It's all relative

Entries: 3945    Updated: 2007-01-20 22:25:03 UTC (Sat)    Owner: sandy spidell

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  • ID: I0736
  • Name: Wayne Paul Boelling
  • Sex: M
  • Birth: 10 NOV 1908 in Corbug , IA 8 miles S. Red Oak
  • Death: 10 SEP 2002 in Shenandoah, IA
  • Change Date: 20 DEC 2002
  • Burial: 14 SEP 2002 Red Oak, IA
  • Reference Number: 83
  • Note: BIOGRAPHY Wayne was raised in Adams County, Iowa. He had 3 brothers and 2 sisters. They were Ernest A. (Ernie), Marjorie, Eugene (Gene), Paul, and Evangeline (Eva). After his marriage to Elma, they moved to Montgomery County, Iowa where Wayne worked as a blacksmith for eight years. In 1942 they moved to their home west of Red Oak Iowa, where he started working as a carpenter. He also raised a large garden every year, enjoyed camping and fishing. He also helped Grandma with the girl scouts. (Give him a lot of credit for that.) He worked very hard all his life he had the biggest home garden I have ever seen He bought all his seeds from the Earl May catalog. He spent time in the winter deciding which ones to buy and poured through that catalog many times. Nothing in the garden went to waste, what grandma couldn't preserve they would sell or send home with his children. He also had several apple trees out beyond the garden, and some raspberries too. One day Tim and I were trying to throw apples over the barn. It wasn't easy and very few went over. But one of the ones that did struck grandpa as he was entering the other side of the barn. He threatened to get the razor strap as he often did, but he never hit us with it. We only had to see it once to fear it. Just the mention of it would make us straighten up, if only briefly. We were always in trouble with him, and we deserved every punishment we got. Tim and I once threw 50 pounds of cracked corn out of the barrel in the shed, and onto the floor. We were using it to burry the dog. I got in the full barrel to throw out the corn and Tim heaped it on the dog. I had the barrel nearly empty, and was in it up to my armpits when the door flew open. There was Grandpa, and he was very angry. Tim squished out between Grandpa's legs and ran off, but I couldn't get out of the nearly empty barrel. I took the brunt of his wrath that day. I didn't think about it then but that must have been impossible to clean up. Grandpa had that shed absolutely full of cans of nails, and jars of bolts, and boxes of rocks. I'll bet for years after that every time he looked in a container he found cracked corn. Grandpa was also a rock hound. He collected rocks and polished many of them in his rock tumbler. He built the tumblers himself with small pulleys and wheels and a little motor. He would put the different rocks in a coffee can with different grades of sand and the machine would turn them for weeks in the wash house for weeks and months. Some of them he made into jewelry. I have that tumbler, and many Apache tears in different stages of polish. I also have a big box of fossils that since I was a kid I saw in the tool shed under the workbench. I don't know where they came from, but he kept them for so long, I feel obligated to keep them too. I used to sometimes watch Saturday morning cartoons in the living room. But Grandpa had a rule that we could not eat or drink in the living room. So we would go to the kitchen for breakfast or a snack. Every time we left the living room to go to the bathroom or eat when we would come back the TV would be shut off. Grandpa had shut it off to conserve electricity. I just couldn't figure out how he knew for that split second we had left. I swore he would know from the field or downtown and rush back just to shut it off. Grandpa and Grandma lived on the farm as long as I can remember. After Grandma died he lived there 16 years by himself. I worried about him. One day after a terrible storm went through here I watched the weather on TV and watched roll through Red Oak. The news man said a tornado hit just north of town by the air port. I knew it had to be close if not right on grandpa's house. I was really scared. So I called him. I asked if he was alright and if he went to the cellar. He said he was sitting in the chair in the living room, he didn't see the news but he heard a noise and went to the window. There was a grain bin rolling through the feild to the north of the house, it looked like a bad storm. He watched but didn't go to the cellar. I remember the last few years of his life he began to bend over, and he always used a cane. He had several canes, a house cane, and a good cane for going to town. One hung on the front rail of the porch, his outside cane. He continued to put in a garden every year, it got a little smaller, but he did it just the same. I asked him the last year how he got the seeds in and he told me he poked them in with his cane. He did the same with the tomato plants. In the Summer of 2002 I got a call from Mom while I was at work, it was a Sunday. She said Judy and Raymond had gone to mow Grandpa's yard and had found him fallen in the front yard. I left work and drove to Red Oak. The day had been hot, 103 degrees. He had fallen we guessed several hours before he was found. He had hit his head pretty hard and had a big scrape on his forehead, and one on his knee. When I saw him in the emergency room he spoke to me about being thirsty. He was really worn out, he had a hard time talking and didn't open his eyes. I spent all the time I could with him the next few months that he spent in the hospital. I would drive over in the evenings and if I didn't have to work I would spend the night and next day. Mom went for weeks at a time, and stayed at the farm. Grandpa slept allot, but every time he woke up he wanted to know where he was, and what happened to him. We would tell him he fell, to which he seemed surprised. We would tell him he hit his head, and he held it all the time. It pained him badly. He only complained about his head ache, never any thing else. He was a really good patient. He always asked if any one was watering his tomatoes, and the cows, and when could he go home. He never went home. They transferred him to the nursing home in Shenandoah, Iowa. I went there to see him a couple of times a week. He knew he wasn't going home and didn't ask any more. He passed away in his sleep.



    Father: Ardian Emil Arno Boelling b: 16 JUL 1882 in New Minden, Washington Co. IL
    Mother: Cressie May Ungry b: 9 MAY 1891 in Longton, Elk Co. KS

    Marriage 1 Elma Irene Jones b: 31 JUL 1907 in Grand River, IA area
    • Married: 6 OCT 1930
    Children
    1. Has No Children Living Boelling
    2. Has No Children Living Boelling
    3. Has No Children Living Boelling
    4. Has No Children Living Boelling
    5. Has Children Living Boelling
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