http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/sunherald/obituary.aspx?n=harry-stamps&pid=163538353
QuoteHarry Weathersby Stamps
December 19, 1932 -- March 9, 2013
Long Beach
Harry Weathersby Stamps, ladies' man, foodie, natty dresser, and accomplished traveler, died on Saturday, March 9, 2013.
Harry was locally sourcing his food years before chefs in California starting using cilantro and arugula (both of which he hated). For his signature bacon and tomato sandwich, he procured 100% all white Bunny Bread from Georgia, Blue Plate mayonnaise from New Orleans, Sauer's black pepper from Virginia, home grown tomatoes from outside Oxford, and Tennessee's Benton bacon from his bacon-of-the-month subscription. As a point of pride, he purported to remember every meal he had eaten in his 80 years of life.
The women in his life were numerous. He particularly fancied smart women. He loved his mom Wilma Hartzog (deceased), who with the help of her sisters and cousins in New Hebron reared Harry after his father Walter's death when Harry was 12. He worshipped his older sister Lynn Stamps Garner (deceased), a character in her own right, and her daughter Lynda Lightsey of Hattiesburg. He married his main squeeze Ann Moore, a home economics teacher, almost 50 years ago, with whom they had two girls Amanda Lewis of Dallas, and Alison of Starkville. He taught them to fish, to select a quality hammer, to love nature, and to just be thankful. He took great pride in stocking their tool boxes. One of his regrets was not seeing his girl, Hillary Clinton, elected President.
He had a life-long love affair with deviled eggs, Lane cakes, boiled peanuts, Vienna [Vi-e-na] sausages on saltines, his homemade canned fig preserves, pork chops, turnip greens, and buttermilk served in martini glasses garnished with cornbread.
He excelled at growing camellias, rebuilding houses after hurricanes, rocking, eradicating mole crickets from his front yard, composting pine needles, living within his means, outsmarting squirrels, never losing a game of competitive sickness, and reading any history book he could get his hands on. He loved to use his oversized "old man" remote control, which thankfully survived Hurricane Katrina, to flip between watching The Barefoot Contessa and anything on The History Channel. He took extreme pride in his two grandchildren Harper Lewis {8} and William Stamps Lewis {6} of Dallas for whom he would crow like a rooster on their phone calls. As a former government and sociology professor for Gulf Coast Community College, Harry was thoroughly interested in politics and religion and enjoyed watching politicians act like preachers and preachers act like politicians. He was fond of saying a phrase he coined "I am not running for political office or trying to get married" when he was "speaking the truth." He also took pride in his service during the Korean conflict, serving the rank of corporal--just like Napolean, as he would say.
Harry took fashion cues from no one. His signature every day look was all his: a plain pocketed T-shirt designed by the fashion house Fruit of the Loom, his black-label elastic waist shorts worn above the navel and sold exclusively at the Sam's on Highway 49, and a pair of old school Wallabees (who can even remember where he got those?) that were always paired with a grass-stained MSU baseball cap.
Harry traveled extensively. He only stayed in the finest quality AAA-rated campgrounds, his favorite being Indian Creek outside Cherokee, North Carolina. He always spent the extra money to upgrade to a creek view for his tent. Many years later he purchased a used pop-up camper for his family to travel in style, which spoiled his daughters for life.
He despised phonies, his 1969 Volvo (which he also loved), know-it-all Yankees, Southerners who used the words "veranda" and "porte cochere" to put on airs, eating grape leaves, Law and Order (all franchises), cats, and Martha Stewart. In reverse order. He particularly hated Day Light Saving Time, which he referred to as The Devil's Time. It is not lost on his family that he died the very day that he would have had to spring his clock forward. This can only be viewed as his final protest.
Because of his irrational fear that his family would throw him a golf-themed funeral despite his hatred for the sport, his family will hold a private, family only service free of any type of "theme." Visitation will be held at Bradford-O'Keefe Funeral Home, 15th Street, Gulfport on Monday, March 11, 2013 from 6-8 p.m.
In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you make a donation to Mississippi Gulf Coast Community College (Jeff Davis Campus) for their library. Harry retired as Dean there and was very proud of his friends and the faculty. He taught thousands and thousands of Mississippians during his life. The family would also like to thank the Gulfport Railroad Center dialysis staff who took great care of him and his caretaker Jameka Stribling.
Finally, the family asks that in honor of Harry that you write your Congressman and ask for the repeal of Day Light Saving Time. Harry wanted everyone to get back on the Lord's Time.
very nice indeed.
Awesome!
Here's another entry in the "great obituary" contest
http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/savannah/obituary.aspx?pid=166950349#sthash.63twf5tQ.dpbs
QuoteWilliam Freddie McCullough - BLOOMINGDALE - The man. The myth. The legend. Men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him. William Freddie McCullough died on September 11, 2013.
Freddie loved deep fried Southern food smothered in Cane Syrup, fishing at Santee Cooper Lake, Little Debbie Cakes, Two and a Half Men, beautiful women, Reeses Cups and Jim Beam. Not necessarily in that order. He hated vegetables and hypocrites. Not necessarily in that order.
He was a master craftsman who single -handedly built his beautiful house from the ground up. Freddie was also great at growing fruit trees, grilling chicken and ribs, popping wheelies on his Harley at 50 mph, making everyone feel appreciated and hitting Coke bottles at thirty yards with his 45.
When it came to floor covering, Freddie was one of the best in the business. And he loved doing it.
Freddie loved to tell stories. And you could be sure 50% of every story was true. You just never knew which 50%. Marshall Matt Dillon, Ben Cartwright and Charlie Harper were his TV heroes. And he was the hero for his six children: Mark, Shain, Clint, Brandice, Ashley and Thomas.
Freddie adored the ladies. And they adored him. There isn't enough space here to list all of the women from Freddie's past. There isn't enough space in the Bloomingdale phone book. A few of the more colorful ones were Momma Margie, Crazy Pam, Big Tittie Wanda, Spacy Stacy and Sweet Melissa (he explained that nickname had nothing to do with her attitude). He attracted more women than a shoe sale at Macy's.
He got married when he was 18, but it didn't last. Freddie was no quitter, however, so he gave it a shot two more times. It didn't work out with any of the wives, but he managed to stay friends with them and their parents. In between his many adventures, Freddie appeared in several films including The Ordeal of Dr. Mudd, A Time for Miracles, The Conspirator, Double Wide Blues and Pretty Fishes.
When Freddie took off for that pool party in the sky, he left behind his sons Mark McCullough, Shain McCullough and his wife Amy, Clint McCullough and his wife Desiree, and Thomas McCullough and his wife Candice; and his daughters Brandice Chambers and her husband Michael, Ashley Cooler and her husband Justin; his brothers Jimmie and Eddie McCullough; and his girlfriend Lisa Hopkins; and seven delightful grandkids.
Freddie was killed when he rushed into a burning orphanage to save a group of adorable children. Or maybe not. We all know how he liked to tell stories. Savannah Morning News September 14, 2013
Ha. Love it.
Here he is:
(https://www.grogheads.com/forums/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fl1.yimg.com%2Fbt%2Fapi%2Fres%2F1.2%2F4Mu_he1oSNwQWD1pP8SSmw--%2FYXBwaWQ9eW5ld3M7cT04NTt3PTYzMA--%2Fhttp%3A%2F%2Fl.yimg.com%2Fos%2Fpublish-images%2Fnews%2F2013-09-18%2F1183191b-3167-4882-b182-c6b090b3ef37_freddie-mccullough.jpg&hash=48df6fda2110f56520b546a872f6e760cffda7da)
(https://www.grogheads.com/forums/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theblaze.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2013%2F09%2Fwilliam-freddie-mccullough_1.jpg&hash=82b0a2cae173438a1a4655178f9b1048c30f51b5)
Its an American Bawb!
That second photo looks like a hetero Gandalf.
Quote from: LongBlade on September 19, 2013, 05:33:21 PM
That second photo looks like a hetero Gandalf.
like Bob Gandalf has shunned the need for sexual gratification, and instead gets his jollies hanging around with small hairy men
Quote from: undercovergeek on September 19, 2013, 06:01:37 PM
Quote from: LongBlade on September 19, 2013, 05:33:21 PM
That second photo looks like a hetero Gandalf.
like Bob Gandalf has shunned the need for sexual gratification, and instead gets his jollies hanging around with small hairy men
I think we might be mixing up our Boomtown Rats with our G
ray Wizards...
Quote from: LongBlade on September 19, 2013, 05:33:21 PM
That second photo looks like a hetero Gandalf.
It does not get any better.
Another entry for a great obit.
QuoteI have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is, apparently, I'm dead. The good news is that if you're reading this, you are most definitely not (unless they have wifi in the afterlife). Yes, this sucks. It sucks beyond words, but I'm just so beyond grateful that I lived a life so full of love, joy and amazing friends. I've never written an obituary before, so bear with me...
I was born in West Allis, Wisconsin (Stallis!) on Nov. 30, 1979, to Roman and Carla Sikorski, wonderful people who raised me surrounded by unconditional love and unwavering support. I grew up and had a blast with my brother, Ryan Sikorski, and those memories were ones I always held close. He's an awesome dude. My amazing aunts and uncles, Lauree, Chuck, Don and Pat also made sure we weren't short on fond memories of childhood. After graduating from Milwaukee Pius XI in 1998, I moved to Madison to attend the UW, where my diploma tells me I earned a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and Sociology in between visits to State Street Brats and the Terrace. Most importantly, that was where I met the love of my life, Jeffrey McManamy, on a Badger Saturday and my life truly began.
Jeff and I were inseparable from the moment we met and every day was full of love and laughter. We moved to Jeff's hometown of McFarland and were married May 20, 2006. After years of fun, binge drinking, irresponsibility and countless awesome adventures, we welcomed our daughter, Brianna Noelle McManamy, into our family on April 22, 2011 (the happiest day of our lives). That is when the fun really began. I loved every second of being Bri's mommy and will love her with my whole heart and be proud of her for all eternity.
With my stage four cancer diagnosis in 2014, we made the decision to live life, rather than focus on the unfairness of the universe. And live, we did. I was unbelievably lucky to live life the way I did, in the moment and appreciating every day. I retired from my research specialist position at UW-Madison SMPH to focus on what's important in life: my family. And we created memories that are so incredible; I often have to pinch myself to make sure it was reality. My life was a dream and, despite cancer, often too good to be true. From our magical Disney trip to Mommy Mondays to our Badger Football excitement, to simply snuggling and having dance parties at home, every moment was cherished. I love nothing more than being Brianna's mommy. And I truly believe that the laughter and love we shared will live on forever. It's all still here. My love and support will embrace Brianna eternally and I will always, always be proud of her. Brianna, if you close your eyes, I will always be right by your side. I'll whisper I love you in the wind that blows your curls and as you keep moving on, my love for you will never die, it will always stay strong.
Most importantly, I was unbelievably lucky to spend over a decade with the love of my life and my best friend. True love and soulmates do exist. Every day was full of laughter and love with Jeff by my side. He is genuinely the best husband in the universe. Even on the worst days you could imagine, we found a way to laugh together. I love him more than life itself and I believe that a love like ours is so special it will live forever. Time is the most precious thing in this world and to have shared my life for so long with Jeff is something I am incredibly grateful for. I love you, Jeff. I believe that the awesomeness that is Brianna is our love brought to life, which is pretty beautiful. It absolutely breaks my heart to have to say goodbye. If it's half as sad for you as it is for me, it breaks my heart over again because the last thing I ever want to do is make you sad. I hope that with time, you can think of me and smile and laugh, because, wow, did we have a magnificent life. Go google Physicist's Eulogy and know that it is a scientific fact I will always be with you and Bri in some way.
I hate making people sad, so please don't think of me with pity or sadness. Smile, friends, knowing that we had a blast together and that time was amazing. Please laugh at the memories we made and the fun we had and tell Bri stories so she always knows how much I love her and how I wanted nothing more than to be here with her (and make me sound waaay cooler than I am please). And don't say I lost to cancer. Because cancer may have taken almost everything from me, but it never took my love or my hope or my joy. It wasn't a "battle" it was just life, which is often brutally and randomly unfair, and that's simply how it goes sometimes. I didn't lose. The way I lived for years with cancer is something I consider a pretty big victory.
I came to discover that as you age, your family includes all those you love and ours is far too extensive to list here. But, you know who you are. Thank you for making our life so full of happiness, hilarity and love. Next time you open a bottle of wine to soak in a sunset, please think of me and smile.
I want to especially thank Dr. Sanyal, Dr. MacKay, Dr. Moore, and the AMAZING team of nurses at Dean Oncology and Agrace Hospice. You were there on the worst days of my life and I couldn't have done this without you all. I was able to enjoy life knowing with full confidence that I was getting the best care possible and you were fighting for as much time as I could get with Bri and Jeff. Thank you for taking such great care of me while respecting our priorities.
I love you all, friends, and thank you for the most wonderfully awe-inspiring life. From the bottom of my heart, I wish you long, healthy lives and I hope you can experience the same appreciation for the gift of each day that I did. If you go to my funeral, please run up a bar tab that would make me proud. And there had better be a dance party at some point. Celebrate the beauty of life because you know that's what I want and I believe that in a weird way, I will be there too (you know how much I hate missing out on fun). Know that I want you to wear whatever makes you happy (yes, I mean those ridiculously cute shoes that you never have the occasion to wear). The service should be a celebration. I look forward to haunting each one of you, so this isn't so much a goodbye as it is see you later. And please remember to take a moment now and then during this crazy life to remind yourself that every day matters. And, lastly, a book: Cards for Brianna: A Lifetime of Lessons and Love From a Dying Mother to Her Daughter, written with multiple inspiration book author William Croyle. The timing couldn't have been crazier, but talk about an amazing alignment of the stars to have something so positive and fun to focus on.
A Celebration of Heather's Life will be held at OLBRICH BOTANICAL GARDENS, 3330 Atwood Ave, Madison, from 1:30 p.m. until 4:30 p.m. with a reading at 2 p.m., on Saturday, Dec. 19, 2015.
^ Yeah, that's a good one. It brought both a lump to my throat and a smile to my face.
We've got another entry...
http://obits.nola.com/obituaries/nola/obituary.aspx?n=william-ziegler&pid=181033700&
QuoteWilliam Ziegler escaped this mortal realm on Friday, July 29, 2016 at the age of 69. We think he did it on purpose to avoid having to make a decision in the pending presidential election. He leaves behind four children, five grand- children, and the potted meat industry, for which he was an unofficial spokesman until dietary restrictions forced him to eat real food. William volunteered for service in the United States Navy at the ripe old age of 17 and immediately realized he didn't much enjoy being bossed around. He only stuck it out for one war. Before his discharge, however, the government exchanged numerous ribbons and medals for various honorable acts. Upon his return to the City of New Orleans in 1971, thinking it best to keep an eye on him, government officials hired William as a fireman. After twenty-five years, he suddenly realized that running away from burning buildings made more sense than running toward them. He promptly retired. Looking back, William stated that there was no better group of morons and mental patients than those he had the privilege of serving with (except Bob, he never liked you, Bob). Following his wishes, there will not be a service, but well-wishers are encouraged to write a note of farewell on a Schaefer Light beer can and drink it in his honor. He was never one for sentiment or religiosity, but he wanted you to know that if he owes you a beer, and if you can find him in Heaven, he will gladly allow you to buy him another. He can likely be found forwarding tasteless internet jokes (check your spam folder, but don't open these at work). Expect to find an alcoholic dog named Judge passed out at his feet. Unlike previous times, this is not a ploy to avoid creditors or old girlfriends. He assures us that he is gone. He will be greatly missed.
Published in The Times-Picayune on Aug. 12, 2016
- See more at: http://obits.nola.com/obituaries/nola/obituary.aspx?n=william-ziegler&pid=181033700&#sthash.ztU786Ik.dpuf
Another great man gone. R.I.P. Bill. I'll have a beer for you Brother. O0
Quote from: undercovergeek on September 19, 2013, 06:01:37 PM
Quote from: LongBlade on September 19, 2013, 05:33:21 PM
That second photo looks like a hetero Gandalf.
like Bob Gandalf has shunned the need for sexual gratification, and instead gets his jollies hanging around with small hairy men
It's sad and strange that the women in his life all turned to drugs then suicide. :(
Another potential entry
http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/seacoastonline/obituary.aspx?n=chris-connors&pid=183074559
QuoteIrishman Dies from Stubbornness, Whiskey
Chris Connors died, at age 67, after trying to box his bikini-clad hospice nurse just moments earlier. Ladies man, game slayer, and outlaw Connors told his last inappropriate joke on Friday, December 9, 2016, that which cannot be printed here. Anyone else fighting ALS and stage 4 pancreatic cancer would have gone quietly into the night, but Connors was stark naked drinking Veuve in a house full of friends and family as Al Green played from the speakers. The way he died is just like he lived: he wrote his own rules, he fought authority and he paved his own way. And if you said he couldn't do it, he would make sure he could.
Most people thought he was crazy for swimming in the ocean in January; for being a skinny Irish Golden Gloves boxer from Quincy, Massachusetts; for dressing up as a priest and then proceeding to get into a fight at a Jewish deli. Many gawked at his start of a career on Wall Street without a financial background - but instead with an intelligent, impish smile, love for the spoken word, irreverent sense of humor, and stunning blue eyes that could make anyone fall in love with him.
As much as people knew hanging out with him would end in a night in jail or a killer screwdriver hangover, he was the type of man that people would drive 16 hours at the drop of a dime to come see. He lived 1000 years in the 67 calendar years we had with him because he attacked life; he grabbed it by the lapels, kissed it, and swung it back onto the dance floor. At the age of 26 he planned to circumnavigate the world - instead, he ended up spending 40 hours on a life raft off the coast of Panama. In 1974, he founded the Quincy Rugby Club. In his thirties, he sustained a knife wound after saving a woman from being mugged in New York City. He didn't slow down: at age 64, he climbed to the base camp of Mount Everest. Throughout his life, he was an accomplished hunter and birth control device tester (with some failures, notably Caitlin Connors, 33; Chris Connors, 11; and Liam Connors, 8 ).
He was a rare combination of someone who had a love of life and a firm understanding of what was important - the simplicity of living a life with those you love. Although he threw some of the most memorable parties during the greater half of a century, he would trade it all for a night in front of the fire with his family in Maine. His acute awareness of the importance of a life lived with the ones you love over any material possession was only handicapped by his territorial attachment to the remote control of his Sonos music.
Chris enjoyed cross dressing, a well-made fire, and mashed potatoes with lots of butter. His regrets were few, but include eating a rotisserie hot dog from an unmemorable convenience store in the summer of 1986.
Of all the people he touched, both willing and unwilling, his most proud achievement in life was marrying his wife Emily Ayer Connors who supported him in all his glory during his heyday, and lovingly supported him physically during their last days together.
Absolut vodka and Simply Orange companies are devastated by the loss of Connors. A "Celebration of Life" will be held during Happy Hour (4 p.m.) at York Harbor Inn on Monday, December 19.
In lieu of flowers, please pay open bar tab or donate to Connors' water safety fund at www.thechrisconnorsfund.com.
^ Awesome. O0
here's another
http://taskandpurpose.com/texas-man-dirtbag-family-died-got-revenge/
Quote"Leslie Ray 'Popeye' Charping was born in Galveston on November 20, 1942 and passed away January 30, 2017, which was 29 years longer than expected and much longer than he deserved. Leslie battled with cancer in his latter years and lost his battle, ultimately due to being the horses ass he was known for. He leaves behind 2 relieved children; ... along with six grandchildren and countless other victims including an ex wife, relatives, friends, neighbors, doctors, nurses and random strangers.
"At a young age, Leslie quickly became a model example of bad parenting combined with mental illness and a complete commitment to drinking, drugs, womanizing and being generally offensive. Leslie enlisted to serve in the Navy, but not so much in a brave & patriotic way but more as part of a plea deal to escape sentencing on criminal charges. While enlisted, Leslie was the Navy boxing champion and went on to sufficiently embarrass his family and country by spending the remainder of his service in the Balboa Mental Health Hospital receiving much needed mental healthcare services.
"Leslie was surprisingly intelligent, however he lacked ambition and motivation to do anything more than being reckless, wasteful, squandering the family savings and fantasizing about get rich quick schemes. Leslie's hobbies included being abusive to his family, expediting trips to heaven for the beloved family pets and fishing, which he was less skilled with than the previously mentioned. Leslie's life served no other obvious purpose, he did not contribute to society or serve his community and he possessed no redeeming qualities besides quick whited sarcasm which was amusing during his sober days.
"With Leslie's passing he will be missed only for what he never did; being a loving husband, father and good friend. No services will be held, there will be no prayers for eternal peace and no apologizes to the family he tortured. Leslie's remains will be cremated and kept in the barn until 'Ray,' the family donkey's wood shavings run out. Leslie's passing proves that evil does in fact die and hopefully marks a time of healing and safety for all."
Quote from: bayonetbrant on February 16, 2017, 08:55:56 AM
here's another
http://taskandpurpose.com/texas-man-dirtbag-family-died-got-revenge/
Quote"Leslie Ray 'Popeye' Charping was born in Galveston on November 20, 1942 and passed away January 30, 2017, which was 29 years longer than expected and much longer than he deserved. Leslie battled with cancer in his latter years and lost his battle, ultimately due to being the horses ass he was known for. He leaves behind 2 relieved children; ... along with six grandchildren and countless other victims including an ex wife, relatives, friends, neighbors, doctors, nurses and random strangers.
"At a young age, Leslie quickly became a model example of bad parenting combined with mental illness and a complete commitment to drinking, drugs, womanizing and being generally offensive. Leslie enlisted to serve in the Navy, but not so much in a brave & patriotic way but more as part of a plea deal to escape sentencing on criminal charges. While enlisted, Leslie was the Navy boxing champion and went on to sufficiently embarrass his family and country by spending the remainder of his service in the Balboa Mental Health Hospital receiving much needed mental healthcare services.
"Leslie was surprisingly intelligent, however he lacked ambition and motivation to do anything more than being reckless, wasteful, squandering the family savings and fantasizing about get rich quick schemes. Leslie's hobbies included being abusive to his family, expediting trips to heaven for the beloved family pets and fishing, which he was less skilled with than the previously mentioned. Leslie's life served no other obvious purpose, he did not contribute to society or serve his community and he possessed no redeeming qualities besides quick whited sarcasm which was amusing during his sober days.
"With Leslie's passing he will be missed only for what he never did; being a loving husband, father and good friend. No services will be held, there will be no prayers for eternal peace and no apologizes to the family he tortured. Leslie's remains will be cremated and kept in the barn until 'Ray,' the family donkey's wood shavings run out. Leslie's passing proves that evil does in fact die and hopefully marks a time of healing and safety for all."
There is a song about this guy:
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=bill+is+in+his+grave+mike+cross&qpvt=bill+is+in+his+grave+mike+cross&view=detail&mid=BDCFCB1BD8F9073FBF89BDCFCB1BD8F9073FBF89&FORM=VRDGAR
another entry for the "best obit" competition
http://www.geisenfuneralhome.com/obitlink?obit_id=2064544
QuoteTerry Wayne Ward, age 71, of DeMotte, IN, escaped this mortal realm on Tuesday, January 23rd, 2018, leaving behind 32 jars of Miracle Whip, 17 boxes of Hamburger Helper and multitudes of other random items that would prove helpful in the event of a zombie apocalypse.
Terry is survived by his overly-patient and accepting wife Kathy, who was the love of his life (a fact she gladly accepted sympathy for during their 48 years of marriage). He is also survived by daughters Rebecca (William) Hines and Jean (Jeff) Lahm; sister, Linda; brother, Phil; grandchildren: Alexander and Hannah Hines (The Mesopotamians), Daphne and Erin Pistello (The Daffer and Peanut), Brendan and Owen Lahm (Phineas and Ferb) and Tessa McMurry (Smiley).
He is preceded in death by his parents Paul and Bernice Ward, daughter Laura Pistello, grandson Vincent Pistello, brother Kenneth Ward, a 1972 Rambler and a hip.
Terry graduated from Thornridge High School in South Holland, IL, where only three of his teachers took an early retirement after having had him as a student. He met the love of his life, Kathy, by telling her he was a lineman – he didn't specify early on that he was a lineman for the phone company, not the NFL. Still, Kathy and Terry wed in the fall of 1969, perfectly between the Summer of Love and the Winter of Regret.
Terry volunteered his service in the United States Army and was an active combat Veteran in the Viet Nam War.
He retired from AT&T (formerly Ameritech, formerly formerly Indiana Bell) after 39 years of begrudging service, where he accumulated roughly 3,000 rolls of black electrical tape during the course of his career (which he used for everything from open wounds to "Don't use this button" covers).
He enjoyed many, many things. Among those things were hunting, fishing, golfing, snorkeling, ABBA, hiking Turkey Run, chopping wood, shooting guns, Bed Bath & Beyond, starlight mints, cold beer, free beer, The History Channel, CCR, war movies, discussing who makes the best pizza, The Chicago White Sox, old Buicks, and above all, his family.
He was a renowned distributor of popsicles and ice cream sandwiches to his grandchildren. He also turned on programs such as "Phineas and Ferb" for his grand-youngins, usually when they were actually there.
He despised "uppity foods" like hummus, which his family lovingly called "bean dip" for his benefit, which he loved consequently. He couldn't give a damn about most material things, and automobiles were never to be purchased new. He never owned a personal cell phone and he had zero working knowledge of the Kardashians.
Terry died knowing that The Blues Brothers was the best movie ever, (young) Clint Eastwood was the baddest-ass man on the planet, and hot sauce can be added to absolutely any food.
Tremendous and heartfelt thanks go to the truly exceptional nurses at Southlake Methodist Hospital Neuro-Intensive Care Unit, who provided much more than nursing care for Terry, but also provided a peaceful and compassionate environment during his transition from this life to the next.
Friends can visit with the family on Saturday, January 27, from Noon until the time of the Funeral Service at 4:00 PM, with Pastor Mark Wilkins officiating, at Geisen Funeral, Cremation & Receptions Centre, 606 E. 113th Ave., Crown Point, IN. Services will conclude at the funeral home.
Memorial donations in Terry's name can be made to your favorite charity or your favorite watering hole, where you are instructed to tie a few on and tell a few stories of the great Terry Ward.
Sounds like a life fully lived. :notworthy:
(https://publicradio1-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/newscut/files/2018/06/obit-630x553.jpg)
MEEOOWWW! That's catty.
So where was Dennis Dehmlow during all this motherless child rearing?