Tag Archives: Lorin

Grandpa Lorin, ‘Papa’

23 Aug. 2015

23 Aug. 2015

23 Aug. 2015. Sarah, Squeak, Papa.

23 Aug. 2015. Sarah, Squeak, Papa.

This post will be a collection of photos, texts, videos, etc., of my grandpa Lorin, who died last week.

Here’s his obit:

Stillman Valley, IL, Lorin H. Larson, age 90, died Tuesday, October 18, 2016, at home, surrounded by family. Lorin was born September 22, 1926, in Rockford, IL, the son of Herbert and Edna (Paulson) Larson. He attended P.A. Peterson Grade School where he set a record for the 40-yard dash that was not broken for many years. He graduated from East High School in 1944, the first class to go all four years there. He enlisted in the Navy after graduation and was sent to the Philippines where he served as a Petty Officer. Lorin married Phoebe Gibson on February 21, 1948, and they had five children. Meanwhile he went to Stout Institute in Menomonie, WI, for three years. In 1952, they moved to Rockford where he worked in construction: at Security Building, National Mirror Works, and then with Stenstrom Construction as a superintendent. In 1964, they moved to small dairy farm near Stillman Valley, and he started his own business, Lorin H. Larson, General Contractor. He retired from a position with Norandex Aluminum Company.
Lorin was a charter member of Alpine Lutheran Church. He had many interests: singing with a barbershop quartet and in choirs for Methodist churches in Rockford, the Congregational Church in Stillman Valley, and the Unity Church in Rockford; league bowling for many years, and for a few years, proudly bowling on a team with his three sons; coaching a Little League team; being a Boy Scout leader; gardening; Lions Club, constantly remodeling his house; doing almost anything that could be done from the seat of a tractor; and his dogs. Lorin built a pop-up camper in the early 1960s and took his family on several camping trips, frequently to parks in Wisconsin and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and one memorable trip around Lake Superior.His signature characteristic was probably his corny sense of humor. If given the slightest chance to make a pun, good or bad, he took it with gusto. He thrived on having an audience and loved being around people.
“Papa” was preceded in death by his mother, father, and stepmother Margaret (Hedeen) Larson, and son-in-law Jim Rackley. He is survived and deeply missed by his wife and his sister Mary (Dale) Peterson, Bloomington, MN; and children: Sherry (Bob) Piros, Chana, IL; Christine (Joe Stemke) Rackley, Masonville, NY; Larry (Marcia) Larson, Lucky (Diane) Larson, Bruce (Carolyn) Larson, all of Stillman Valley, IL; and George (Heidi) Gonzalez, Rockford, IL; sixteen grandchildren, eight great grandchildren, and one great great grandchild.
A Celebration of Life will be held in Christ Church Unity, 4381 Manchester Dr, Rockford, IL, on Saturday, October 22, 2016. Service at 11:00 with visitation one hour prior. Memorials to be determined.

More to come.

‘Everything’s true except for the monkey’: My week in review

Things I heard this week included this:

and all of this:

That’s rough, dude, [to have to] sit in silence all day,” said a young woman, perhaps a Jimmy John’s employee at another store, to a man working at a Jimmy John’s where there was no music being played due to lack of working speakers. [13 Sept.]

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I heard a weird crashy, screechy sound coming from a group of trees as my dog and I walked past. “According to my imagination, it was a cougar,” I told my wife later. [13 Sept.]

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My dog retrieves a stick as he swims in my family's farm pond this week. Once he returns to shore, he whines until I throw another stick.

My dog retrieves a stick as he swims in my family’s farm pond this week. Once he returns to shore, he whines until I throw another stick.

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Publishing, being An Author, as what James Carse described as a “finite game” — something where there are winners who play within the established rules, with their winning acknowledged by material gain, but not an “infinite game” of making up new rules. [14 Sept.]

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“It’s something that’s cooler than your life so you read it,” said my student of fiction. I answered that I like my life better than fiction because my life is already cool. [14 Sept.]

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“Holy nice outside,” said senior girl on leaving the high school building on 14 Sept.

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Light reflects from a stone wall onto the water.

Light reflects from a stone wall onto the water.

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After we watched the end of the 1992 movie “Of Mice and Men,” a student of mine said, of George shooting Lennie: “in the book, it was way slower.” [14 Sept.]

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My grandmother Phoebe told how she found out that she couldn’t keep the pet skunk she had rescued after its mother died, but she could pay 10 dollars and a petting zoo would take it. Phoebe said she was sad to lose the little fellow, who never even emitted any scent. My grandfather Lorin punned, “He made no scents but you had to pay 10 bucks.” [14 Sept.]

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I’ve got opinions on many things but nobody’s asking me to give my opinions, and that’s probably a good thing. [15 Sept.]

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Doing things (including writing these notes) for posterity versus writing them for now: posterity lasts longer but is never actually here the way now is. [15 Sept.]

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Meditation as merely an adult’s form of self-comfort (like maybe sucking their thumbs are for babies)? Maybe I’m just trying to feel better in the moment by letting go of my worries? [15 Sept.]

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“I really do have gorgeous children. They’re gorgeous,” said my wife’s friend on 16 Sept.

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“63’s not old,” said a 77-year-old. [16 Sept.]

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“I’ve got a lot of practice taking annoying sh!t away from kids,” said a friend after he took a song-playing birthday card away from a child who kept opening it. [16 Sept.]

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After I showed my students this blog, one seemed sincerely impressed. She said I could host ads here and make money and “you could leave this school — you could DO something with your life!” I shared this quote with a colleague who reacted with, “Shots fired!” [17 Sept.]

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Backlit weed seeds.

Backlit weed seeds.

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“Everything’s pretty much true in there, except for the monkey,” said a student to me about her fiction story that included a monkey passed out from drinking Jack in her grandma’s bedroom closet. [17 Sept.]

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