"EARTH HAS NO SORROWS THAT HEAVEN CANNOT HEAL."
This is my wonderful father. Everyday I miss him more because I was such a daddy's girl. He was the son of Harry Vincent Entwistle and Anna Frances Driscoll Entwistle. In 1940 he enlisted in the army, and served throughout World War II with the Army Corps of Engineers in the Pacific Theater. He always said about the song, "White Christmas" by Bing Crosby, "The first time I heard that song, I was sitting under a palm tree on a beach in New Guinea, and I cried." Thus, whenever I hear Bing's version at Christmas time, I always say, "Merry Christmas, Daddy" at the end of it. On 4 May 1942, he married Maxine Swift in Baltimore, Maryland. In 1947, he transferred into the Air Force, and served in various assignments, including Japan and Morocco. He ultimately attained the rank of Master Sergeant before he retired from the Air Force in 1961, and then he worked at Tinker AFB in cost accounting until his retirement, with nearly 50 years of federal service. He and Maxine had three children: Janet Lea, Gary Lynn, and Sharon Louise. He and Maxine were married for over 47 years until her sudden death on 1 August 1989 of a heart attack. Jimmie died only four months later of cancer. Life without her had become unbearable. He is loved and missed by his children and his grandchildren.
One of the things I miss the most about my dad are all the stories he used to tell. I used to call them "Daddy's Little Windows on the Past." He told wonderful stories about growing up in South Boston, about selling newspapers as a kid, about getting caught smoking by his dad but not getting into trouble because he got hit by a car. He also told great stories about his early days in the Army at Ft Belvoir and dating my mom. I have copies of two letters he sent her, and his stories about their courtship always made me think of a Clark Cable/Claudette Colbert movie. Dad was always making a noise--it was kind of a cross between a whistle and a hum. I always say that when I get to heaven, I'll hear my dad before I see him. He had a dry sense of humor that people didn't always get, but he had a heart of gold too. Once, dad's youngest sister, Aunt Mary, told me something about dad that just about made my heart burst with love and pride. She asked if dad had ever told me about selling newspapers as a kid. Of course, I said yes. "Well," she said, "I bet there's one thing he didn't tell you and that is that no matter how much money he made-35 cents or 35 dollars, he always put it under mom's pillow and when she went to bed, she always knew to reach under that pillow and there would be some money for her." (With 9 kids during the Depression, I bet that was wonderful to her.) he always spoke of his mother with such gentleness that I know he loved her dearly and missed her so much. There was a touch of the practical, too. He always knew what to do. If I lost my job, mom would likely say, "It's always darkest before the dawn," but dad would say, "Let's look in the want ads and get you that job." I miss him all the time.
~~ I Carry Your Heart with Me ~~
I wish Heaven had a phone so I could hear your voice again. I thought of you today, but that is nothing new. I thought about you yesterday, and the days before that too. I think of you in silence; I often speak your name. All I have are memories and a picture in a frame. Your memory is a keepsake, from which I'll never part.... God has you in His arms, I have you in my heart!
This is my wonderful father. Everyday I miss him more because I was such a daddy's girl. He was the son of Harry Vincent Entwistle and Anna Frances Driscoll Entwistle. In 1940 he enlisted in the army, and served throughout World War II with the Army Corps of Engineers in the Pacific Theater. He always said about the song, "White Christmas" by Bing Crosby, "The first time I heard that song, I was sitting under a palm tree on a beach in New Guinea, and I cried." Thus, whenever I hear Bing's version at Christmas time, I always say, "Merry Christmas, Daddy" at the end of it. On 4 May 1942, he married Maxine Swift in Baltimore, Maryland. In 1947, he transferred into the Air Force, and served in various assignments, including Japan and Morocco. He ultimately attained the rank of Master Sergeant before he retired from the Air Force in 1961, and then he worked at Tinker AFB in cost accounting until his retirement, with nearly 50 years of federal service. He and Maxine had three children: Janet Lea, Gary Lynn, and Sharon Louise. He and Maxine were married for over 47 years until her sudden death on 1 August 1989 of a heart attack. Jimmie died only four months later of cancer. Life without her had become unbearable. He is loved and missed by his children and his grandchildren.
One of the things I miss the most about my dad are all the stories he used to tell. I used to call them "Daddy's Little Windows on the Past." He told wonderful stories about growing up in South Boston, about selling newspapers as a kid, about getting caught smoking by his dad but not getting into trouble because he got hit by a car. He also told great stories about his early days in the Army at Ft Belvoir and dating my mom. I have copies of two letters he sent her, and his stories about their courtship always made me think of a Clark Cable/Claudette Colbert movie. Dad was always making a noise--it was kind of a cross between a whistle and a hum. I always say that when I get to heaven, I'll hear my dad before I see him. He had a dry sense of humor that people didn't always get, but he had a heart of gold too. Once, dad's youngest sister, Aunt Mary, told me something about dad that just about made my heart burst with love and pride. She asked if dad had ever told me about selling newspapers as a kid. Of course, I said yes. "Well," she said, "I bet there's one thing he didn't tell you and that is that no matter how much money he made-35 cents or 35 dollars, he always put it under mom's pillow and when she went to bed, she always knew to reach under that pillow and there would be some money for her." (With 9 kids during the Depression, I bet that was wonderful to her.) he always spoke of his mother with such gentleness that I know he loved her dearly and missed her so much. There was a touch of the practical, too. He always knew what to do. If I lost my job, mom would likely say, "It's always darkest before the dawn," but dad would say, "Let's look in the want ads and get you that job." I miss him all the time.
~~ I Carry Your Heart with Me ~~
I wish Heaven had a phone so I could hear your voice again. I thought of you today, but that is nothing new. I thought about you yesterday, and the days before that too. I think of you in silence; I often speak your name. All I have are memories and a picture in a frame. Your memory is a keepsake, from which I'll never part.... God has you in His arms, I have you in my heart!
"EARTH HAS NO SORROWS THAT HEAVEN CANNOT HEAL."
This is my wonderful father. Everyday I miss him more because I was such a daddy's girl. He was the son of Harry Vincent Entwistle and Anna Frances Driscoll Entwistle. In 1940 he enlisted in the army, and served throughout World War II with the Army Corps of Engineers in the Pacific Theater. He always said about the song, "White Christmas" by Bing Crosby, "The first time I heard that song, I was sitting under a palm tree on a beach in New Guinea, and I cried." Thus, whenever I hear Bing's version at Christmas time, I always say, "Merry Christmas, Daddy" at the end of it. On 4 May 1942, he married Maxine Swift in Baltimore, Maryland. In 1947, he transferred into the Air Force, and served in various assignments, including Japan and Morocco. He ultimately attained the rank of Master Sergeant before he retired from the Air Force in 1961, and then he worked at Tinker AFB in cost accounting until his retirement, with nearly 50 years of federal service. He and Maxine had three children: Janet Lea, Gary Lynn, and Sharon Louise. He and Maxine were married for over 47 years until her sudden death on 1 August 1989 of a heart attack. Jimmie died only four months later of cancer. Life without her had become unbearable. He is loved and missed by his children and his grandchildren.
One of the things I miss the most about my dad are all the stories he used to tell. I used to call them "Daddy's Little Windows on the Past." He told wonderful stories about growing up in South Boston, about selling newspapers as a kid, about getting caught smoking by his dad but not getting into trouble because he got hit by a car. He also told great stories about his early days in the Army at Ft Belvoir and dating my mom. I have copies of two letters he sent her, and his stories about their courtship always made me think of a Clark Cable/Claudette Colbert movie. Dad was always making a noise--it was kind of a cross between a whistle and a hum. I always say that when I get to heaven, I'll hear my dad before I see him. He had a dry sense of humor that people didn't always get, but he had a heart of gold too. Once, dad's youngest sister, Aunt Mary, told me something about dad that just about made my heart burst with love and pride. She asked if dad had ever told me about selling newspapers as a kid. Of course, I said yes. "Well," she said, "I bet there's one thing he didn't tell you and that is that no matter how much money he made-35 cents or 35 dollars, he always put it under mom's pillow and when she went to bed, she always knew to reach under that pillow and there would be some money for her." (With 9 kids during the Depression, I bet that was wonderful to her.) he always spoke of his mother with such gentleness that I know he loved her dearly and missed her so much. There was a touch of the practical, too. He always knew what to do. If I lost my job, mom would likely say, "It's always darkest before the dawn," but dad would say, "Let's look in the want ads and get you that job." I miss him all the time.
~~ I Carry Your Heart with Me ~~
I wish Heaven had a phone so I could hear your voice again. I thought of you today, but that is nothing new. I thought about you yesterday, and the days before that too. I think of you in silence; I often speak your name. All I have are memories and a picture in a frame. Your memory is a keepsake, from which I'll never part.... God has you in His arms, I have you in my heart!
This is my wonderful father. Everyday I miss him more because I was such a daddy's girl. He was the son of Harry Vincent Entwistle and Anna Frances Driscoll Entwistle. In 1940 he enlisted in the army, and served throughout World War II with the Army Corps of Engineers in the Pacific Theater. He always said about the song, "White Christmas" by Bing Crosby, "The first time I heard that song, I was sitting under a palm tree on a beach in New Guinea, and I cried." Thus, whenever I hear Bing's version at Christmas time, I always say, "Merry Christmas, Daddy" at the end of it. On 4 May 1942, he married Maxine Swift in Baltimore, Maryland. In 1947, he transferred into the Air Force, and served in various assignments, including Japan and Morocco. He ultimately attained the rank of Master Sergeant before he retired from the Air Force in 1961, and then he worked at Tinker AFB in cost accounting until his retirement, with nearly 50 years of federal service. He and Maxine had three children: Janet Lea, Gary Lynn, and Sharon Louise. He and Maxine were married for over 47 years until her sudden death on 1 August 1989 of a heart attack. Jimmie died only four months later of cancer. Life without her had become unbearable. He is loved and missed by his children and his grandchildren.
One of the things I miss the most about my dad are all the stories he used to tell. I used to call them "Daddy's Little Windows on the Past." He told wonderful stories about growing up in South Boston, about selling newspapers as a kid, about getting caught smoking by his dad but not getting into trouble because he got hit by a car. He also told great stories about his early days in the Army at Ft Belvoir and dating my mom. I have copies of two letters he sent her, and his stories about their courtship always made me think of a Clark Cable/Claudette Colbert movie. Dad was always making a noise--it was kind of a cross between a whistle and a hum. I always say that when I get to heaven, I'll hear my dad before I see him. He had a dry sense of humor that people didn't always get, but he had a heart of gold too. Once, dad's youngest sister, Aunt Mary, told me something about dad that just about made my heart burst with love and pride. She asked if dad had ever told me about selling newspapers as a kid. Of course, I said yes. "Well," she said, "I bet there's one thing he didn't tell you and that is that no matter how much money he made-35 cents or 35 dollars, he always put it under mom's pillow and when she went to bed, she always knew to reach under that pillow and there would be some money for her." (With 9 kids during the Depression, I bet that was wonderful to her.) he always spoke of his mother with such gentleness that I know he loved her dearly and missed her so much. There was a touch of the practical, too. He always knew what to do. If I lost my job, mom would likely say, "It's always darkest before the dawn," but dad would say, "Let's look in the want ads and get you that job." I miss him all the time.
~~ I Carry Your Heart with Me ~~
I wish Heaven had a phone so I could hear your voice again. I thought of you today, but that is nothing new. I thought about you yesterday, and the days before that too. I think of you in silence; I often speak your name. All I have are memories and a picture in a frame. Your memory is a keepsake, from which I'll never part.... God has you in His arms, I have you in my heart!
