’s Pizza.

Madelon’s love of her family was obvious to everyone of us who had eyes.  Sandy remembers that Madelon only had praise and love for her family and was always proud of all of them.  If Madelon didn’t show up at Bible Study, everyone knew that she was probably enjoying some time with her grandchildren.  Whenever Susie would go to Jamaica on another mission trip, Madelon would be anxious, and worry, and ask her friends for special prayer.  And it was just as obvious that Madelon never stopped missing Roger because he never hesitated to tell her friends how life without him would never be the same.

But with that, we’ve circled back to “faithful.”  In the last couple of months, Madelon longed to be home with her Jesus.  However, before she left, she made out a short, and somewhat unusual, bucket list.  Rather than list a bunch of things that she wanted to do, Madelon made out a list of foods that she wanted to eat before she met Jesus face to face.  I don’t have the whole list, but there were angel wings, taco salad, chili, cherry pie, coleslaw from Whitehouse, a bear claw, and an apricot and cheese Danish.

Madelon had a strong faith.  In the midst of fighting cancer for the last year, she worked through it, and she always knew that God was in control.  She longed to go home to be with Jesus, and to see Roger again, as well as other old friends.  In the last couple of weeks, Madelon would comment to Susie, “I’m so tired, I’m so tired.”  There was one day, after Susie had moved into the house to care for her, that Susie looked in on Madelon to check on her and to see how she was sleeping or to watch her breathe, and as she did, Madelon rolled over, looked at Susie, and said, “I’m not dead yet?”  To which Susie answered, “No, Mom, you’re not dead yet.”  This was, again, another indication of Madelon’s faith and her desire to go home to glory.

It was Madelon’s prayer, and it remains the prayer of her family, that all of us could have the same kind of confidence in our eternal destination that Madelon did.  Knowing Jesus, and accepting his invitation to follow him, and to be adopted into his family, can result in exactly that kind of confidence that we will also meet Jesus face to face and share stores of weird outfits, of cheap jewelry, of family, of faith, and of love.  If you don’t have that kind of confidence, and you’d like to find out how to have it, Madelon wouldn’t want you to leave here today without asking Steve, or Susie, or one of us pastors about how you can have it too.

Madelon Andrews lived a life that was full.  She was helpful, faithful, courageous, dependable, committed, and full of love for her family, and for everyone around her.  Madelon’s entire life was a life that was, in every way…

…full.

And in her fullness, Madelon Andrews has poured out love, hope, grace, determination, courage, faithfulness, love and many other things into all of us, and into the lives of all the people around her.

May we, through her example, do half as well.

 

To Those I Love and Those Who Love Me

A poem found among Madelon’s personal notes to her family

When I am gone, release me, let me go.

I have so many things to see and do,

You mustn’t tie yourself to me with tears.

Be thankful for our beautiful years.

I gave you my love,

You can only guess,

How much you gave to me in happiness.

I thank you for the love you each have shown,

But now it’s time I traveled on alone.

So, grieve awhile if grieve you must,

Then let your grief be comforted by trust.

It’s only for a time that we must part,

So bless the memories within your heart.

I won’t be far away, for life goes on,

So if you need me, call and I will come.

Though you can’t see me or touch me, I’ll be near,

And if you listen with your heart, you’ll hear,

All my love around you soft and clear.

And then, when you must come this way alone,

I’ll greet you with a smile and say,

“Welcome Home!”

(author unknown – possibly Ardis Marletta)

 

 

 

Obituary for Madelon J. Andrews

 

Madelon J. Andrews, 87, of New Franklin passed away on May 10, 2019. She worked as a nurse for over ten years at Edwin Shaw. She was a member of Park United Methodist Church and volunteered at Good Neighbors Food Pantry and in the kindergarten class at Lawndale Elementary School, where she was known as Grandma Madelon.

Madelon was preceded by her husband of 53 years, Roger Andrews. She is survived by her children, Douglas (Tami) Andrews, Greg (Tammy) Andrews and Susan (Stephen) Partridge; grandchildren, Stacey, Matthew, TJ, Cameron, Madelon and Patrick.

A Celebration Of Life service will be held at Park United Methodist Church, 2308 24th St. S.W. on Monday at 7 p.m. officiated by Rev. John Partridge. The family will receive friends an hour before from 6 to 7. Donations, if desired may be made to Good Neighbors Food Pantry.

 

(Published in Akron Beacon Journal May 12 to May 13, 2019)

Myrtle M. Hanna: Eulogy and Obituary

PastorPartridge Eulogy ,

Eulogy for Myrtle Mae Hanna

Written by her youngest daughter, Jill Rowland

April 6, 2019

 

Maya Angelou said, “The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place we can go as we are and not be questioned.” We all yearn for that kind of home; Myrtle was no exception.   For Myrtle, home was central to her life.  As a child, her cherished home shaped her, and as an adult, she was a home maker. In this world, home was her favorite place to be and the main place from which she served and blessed others.

Myrtle’s love of home began on her family’s farm in Athens, Tennessee, where she was born in 1927. Her parents raised most of their own food and grew cotton and tobacco to sell.  She was the fifth out of ten children, the oldest of whom was a sister, plus eight brothers. Being surrounded by boys influenced her personality; she was spunky, straightforward, resilient, and opinionated. She was no sissy and nobody’s fool.  It was hard for her kids and grandkids to get away with anything because she already knew all the tricks! In fact, they nicknamed her after a flowering vine called “Creeping Myrtle” because of her uncanny knack for silently creeping up behind them just in time to see them doing something they weren’t supposed to do.

Myrtle’s time at home on the farm shaped her lifelong interests.  Working in their garden developed her green thumb, and as an adult she loved to grow both vegetables and flowers. Her lasting preference for country music came from times spent listening to the Grand Ol’ Opry around the radio with her family.

Myrtle also developed her admirable work ethic on the farm.  By the time she was old enough to reach the sink while standing on a chair, she was responsible for washing the dishes.  To alleviate the drudgery, she would make the dishes sing and talk with each other. She also gathered eggs, picked cotton, churned butter, and milked the cows by hand, expertly squirting milk into barn cats’ open mouths when they begged.

Despite daily chores and ornery brothers, Myrtle had a happy childhood. She felt well loved by her parents and was thankful for her dad’s wise money management.  Their debt-free farm provided a secure home and plenty of food to eat during the Great Depression when so many others were going homeless and hungry.  And life wasn’t all chores; she and her siblings roamed the farm together, swam in their creek, and played lots of baseball.

Her teen years, sadly, were darkened by the military service of two older brothers sent to fight in World War II followed by the death of her mother when Myrtle was only seventeen.  When she graduated from high school in 1945 and the war ended, she was ready for a new beginning.

This led to Myrtle’s first, treasured home as an independent adult. Some of Myrtle’s close childhood girlfriends had moved to Washington, D.C. in pursuit of good jobs, and they soon convinced her to join them there.  The six girls lived together in a cute little cape cod, and Myrtle worked as a maintenance dispatcher for the Chesapeake and Potomac Telephone Company. She remembered those carefree days fondly for the rest of her life. She excelled at work, and teammates on her office softball team called her “Old Slugger” due to her talent for hitting that had been honed over countless games with her brothers.  She laughed and had fun with her roommates and jitterbugged on the weekends at dance ballrooms.

During this period, a young Marine from Lisbon, Ohio, named Richard Hanna walked into her life. When he first laid eyes on Myrtle, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen (and she thought he was pretty cute, too!).  Six months later, they were married on October 24, 1947, a union that lasted 59 years. Their strengths and weaknesses balanced each other. She had lots of common sense and was more practical, while he was more of a kid at heart.  In later years, she fed the grandchildren healthy, balanced meals, and he sugared them up on outings to get ice cream. He always called her “Myrt, Hon,” and they were dedicated to each other.

The newlyweds created their own loving home together as a couple. After Richard’s active duty in the Marines ended, he joined the Reserve and they moved to the Alliance area to start a trucking company. The next year, they welcomed their daughter, Patty, and he was called up to fight in the Korean War. In his absence, the new mother on her own used her keen business sense to successfully manage the company and eliminate its debt. Upon his return, Myrtle became a full-time stay-at-home mom, and they welcomed their son, Bruce, in 1953, followed by their mid-life surprise, Jill, fifteen years later.

Myrtle truly strove to be a home maker—to make a home for her husband and children that provided stability and comfort in an uncertain world.  She succeeded.   She was a hard worker who expressed her love for others largely through service. She showed her affection not only through hugs and saying, “I love you,” but also through her immaculately clean home that was guest-ready at all times, daily hot breakfasts before school, homemade dinners each evening, and impeccably washed and ironed clothing.  She was a room mother at her children’s school for many years, helping with the class parties, and never missed an open house. When her kids were sick, there could not have been a more attentive nurse. She was a pro at making a cozy bed on the couch and bringing candy treats like Reese’s Cups home from the pharmacy to help make the medicine go down. She was always there for them.

Myrtle’s home was a safe haven for relatives and a welcoming place for friends. She was blessed with lasting friendships from childhood and beyond, such as with Jean Poto, Helen Greiner, Esther Ball Hamlin, Nancy and Dick Morris, Bea Sassaman, and Sheila Williamson. She warmly welcomed her kid’s friends, too, and Lisa Tennis, Jill’s dear childhood friend and next-door neighbor, remembers Myrtle as a second mother to her.

Guests to Myrtle’s home were blessed by her Southern hospitality, especially when it came to food.  If you left her house hungry, you had nobody to blame but yourself! People reminisce about her Italian chicken, meatloaf, biscuits, banana pudding, chocolate cake, homemade jelly, and Sunday roast beef after church served with fluffy mashed potatoes and gravy (made from scratch, of course–canned gravy was a sacrilege to Myrtle!). When her adult kids left her house after a visit, often with a care package of leftovers in hand, she would stand at her door, waving good-bye and blowing them kisses until they were out of her sight.

Myrtle’s church home was here at Christ United Methodist, where she was a member for over six decades. In her younger years, she was active in adult Sunday school and a women’s circle.  She was a believer who attended church regularly with her husband and children, and she made sure that her kids heard about Jesus. Jill remembers her mom carefully writing out the Lord’s Prayer by hand on a piece of notebook paper and helping her to memorize it.  Myrtle took seriously the Bible verse (in Proverbs 22:6) telling parents to “Train up a child in the way he should go.”

Myrtle had a heart for helping other women in times of need.  She cooked for elderly widows in her neighborhood and drove them to doctor’s appointments and to the grocery store. She also had a soft spot for new moms. When her neighbor and friend, Sheila, had her first baby and was feeling overwhelmed, Myrtle characteristically showed up with a tray heaped full of her famous Italian chicken, sides, and dessert, and later brought cheerful bouquets of flowers from her garden. The Bible says that “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.”       (1 Peter 4:10) Myrtle used her gifts of her home, her cooking, and her hospitality to bless others.

Myrtle’s older years brought an abundance of blessings, including her daughter-in-law, Joanie, and her son-in-law, Bill, together with her beloved grandkids, Jacob, John, Megan, and Sophie, and two great-granddaughters, Olive and Vivian.  However, Myrtle had her share of sorrows. She survived breast cancer and heart surgeries and outlived all but two of her ten siblings. In 2007, the love of her life, Richard, died; in 2012, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s; and in 2016, her dear granddaughter, Megan, passed away.  These were profound losses for the entire family. Despite Myrtle’s dementia, however, she always remembered her loved ones, maintained a sweet demeanor, and could enjoy herself in the moment.

One thing that even grief and Alzheimer’s couldn’t rob from Myrtle was her mischievous love of laughter. One day while in the car with her daughters, Myrtle saw a sight that she had never seen before in her eighty-plus years: a man on a recumbent bicycle wearing a neon cyclist’s outfit with skin-tight shorts.  Myrtle said, “Whaaaat in the world??? Would you just look at that?!” and burst into helpless laughter.

Due to the Alzheimer’s, Myrtle had to move to a care facility, but she missed her previous homes.  She pined for “the old house” on Freedom Street and for her childhood farm in Tennessee, and she struggled constantly to understand where she was in time and space.  No matter where she was, she repeatedly asked “Where is this place located?”  When she was suffering in the hospital with the blood clots in her leg that led to her death, some of her last words, other than “I love you,” were “I can’t wait to go home.”

Now Myrtle’s deep desire to go home has been fulfilled. God plants this yearning for home in our hearts, and only being home with Him can ever fully satisfy it.  Myrtle never again needs to ask where she is.  She is in the arms of Jesus. As Billy Graham said, “My home is in Heaven; I am just traveling through this world.”  Myrtle is truly home at last.

 

Obituary for Myrtle M. (Brock) Hanna

March 7, 1927 ~ March 28, 2019 (age 92)

 

Myrtle HannahMyrtle Mae (Brock) Hanna, age 92, a longtime citizen of Alliance who recently resided at Copeland Oaks in Sebring, passed away at 12:56 p.m., Thursday, March 28, 2019, at the Community Care Center of Alliance after a short illness.

She was born March 7, 1927, in Athens, Tennessee, to Horace A. and Ira A. (Lowry) Brock.

One of ten children, Myrtle was raised during the Great Depression on her family’s tobacco and cotton farm, where she learned the value of thrift and hard work. She graduated as a straight-A student from McMinn High School in 1945 before moving with friends to Washington, D.C. and working as a maintenance dispatcher for the Chesapeake and Potomac Telephone Company.  On the weekends, Myrtle liked to jitterbug and socialize. She soon met the love of her life, Richard, a Marine from Lisbon, Ohio, who was stationed at Camp Lejeune. They were married on October 24, 1947.

The newlyweds moved to the Alliance area, where they established a trucking company and welcomed their daughter, Patty.  When Richard was sent to fight with the Marine Corps Reserve in the Korean War, Myrtle used her talent for business to successfully manage the venture in his absence.  Upon his return, she became a full-time homemaker for their family, which grew to include their son, Bruce, and their daughter, Jill.

A person of faith, Myrtle was a member of Christ United Methodist Church for over six decades and was active there in her younger years.  Her other pursuits included growing vegetables and flowers, picking berries and making jam, cooking, visiting relatives in Tennessee, going for walks, and helping neighbors in need. Most of all, she enjoyed spending time with her family and close friends. Her Southern hospitality, delicious meals, common sense, mischievous laughter, and heartfelt hugs will be sorely missed.

Survivors include Myrtle’s two daughters, Patricia Eckert of Alliance and Jill (Bill) Rowland of Columbus; son, Bruce (Joan) Hanna of Manitowoc, Wisconsin; three grandchildren, Jacob Eckert of Alliance, Jon (Andrea) Hanna of Oshkosh, Wisconsin, and Sophie Rowland of Columbus; two great-grandchildren, Olive and Vivian Hanna of Oshkosh, Wisconsin; two brothers, Claude Brock of Leesburg, Georgia, and Fred (Melissa) Brock of Ruskin, Florida; dear friends, Jean Poto, Nancy and Dick Morris, and Sheila Williamson; and numerous nieces and nephews.

In addition to her parents, Myrtle was preceded in death by her husband of fifty-nine years, Richard C. Hanna; a sister, Daisy Shipley; six brothers, John, Doyle, Howard, Clifford, Henry, and Glen Brock; and a granddaughter, Megan Hanna.

Friends may call at Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. on Friday, April 5, and at Christ United Methodist Church from 10:00 to 11:00 a.m. on Saturday, April 6.    A funeral service will immediately follow at the church with Reverend John Partridge and Pastor Rick Sams officiating. Interment will be at Highland Memorial Park.

Memorial contributions may be made to Christ United Methodist Church, 470 East Broadway Street, Alliance, Ohio, 44601.

Arrangements are by Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home, 75 S. Union Avenue, Alliance, Ohio, 44601.

 

Eulogy and Obituary for Wayne A. “Moose” Rinehart

PastorPartridge Eulogy , , , , , ,

Eulogy for

Wayne A. Rinehart

January 16, 2019

By Rev. John Partridge

 

Ecclesiastes 3:1-15

3:1 There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:

2     a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3     a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,
4     a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6     a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7     a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8     a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.

9 What do workers gain from their toil? 10 I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. 11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. 12 I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. 13 That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. 14 I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him.

15 Whatever is has already been, and what will be has been before; and God will call the past to account.

Matthew 5:1-12

5:1 Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, 2 and he began to teach them.

He said:

3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4 Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
5 Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
6 Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
7 Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
8 Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
9 Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
10 Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

11 “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. 12 Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

I spent some time talking to Wayne’s friend, Maggie Bugara, yesterday to get a sense of who Wayne Rinehart was.  It didn’t take too long to understand that he was a nice guy and the sort of a man that people respected and liked to be around.  Wayne didn’t ever really have a use for the church so, as a pastor, many of the things that I usually say at funerals feels sort of awkward or out of place.  But as a veteran, I think I have a feeling for who Wayne was at a different level.

Wayne Rinehart, “Moose” to many of his friends, was a kind man.  He was a long-time member, and twice elected commander, of VFW Post 1036 here in Alliance.  He selflessly spent his time, his talent, and his treasure to work for, and to help fellow veterans.  In return, those veterans became friends and loved him back.  And in the last few years, after he had moved to the Danbury, he continued to make friends of both his fellow residents as well as the staff there.  Wayne was a kind, compassionate, and loving man.

But Wayne Rinehart was also a man who loved his family.  He never stopped loving his wife Marjorie, whom he married in 1959, and to whom he remained married for 49 years.  Even after he lost Marjorie in 2008, Wayne never stopped missing her.  Wayne also loved his brothers and sisters and their children, his daughter Sherri, and his granddaughter Ashlyn.

For years, one of his favorite things in the world was to go to fairs and horse shows, and watch Ashlyn show horses.  He was so very proud of her, and almost never stopped talking about his great love, and his pride in her.  Even after he and Sherri were estranged from one another, he never stopped caring, or loving, any of his family.   He missed them and wanted them to be a part of his life.  Even as he neared death, he would call out to them.  In fact, Wayne often wondered what he had done wrong and thought about how things could ever be made right between them again.  Many tears were shed with his friends as he thought about such things and their separation weighed heavily upon him.  In the end, his friends think that Wayne just gave up fighting, and it is entirely possible that Wayne simply died of a broken heart.

But through it all, it is clear that Wayne “Moose” Rinehart touched many lives, and many of you who are gathered here can testify to what he has meant to you in your life.

There’s an often repeated saying that is worth repeating again here:

Cry not because he’s gone.
Smile because he was here.

And now, I’m turning the eulogy over to you, because each of you knew Wayne better than I did.  What is it that you remember?  How did Moose touch your life?  How did he make you smile?  How did he make you laugh?  These are the things that you should remember, hold onto, and treasure.

 

 

Obituary for

Wayne A. “Moose” Rinehart

 

wayne rinehartWayne Allen “Moose” Rinehart, age 86, of Alliance, passed away at 4:35 p.m., Thursday, January 10, 2019, at Danbury Senior Living of Alliance.

He was born August 23, 1932, in Garards Fort, Pennsylvania, to Calvin “Ed” and Gail (Blake) Rinehart.

Wayne served in the United States Army from 1953 to 1955.

He was employed with Highway Asphalt: Division of Kenmore Construction until his retirement.

Wayne joined the International Union of Operating Engineers in 1955, the Masonic Lodge in 1964 and was a lifetime member of the VFW Post 1036, which he served as commander two times.

He enjoyed gambling and loved watching his granddaughter show her horses.
Survivors include his daughter, Sherri (Jim) Pinkerton; granddaughter, Ashlyn Pinkerton; and sister, Carol White, all of Alliance; and close friend and caregiver, Maggie Bugara, of Sebring.

In addition to his parents, Wayne was preceded in death by his wife, Marjorie (McCreery) Rinehart, whom he married July 4, 1959 and who died January 7, 2008; three brothers and a sister.

Services will be held 11 a.m., Wednesday, January 16, 2019 at Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home with Pastor John Partridge officiating. Friends may call from 5 to 7 p.m., Tuesday, January 15, at the funeral home. Interment will be at Highland Memorial Park.
Arrangements are by Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home 75 S. Union Ave., Alliance, OH 44601.

 

 

Eulogy and Obituary for Anne King Brown

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Eulogy for Anne King Brown

October 27, 2018

by Pastor John Partridge

 

Anne King Brown was a preacher’s kid like me.  She grew up following her itinerant Methodist pastor dad from town to town and from church to church.  She was the big sister and she always took that role seriously, especially when it came to David.  Certainly, some of her devotion could have come about naturally, but it is also likely that some of it grew from the time that David had Rheumatic Fever and nearly died.  Anne King adored David and was always a doting big sister even as an adult.  She liked to do things for him and would push him aside when he was washing or drying dishes and take his place at the sink.  She was always watching over him.

 

But that doesn’t mean that they didn’t have any normal sibling squabbles.  When the family lived in Camptown, Pennsylvania David was on the swing set when Anne came and asked to have a turn.  David let her on, but she wouldn’t get off.  And so, little brother eventually got so mad that he threw a rock at her and hit her right between the eyes.  And that, in turn, resulted in Anne crying and Dad administering some parental justice, if you get my meaning.  Later she was swimming in Lake George, New York with David on her shoulders and stepped into water that was deeper than she was tall.  When she finally surfaced she told David that he’d nearly drown her.  I think that scared them both, and probably David worst of all.  Still another time, David was admiring Anne’s new (to her) ’56 Ford.  Having never seen one before, David was studying the cigarette lighter and unintentionally branded her vinyl seats with it.  He later tried to cover it up a little with magic marker, but we all know that didn’t really fix it.  Anne always harassed David along the lines of, “I love you, but you’re always breaking my stuff.”

 

But those of you who knew her also knew that it wasn’t just David.  He may have been Anne’s favorite, but Anne was a nurturer at heart and she always put the needs of others ahead of her own.  She rarely chose the restaurant when she was in a group and almost always said, “Wherever you want to go is fine.”  Anne King, as her family called her, was a hard worker, but a gentle soul who was not generally assertive, and most often introverted.  She loved reading and was a voracious reader.  She liked to travel, liked cruises, and once took a trip on the Queen Elizabeth II to England.  She loved playing bridge with the ladies at the Alliance Women’s Club.  She liked going on trip with friends to visit historical places and liked history in general but was especially fond of studying the Middle Ages.  She went on family vacations to California, seeing Disneyland and Knott’s Berry Farm, and played canasta with her parents in the evening.  Like many young people, while her parents were “Ooh”-ing and “Ahh”-ing over the scenery, she and David were in the back seat of the car reading books or otherwise ignoring the scenery entirely.

 

But one of Anne’s greatest achievements, at least in her opinion, had to be becoming, and being, a teacher.  Anne worked for, and retired from, the Alliance school system and she was proud of the fact that many of her students surrounded her in our community as administrators, teachers, business leaders, and many others.  It was not uncommon for her to be approached in the grocery store or at public events and have someone introduce themselves and say, “You were my teacher.”  Anne was proud of being a good teacher and her life touched a lot of people.  While not everyone liked the tight ship, she ran in her classroom, her fellow teachers did, and some of her students would later admit that her teaching, and her strictness, was good for them even if they didn’t especially like it at the time.  Anne appreciated that her rescuer and redeemer, Jesus, was also a great teacher.  In Luke chapters 20 and 21 we hear these words:

20:1 One day as Jesus was teaching the people in the temple courts and proclaiming the good news, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, together with the elders, came up to him. 2 “Tell us by what authority you are doing these things,” they said. “Who gave you this authority?”

3 He replied, “I will also ask you a question. Tell me: 4 John’s baptism—was it from heaven, or of human origin?”

5 They discussed it among themselves and said, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will ask, ‘Why didn’t you believe him?’ 6 But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’ all the people will stone us, because they are persuaded that John was a prophet.”

7 So they answered, “We don’t know where it was from.”

8 Jesus said, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.”

And it is interesting to note that it wasn’t unusual for Jesus to teach in the Temple.  In chapter 21 it says:

21:37 Each day Jesus was teaching at the temple, and each evening he went out to spend the night on the hill called the Mount of Olives, 38 and all the people came early in the morning to hear him at the temple.

And so, I am sure that Anne appreciated that Jesus understood what it was like to teach every day.

 

Anne never married, but her nurturing spirit naturally adopted Matthew and Kristen as her own.  She saw them whenever she could, spoiled them whenever possible, and while she spent her winters in Florida, she loved the times when the whole family was there together, because that was the time when they could see one another several times each week instead of only occasional visits.

 

As the family shared memories and stories with me this week, they remembered how Anne could be stubborn about not wearing her hearing aids.  She didn’t like them, and so, although she kept them with her, she often wouldn’t wear them.  On one occasion, Anne and Theresa were making a trip together to the bead store to see if they could find anything that they liked.  And on that trip Theresa was sharing news about her children and catching Anne up on family news, and at one point, Anne noticed that Theresa was talking with her hands, turned to her and asked,“Were you saying something?”  To which Theresa impatiently responded, “Anne King!  I’ve been talking to you for twenty minutes!  This is important.  Put your hearing aids in and I’ll start over again.”

 

David confided that the last few years, seeing his sister in pain was difficult, but the family is comforted by the knowledge that Anne had a deep and abiding faith in Jesus and that they will one day see her again when they are reunited in God’s eternal home.  Anne, and her family, would like you to have that same confidence.  If you aren’t sure how you can, please see me, or talk to David, before you go home today.

 

Anne Brown’s life might sometimes be described as inconspicuous.  She usually didn’t make a fuss, and most often let others get their way.  But in her own way, inconspicuous or not, Anne left her mark on literally thousands of people.  She invested her entire life in the lives of others.  And her entire family, each of us here, her church, her clubs, and our entire community have been incredibly enriched because of her.

 

We would all honor her legacy if we would remember to spend some of our time investing in the lives of the people around us.

 

 

 

 

 Obituary for Anne King Brown

Anne BrownAnne King Brown, age 78, of Alliance, passed away at 8:46 a.m., Friday, October 19, 2018, at Alliance Community Hospital.
She was born February 23, 1940, in Columbus, Ohio, to Gladstone and Anne (Wursthorn) Brown.
Anne received her Bachelor of Arts from Bowling Green State University and had earned a Reading Specialist Degree from Kent State University. She retired from the Alliance City School System.
She grew up in the United Methodist Church, and was a member of P.E.O., Bridge Buddies Club Day, Quota International of Alliance, Alliance Woman’s Club and Tennysonians Book Club and former President of the Ohio Teachers Association. She had a thousand hours of volunteer work at Alliance Community Hospital.
Anne enjoyed wintering in Florida, spending time with her family and traveling. She was an avid reader and also enjoyed beading jewelry.
Survivors include her brother, David (Theresa) Brown, of Okemos, Michigan; niece, Kristen (Justin) Horine, of Lakewood; great-nephews, Zane King Horine and Huxley Horine of Lakewood; nephew, Matthew (Christina) Brown of Warminster, PA; great-niece, Sophia Brown of Warminster, PA; and close family friend, Tammi Taylor, of Sebring, Ohio. She is also survived by many cousins.
Services will be held at 11 a.m. Saturday, October 27, 2018, at Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home with Pastor John Partridge of Christ United Methodist Church officiating. Friends may call one hour prior to the service.
Interment will be at St. Joseph Cemetery.
In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to the Alliance Woman’s Club 229 S. Union Ave., Alliance, OH 44601.
Arrangements are by Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home 75 S. Union Ave., Alliance, OH 44601.

 

 

 

Eulogy and Obituary for Marcene Buchs

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Eulogy for Marcene Buchs

October 06, 2018

by Pastor John Partridge

My family and I moved to Alliance during the last week of June.  And so, on Thursday of this week, when Mike and Amy asked me if I had even had a chance to meet Marcene, I honestly wasn’t sure.  Until I stared working on my remarks for today and pulled up her obituary and saw her photograph.  But then I knew.  I knew that I had met Marcene but hadn’t yet had the chance to get to know her.  But many others did.  At church, Marcene was known to be a sweet lady who was always well put together.  She was always dressed fashionably, not to in any way act as if she was better than anyone else, but simply because being impeccably dressed was important to her.  She had flair.  People noticed when Marcene entered a room.  She was known, always, to be a classy lady as well as a person of deep and personal faith.

Marcene Buchs grew up taking care of her dad.  And when she had done that then it was time to take care of her mom, and then it was her Aunt Ellen.  She was a caregiver.  It wasn’t a life that she chose, but she accepted it as her responsibility.  She grew up in Beechwood in a family of farmers.  But she came to Christ United Methodist Church more than 60 years ago when her family moved to Alliance while she was in the fifth grade.  She was both faithful and dedicated to our church and was sure to attend every week for as long as she was able.

Over the years, she worked as a secretary and kept the bills paid.  She didn’t have a fairy tale life by any stretch of the imagination, but she was known for her strength of character, she always took the high road, did things the “right way,” and always did everything well and with excellence.  Although she never felt sorry for herself, sometimes the events and the circumstances of her life led her to feel insecure.  She lived in a small town, and she knew what people said about her, but that, and despite her insecurity, she refused to retreat, and forced herself to participate in the community.

Marcene was always “super-devoted” to her family and to her grandchildren.  She didn’t just care about what they did, she devoted herself to exploring, learning, and doing her very best to understand what they did whether it was sports, or music, or quilting, publishing, or rocket science. Marcene was a reader, and she had always read everything.   But whenever she knew what her family or friends were interested in, she read about that too.  Although she didn’t have a CD player in her home, she did have one in her car.  And so, in order to listen to her grandson Chase’s CD’s, she would get in her car and drive around town so that she could listen to them.  As Mike and Amy went through her things, they discovered that Marcene had kept detailed records of her life and of her family’s life.  Events and projects that they had long forgotten, were carefully recorded and kept in her albums and notebooks.

Marcene Buchs was a minimalist who loved order.  She owned a small number of outfits and when she bought a new one, an old one had to go.  Nothing in her home was out of place.  She appreciated order and she paid great attention to every detail.  But Marcene’s insistence on perfection only applied to herself.  She was forgiving of others and understood that they were different than she was.

Perhaps the most obvious example of who Marcene was, is found in her son Mike.  As the saying goes, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”  And Mike didn’t become the caring, considerate, intelligent, driven, and loving person that he is by accident.  He is a living example of Marcene’s influence on his life and a reflection of who she was.

Much of her life was devoted to caring for others and while was greatly loved by others, she loved them all right back.  But, as I noted earlier, Marcene’s faith was important to her.  She made sure that Mike grew up in the church and passed her faith on to him.  And when her grandchildren arrived, she invested herself in them so that they could learn it as well.  As I talked to Mike and Amy, we knew that Marcene would not want this moment to pass without sharing her faith with you as well.  Marcene Buchs put her full faith and trust in Jesus Christ as her savior.  She believed that Jesus died for her sins so that she could, at this very moment, stand before God, forgiven, redeemed, and perfect.  We know where Marcene will spend her eternity, and she wants every one of you to join her there when your day comes.  If you don’t know how to do that, Marcene’s family and I urge you to talk to one of us afterward.

But of all of us, Mike knew her best of all.  And so, although he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stand up here today and share his thoughts, these are his words:

A Son’s Reflections

by Michael Robert Johanson

We are gathered here together to honor and celebrate the life of my mother, Marcene Buchs. My mother was a throwback and maintained the sensibilities of another time always attempting to do the right thing optimistically even when it was not popular or easy. She was not deceived by the complexities in this world and was firmly rooted in the simplicities that are the foundation of our being.  That is her message to us.  She would have loved the flowers in the room today and would remind us all to enjoy the sight and scent.  She would not want any of us to mourn today rather to channel the spirit she has put in all of us to live up to our potential, do the right things, listen, encourage, pick each other up when we fall have hope, faith and leave a positive mark on this world.

I have spent much time this week thinking of what should be said, attempting to properly honor my mom’s memory or even partially convey the wonderful life my family and I were lucky enough to share with her.  Should I list all of her accomplishments which were many?  She was capable far beyond what we all saw – she had a mighty inner strength.  Should I tell stories from the farm in Beachwood?  Those would be funny particularly the “hammer story” (though probably still not funny to her brother my uncle Bob).  Her happiness, optimism and vision of the future during her youth – she always did her very best?  The energy and pride she always exemplified in the workforce?        But all of this can be read in the newspaper this week.  What isn’t there is her devotion and love for her family.  Her grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, brother and his family, taking care of her mother, father, and her son who were always steadfastly by her side and her by them.  I came along not under ideal circumstances, but you would have never known it. Her devotion and love made my life ideal.

If she were planning today’s service she would be playing videos in the hall of rockets launching things I’ve built into space.  A spread of magazines that Amy had created that highlighted her handiwork that she was so overjoyed to see on a newsstand.  She would play highlight reels of her grandson Noah throwing a football.  She often went on long drives to listen to songs on the CD player of her grandson Chase that always lift her up and “made the sunshine come out”. Those songs were played today prior to this service per her request and they meant the world to her.  She was very proud of all of Chase’s accomplishments. She would showcase her “superhero” grandson Ellis’s many activities, performances, beautiful voice and intellect and also remark how she was able to get a little piece of her own son back through him.  She would spent endless hours studying and learning about all our interests and made them her own.  And while none of this would be about her.  In her mind it was all about her, and it is.

I found a folder this week in her important papers titled Emotional Serenade.  In this folder of poems and writings I got a chance to get inside my mom’s spirit in ways I had not seen before.  In her writings I think she described who she was far better than I ever could in the following poem:

THE CATALPA TREES ARE BLOOMING ON HAINES AVENUE

The Catalpas are blooming on Haines Avenue;

their snow-like blossoms are fresh and white and new.

They crown the branches of the stately trees

and cover the ground with a summer freeze.

In time, long green beans will appear,

hanging amidst the elephantine leaves part of the year.

This makes Haines different from Wright, Union or Summit,

indeed it is the very best part of it!

The red bricked street of a yesterday,

scene of a childhood summer of play.

I was fresh from the farm and an isolated life

thrust on a sidewalk of kids amidst workman and buses,

backyard cherry trees – neat houses and gardens,

flower bedecked porches, new shoes bought on an

afternoon trip downtown, birthday parties on the lawn,

bank tellers, clothiers, teachers, mailmen, executives

and retirees – a grocery store that smelled so right

with licorice cigars and other delights…

everything so lazy and forever.  Now all gone mainly

BUT THE TREES

I had always known the infinite variety of trees;

all the magical appendages moving in the breeze;

their sudden brilliant hues burning even after the fade;

their wealth worth more than could ever be paid.

Yet I was amazed at the leaves on a hunt for my son

and ran around saying, in effect, “Here’s one, here’s one!”

Then it was the Ginkgo that mesmerized me,

but the Catalpas are a gift by the powers that be

and are for the moment what’s happening on Haines.

They come to me, and the thrill never wanes.

  • BUCHS

My mother was always my unexpected messenger encouraging me (and all of us) to accomplish the impossible and she led by example in ways that I didn’t always understand or comprehend.  But eventually, I would always understand completely.  While her life didn’t always meet the expectations she perhaps had for herself, she made the best of every moment and worked tirelessly to make sure those around her had the best opportunities, were the best prepared, and when we needed a boost, she was there to lift us up.  Though 620 Wright Ave was just a small dot on big planet she always encouraged me to be OPEN and ready to take on the world.  She taught me that if I opened up my mind I could be and do anything.  If I opened up my dreams the impossible became possible. If I opened up my heart I would always be surrounded by the very best people.  If I opened up my eyes the path forward would always be clear.  And if I opened my arms she would and will always be there.

In her notes this week she left me a final piece of advice in her Emotional Serenade folder.  I’m not sure she wrote it but she typed it and put in a place so I would see it first.  I think is a continuing message for all of us:

“People tend to look in each other’s wallets instead of each other’s eyes.  You can’t buy a look into someone’s heart.  Or a loving look.  Or a smile.  The retention of important memories is a gift beyond price.  Memory is where the proof of life is stored.  Unobstructed access to memories is both a sign of good health and a measure of true wealth.  Money can’t buy health and money can’t buy hope.”

I am thankful for the time that we have had on this Earth together, and her passing reminds me to value the time we all have with our loved ones. To allow our ‘time’ on this planet to walk with us rather than be our adversary and to cherish every moment, because they will never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we lived, and I know how much my mother loved this life and those of you who shared it with her. So those of us who knew her will understand when I say that her passing to me is truly only that state in which she exists within all of us whose lives she has touched, which is why today is not about an end. I know she lives on within me and my children and that too shall pass to my children’s children. No good-byes mom, just wonderful memories.  You will walk with me always. I will see you again.

-Michael Robert Johanson

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Eulogy and Obituary for Jack Madison

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Eulogy for Jack (John) L. Madison

August 09, 2018

by Pastor John Partridge

I only met Jack Madison a month ago and I have already learned what most of you have known for a long time.  Simply knowing Jack was enough to change your life.  It isn’t that Jack was some powerful force of nature that was impossible to ignore, in fact, it’s almost the opposite.  Jack Madison was the kind of a guy who influenced the people around him, and changed the world, without ever intending to do it.  But first, let’s go back to the beginning of the story.

Jack Madison was born on November 5th, 1928 to his mother, Florence and his father, John Madison.  Jack’s father had immigrated here from Romania and settled in Alliance and went to work in his wife’s family greenhouse business.  Their house, and the land upon which the greenhouses sat, became Jack’s home for nearly all his life.  But, at the age of 16, within a span of two months, Jack lost his mother to breast cancer and then his grandmother as well.  My guess is, that the response of the community and of his church, to that tragedy and their help in getting him through it, shaped Jack’s dedication to helping others and giving back to his community, whenever he could.

Jack went to school at Alliance High School and then to Mount Union, where he pledged the Sigma Nu fraternity.  During the Korean Conflict, Jack joined the Coast Guard, travelled to training in San Francisco, California, Atlanta, Georgia, and New London, Connecticut, before being stationed in New York City to assist with port security.  That stretch in the military was one of the only times that Jack ever lived outside of Alliance and even then, his character shone through.  Whenever anyone would say anything about his military service, Jack would almost always change the discussion to how proud he was of his brother’s service.

Jack and his brother Elvin were hardly ever apart.  At one point, Elvin came home with an old Model-T, and the two of them shared it and kept it running.  Jack eventually fell in love with Deon Russell, who became his wife and who worked as a nurse at Aultman Hospital.  Together they liked to ride their bicycles, enjoy the parks and the scenery around Alliance, and stay active.  To support his family, Jack started out working for the family greenhouse business, but eventually chose not to take over the business and do his own thing.  And, as everyone knows, whatever Jack set his mind to doing, he did it well and with dedication.  Jack worked for the Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company for 40 years and eventually oversaw the financial operations for the racing tire division and later, for the blimp division.  His family told me the other night, that because of his position and his connections, the entire family always had Goodyear jackets, and hats, tickets to car races, and other cool stuff from the racing teams and at one point even got a blimp ride.

But Jack wasn’t just about the free stuff.  For Jack it was always staying faithful to the things that were important to him and doing whatever he could to help the people, and the community, around him.  The entire family remembers travelling with Jack on lots of vacations together, that Jack’s was the phone number to call if you ever needed anything, and that Jack was always the “go to” guy for anyone that needed someone to get things right.  For years, Jack balanced his sister-in-law’s checkbook because she needed the help and he knew how to do it.  Jack also did what he could to help his roommate, John, who he had come to know like family.

For fun, Jack played the saxophone, four types of saxophones, and I don’t mean once in a while, in the basement.  Jack had a band.  And it was good.  Jack played in an orchestra, or a dance band, with a bunch of folks that played Big Band music and they rehearsed every week and performed somewhere regularly.  I was told that more than once, as the family drove past the club that is now the “Dusky Armadillo” in Rootstown, Jack pointed it out and told them that his band had played there many times.  Even after the Big Band era had passed, Jack continued to play the sax in the Alliance City Band.

There were several things in Jack’s life that never changed, and first among them was his love for, and his dedication to, his family.  Jack was always close to his family, and he instilled that closeness in everyone else as well.  Jack was dedicated to Alliance High School, and to Mount Union, went to many of their games long after he had any family members in school, and, with a little help, still saw a game last year.  Jack was always dedicated to his community, and belonged to his church, and volunteered regularly, for 50 years.  But in all of those things, even though he usually persuaded everyone to do things his way, Jack was never overbearing.  Jack wanted to make sure that his home, his cottage at Lakeside, his community, and its parks, all looked good, but although you always knew that he was a man of his word, he never worried about who would get the credit.  And the other things that didn’t change were that Jack always wore his Mount Union windbreaker and baseball cap, and, absolutely, had to wear shoes that were black.  No fancy colors, not even gray.  Only black was acceptable.  And there was no point even arguing about it.

The life of Jack Madison was often a living example of human determination.  Jack did whatever he had decided to do, regardless of his obstacles and limitation.  He was always busy, and he never let anything stop him.  Despite his arthritis, and the pain that it caused him, and the way that it bent his fingers and his hands, Jack still did whatever he set his mind to doing.  He would simply not accept any limitations.  At the family cottage in Lakeside, Ohio, Jack liked to “fish.”  But you see, Jack’s hobby wasn’t the usual sort of fishing.  Jack had a grappling hook, a pretty heavy one, on a rope or a chain, and Jack would throw that hook from the dock, pull it back in hand over hand, and see what sorts of treasure he could pull up.  Sometimes it was fishing tackle, and sometimes whole fishing rods that had been lost by other fishermen.  In recent years, Jack was still doing it, even with his arthritis and bent fingers, because nothing was going to stop Jack from doing what he wanted to do.  Discomfort, or even pain, wasn’t going to stop Jack from doing something that he enjoyed.

And so no, Jack Madison was not a force of nature that was impossible to ignore and bent everyone to his will.  But, in his own quiet way, he influenced the lives of everyone around him and changed the world.  Everyone that knew Jack carries with them life-changing lessons that we will never forget.  Always keep your family close.  Do whatever you can, whenever you can, whenever you can.  Always be useful.  Don’t be too proud to do hard work and don’t let your ego get in the way.  Just because you manage the finances of a Fortune 500 company doesn’t mean you’re too important to tidy up the flower beds in the park or balance your sister-in-law’s checkbook.  And don’t let anything stop you from doing the things that you enjoy.

If any of us can remember even half of what Jack taught us, and the life that he lived out every day, we will be better people, better families, a better church, and a better community than we used to be, and, like Jack, we will change the world.

 

 

Obituary for Jack (John) L. Madison

Jack MadisonJack L. Madison, age 89, of Alliance, Ohio, died Saturday, August 4, 2018, at Community Care Center surrounded by his family.
Born November 5, 1928 in Alliance, he was the son of the late John and Florence (Lozier) Madison.
He was preceded in death by his parents; wife, Deon (Russell) Madison; sister, D. Jean Madison Rudolph Krahling; and his best friend and brother, Elvin Madison.
He is survived by his sister-in-law, Jean Madison; grandsons, Jack and Thomas Madison and their mother, Diana D’Eramo Madison, of Alliance; nephews and nieces, Jack B. (Linda) Madison, Cindy (Ron) Knepp, Dick Madison, Chandi Rudolph (Kelly), Bob (Brenda) Madison; great-nieces and great-nephews, Lee, Sarah (Matt), Erika, Aaron (Juliana), Conner, Elliot, Aubrey, Bailey, Samantha, and Ellen; his good friends, Carol Wearstler and Tim Barnhouse; his close friend and roommate at Community Care, John Townsend; and a son, Edward.
Jack enjoyed working in the gardens around his house and in Madison Park, spending time at his cottage at Lakeside, Ohio, going to Alliance Aviator football and basketball games, and attending games at his Alma Mater, Mount Union College.
He volunteered in the Carnation Days in the Park, making hamburgers and hot dogs for The Christ United Methodist Church. His favorite thing was spending time with his grandsons and attending their various activities.
Mr. Madison retired, after 40 years of service, from the Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company. He worked in the finance department in many different aspects of the business from their racing tire division to the Blimp operations. In his early years, he worked in the greenhouses and drove the delivery truck for the family business, Lozier Greenhouse.
Mr. Madison was a graduate of Alliance High School. He graduated from Mount Union College in 1950 and was a member of Sigma Nu Fraternity. He served in the Coast Guard stationed in New York City with the Port Security. He was a 50-year member of Christ United Methodist Church of Alliance, Alliance Lions Club, and a member of The Alliance Shade Tree Committee. He began volunteering at Alliance Community Hospital in 1992 accumulating over 18, 630 hours. Jack was involved in many big band groups playing his saxophone as well as a member of the Alliance City Band. He was also a member of the Lakeside Guy’s Club.
The family would like to thank Community Care Center for the great care they gave Jack. He loved them like family and Dr. Lehrer and the Palliative Group for the compassionate care they have given to Jack.
Calling hours will be held from 6-8 p.m., Wednesday, August 8, 2018, at Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home. A second visitation will be held at 10 a.m., Thursday, August 9, 2018 at the funeral home with Jack’s service being held at 11 a.m. Burial will take place at Mount Union Cemetery in Alliance.
In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to Christ United Methodist Church, Community Care Center, Alliance Friends of Parks, or Lakeside Heritage Society 324 West Third St. Lakeside, Ohio 43440 for Building Fund.
Arrangements are by Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home 75 S. Union Ave., Alliance, OH 44601.

Eulogy and Obituary for Arden E. Tuttle

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Eulogy for Arden E. Tuttle

July 28, 2018

by Pastor John Partridge

 

I never had the chance to meet Arden Tuttle.

As I met with Arden’s family last week, I had never met any of them either.  And so, I asked them to tell me stories.  I asked a lot of questions because I wanted to know who she was beyond what we read in the obituary pages.  Not that her obituary is wrong, but only that, sort of by necessity, they tend to be a little dry two dimensional.  Instead, I wanted to know what it was like to know her, to be her friend, or her family, to live with her, or to live life alongside of her.

And what I found out was that anyone who wanted to be a part of Arden’s life had better be ready to run to keep up.  Sitting still, or at least sitting idle, didn’t suit her.  Arden was always busy doing something.

Arden Davis was born on the 4th of July in 1930, in Warren, Ohio and as far as I can tell, that’s about the only time that she wasn’t living life at a dead run, doing things for others, having adventures, trying new things, teaching others, and encouraging the rest of her friends and family to try to keep up.  In 1948, while attending Mount Union, she had 14 dates the first week, and Ward (Bud) was one of them.  But although she was the center of attention and had plenty of men competing for her attention, Bud was the one, and she took the bull by the horns and told him that she loved him.  Maybe it was because rather than trying to impress her, Bud had spent their time together teaching her how to play bridge.  Before long they were married, Bud was inducted into the Army during the Korean Conflict, and Arden was by his side as he went to training and then stationed in Indiana.  Throughout their adventures together, to Bud always referred to Arden as his “Little Rabbit” or just as “kiddo.”

As her family listed all the things that she had done, and all the clubs or organizations to which she had belonged, they started with the list in the obituary and just kept adding things to it as our conversation caused them to remember more.  Arden was active on lots of boards, she served in some capacity, wherever they lived, in every church to which they belonged.  Arden just couldn’t stay at home.  She didn’t much care for cooking or cleaning, or any kind of “domestic stuff,” but she did like gardening.  She also tried her hand at flower arranging and joined a group to learn how to do that, but her family doesn’t recall very many flowers ever making it home.

Arden was a life-long learner.  She loved education, travel, knowledge, and reading.  She never met a book she didn’t like, and books always seemed to find their way home with her.  They came home from the library book sale, and the book of the month club, and from her book club in town, and from anywhere else that she might meet one.  And she read them all.  She loved teaching.  And when she retired from teaching, she re-invented herself and learned how to be a financial planner and she was proud of that accomplishment, but she couldn’t really stop teaching.  She took the time, in her retirement, to go back to school and read to kindergarten kids.   But then she re-invented herself again some years later when she became the owner of her own travel agency.  And that’s just a start.  Did I mention that she also owned a pre-school?

Arden was always ready to try new things and go to new places.  Her passion for travelling took her to all 50 states and 103 countries (London was far and away her favorite. She visited there 15 times!) Bud was with her every step of the way and her children just grew up travelling.  When it was time for a vacation they were in the car by 6:00 am and on the road.  Later, she planned trips for senior citizens to Cleveland, and anywhere that she could find to learn and explore.

Arden was the tomboy, the redhead, she described herself as “short but feisty,” and she was fearless.  As a Girls Scout leader, she and her girls were out camping during the time when there were reports that Bigfoot had been seen in the area, possibly what is still referred to as the “Minerva Monster.  While they were in the woods, they cooked, camped, and hiked, and one night all the girls were in a panic because some of them thought they had seen Bigfoot near their camp.  And so, Arden, without hesitation, marches off into the woods to see Bigfoot for herself.  Arden had a reputation.  If you needed something done, she was the one who made things happen.

Arden always enjoyed playing games.  She loved bridge from the moment that Bud taught her to play, and she loved card games and board games of all sorts, but she did not like Monopoly and she was not a sports fan.

This was a woman who really liked people.  She could, and did, make friends while standing in line, and one reason was almost certainly because she was always genuinely interested in their lives.  But just the same, she was a woman who spoke her mind, and wasn’t afraid to be aggressive when she felt she needed to, or when someone was doing something that she didn’t like.  Her family and friends knew her to be a good listener, and a person with whom you could share your problems without being judged.  As a mother of four children, she had a relaxed parenting style that allowed her kids to explore their own interests but, at the same time, she advocated and pushed for them to develop intellectually.  As they became adults, Arden simply enjoyed being able to have adult conversations with her children.  As a grandparent, while she loved on her grandchildren, but she wasn’t afraid to be critical of how her children parented them.

So how should we remember Arden Tuttle?

I’m pretty sure that if she knew you were sitting around moping, or spending too much time mourning her, she would give you an earful.  Instead, I think the best way that you can remember her is to follow her example.  Remember that life is an adventure. Don’t just sit still.  Try new things.  Do what you love. Read, explore, see the world, expand your horizons, and have fun doing it.

Arden did all these things, and she would want you to get out of your chair, get out of the house, and do the same.

 

 Obituary for Arden E. Tuttle

Arden TuttleArden E. Tuttle, age 88, of Alliance, passed away at 8:56 p.m., Wednesday, July 18, 2018, at Alliance Community Hospital.

She was born July 4, 1930, in Warren, Ohio, to Paul and Ruth (Gledhill) Davis.

Arden was formerly an elementary school teacher in Alliance, Canton and Newark Public Schools. She was also formerly employed as an insurance sales person with Metropolitan Insurance sales, certified financial planner with I.D.S. American Express, and former owner of the Lake Cable Travel Agency, and an Avon Sales lady.

She loved being a parent, grandparent, and travelling, visiting six continents, 103 countries and all 50 states. She also enjoyed being a teacher, Girl Scout leader and bridge player.

Arden was a member of the Christ United Methodist Church and a former member of the Board at the Church of the Lakes in Canton.

Her other memberships included the Tennysonians, president of the YWCA, board member of the Alliance Women’s Club, music study club, founder of the House and Garden Club, Senior Center Chorus, Alliance Country Club and the Retired Teachers Association.

Survivors include her husband, Ward Tuttle of Alliance, whom she married December 17, 1950; children, Jeff (Lucy) Tuttle of Santa Clara, California, Jim (Beth) Tuttle of Atlanta, Georgia, Randy (Edna) Tuttle of Columbus, Indiana and Joyce Tuttle of Atlanta, Georgia; sister, Sally Hitchcock of Denver, Colorado; brother, Paul (Joyce) Davis of Topanga Canyon, California; and grandchildren, Josh Tuttle of State College, Pennsylvania, Jamie (Martin) Gutfeldt of Chicago, Illinois, Ben Tuttle and Courtney Tuttle, both of Atlanta, Georgia, and Cristy, Megan and Bryan Tuttle, all of Columbus, Indiana.

Services will be held at 11 a.m., Saturday, July 28, 2018, at Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home with Rev. John Partridge officiating. Friends may call from 9 a.m. to 11 a.m., prior to the service. Interment will be at Fairmount Memorial Park.

Memorial Contributions may be made to the Greater Alliance Foundation 960 W. State St. Alliance, OH 44601.

Arrangements are by Cassaday-Turkle-Christian Funeral Home, 75 S. Union Ave., Alliance, OH 44601. Alliance, Ohio.