tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5263164099464684922024-02-18T18:17:50.391-08:00Kenneth C. SchwinnSheryl Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922617648047107744noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-526316409946468492.post-53533052003979582882012-05-20T06:28:00.001-07:002012-05-20T06:42:03.021-07:00Home<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Kenneth was adamant that he did not want funeral services. There will be no graveside services. I know there are many that would like to celebrate his life, find closure in his death, and remember him reverently. As a gift to family and friends I offer this site. Here we will gather stories, and pictures. We will share our love for him and find a smile once again in our memories.</div>
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Obituary:</div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><i>Kenneth Creg Schwinn of Murray, Utah passed away on Sunday, April 29, 2012. Kenneth was born on June 25, 1952 as the son of Sherman Howard Schwinn and Barbara Hyde Schwinn. Born in Salt Lake City, he was the fifth of five children. He married Carol Dimond on August 28, 1971, (Later divorced). They had one daughter. Kenneth was a talented artist, working in drawing, painting, sculpting, models and plaster casting. He was an expert in fiberglass. Kenneth’s love of life and his good natured, humorous disposition endeared him to many people. His child-like sense of wonder and imagination was infectious. Our loving father, grandfather, brother, uncle, and friend will be missed and we are grateful for the joy he brought into our lives. Kenneth is survived by his 4 grandchildren and daughter Sheryl (Ben), his siblings Robert Schwinn (Ann), Betty Walters (Ken), Sharleen Morgan (Bob), and Connie Barney (Lloyd). He is preceded in death by his parents. Our family expresses their gratitude to all of those who have supported Kenneth in his lifetime and have provided compassionate service at his passing. Special thanks to Beverly, Peggy, Stephanie & Dez. Kenneth has requested no services. You may view a memorial blog for him at www.KennethSchwinn.blogspot.com</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><i><a href="http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/deseretnews/obituary.aspx?n=kenneth-schwinn&pid=157393455">You can view the actual online obituary here.</a> He would have loved that they put him born in 1971.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 19px;"><i><a href="http://kennethschwinn.blogspot.com/2012/05/guest-book-entries-for-kenneth-c.html" target="_blank">View Guest Book entries Here.</a></i></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://kennethschwinn.blogspot.com/2012/04/kimberly-czars-eulogy.html"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacX1Hm31Ls55WE4vv1scsqeuk5dHdTNMjURql4PmplTRiMythglzXtwveV7GSHat23vUcUBYSz5z_u1AJgi75m2f80oT83GorUthQlBorlQSuGaNKcvUr9EEhmlKEoIEeb7oQzSXHp5A/s640/kim-eulogy.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://kennethschwinn.blogspot.com/2012/04/shawnas-eulogy_30.html"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IOra44IMbjZUJ8YoW-l74aIqVgOjOlCLXbjRYd_Yx5jd8UbuFyFYB0-FtehVaTMCcmiGAqmp9ZgsL0q_PR9fw5N1fqzTnXob0F9tR5Jqrn_-vJaW3CkQE2roj1WIhd0xOEBLl1pr1qA/s640/Shawna-Eulogy.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://kennethschwinn.blogspot.com/2012/05/rob-cosaert-memories.html"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge2YO8NH9xeq_GVanHF4PYZ9d5o7crzbQ5qdCRfLhqeO9gxDFUrs42tN5x8jqLgh8XH8VgTQrPvpK3YOtcNRdCYEnC5ygxXbXE12zz1EWcWzW2VvuwknVnO3nwjmlpl9eIinlbxgfyoM8/s640/Rob-C-Eulogy.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">We are gathering pictures and stories of Kenneth. You may contact me, his daughter Sheryl, at sherylcantoo@yahoo.com. If you comment about a picture please tell us the picture number. If you'd like to download a picture, left click it to enlarge and right click to "Save Image As..."</span></div>
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Picture 1</div>
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Picture 3</div>
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Picture 4</div>
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Picture 6</div>
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Picture 7</div>
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Picture 8</div>
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Picture 9</div>
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Picture 10</div>
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Picture 11</div>
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Picture 12</div>
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Picture 13</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvJESYytBSnCWsAADkxcRAQGeIeRXPNE4LNZp3tL7Thrv1Zjt235nEnEJ2ZrGsjKX2Mu8xKXBN7PmyzfYg_kg6EveiuJ8EqSCdr35-gn3xhgHZkrJftQk72K_RoixjAsPaCWI-s6552M/s1600/Barbara+Jane+Hyde+Schwinn+&+Kenneth+C+Schwinn2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvJESYytBSnCWsAADkxcRAQGeIeRXPNE4LNZp3tL7Thrv1Zjt235nEnEJ2ZrGsjKX2Mu8xKXBN7PmyzfYg_kg6EveiuJ8EqSCdr35-gn3xhgHZkrJftQk72K_RoixjAsPaCWI-s6552M/s400/Barbara+Jane+Hyde+Schwinn+&+Kenneth+C+Schwinn2.jpg" width="388" /></a></td>
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Picture 14</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Jqa6jPgWk2V2k5-_WOXnlmuxJ_nJgIf9GB5neMetU9nMNoY_4Mkg4uUY8CU15GJF0ykyfMcRZtlES-V1UKMCt_3Rm7sGhFhZriQX01VLVHquktRuAi0QaMDF0_75PS8CgQen0WqAhZA/s1600/Barbara+Jane+Hyde+Schwinn+&+Kenneth+C+Schwinn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Jqa6jPgWk2V2k5-_WOXnlmuxJ_nJgIf9GB5neMetU9nMNoY_4Mkg4uUY8CU15GJF0ykyfMcRZtlES-V1UKMCt_3Rm7sGhFhZriQX01VLVHquktRuAi0QaMDF0_75PS8CgQen0WqAhZA/s400/Barbara+Jane+Hyde+Schwinn+&+Kenneth+C+Schwinn.jpg" width="388" /></a></td>
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Picture 15</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcrNQlBnmmuF6U1zm2YqFJTxg-vEQf3Vi05LoUTvArzLblL8DHJm3KgX5Xv2ofwlRSud_izESfDop5s1d6CyBNW3mlMTfOTEd5zQgs_-fgfpI6XKyl9g2GGTveFrO6_qrw7m8WKzqleOk/s1600/Dennis+Hardy+Kenneth+C+Schwinn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcrNQlBnmmuF6U1zm2YqFJTxg-vEQf3Vi05LoUTvArzLblL8DHJm3KgX5Xv2ofwlRSud_izESfDop5s1d6CyBNW3mlMTfOTEd5zQgs_-fgfpI6XKyl9g2GGTveFrO6_qrw7m8WKzqleOk/s400/Dennis+Hardy+Kenneth+C+Schwinn.jpg" width="400" /></a></td>
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Picture 16</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipxutGBVIs7MXSdSHaRO2LSVXAXOUXLfCnJeVh1S4nYeUTr03Jxb6hqjGWbuFtpTFe__OXFuECglPGOzQehaiWEl_Vdypnve0LpIkEfVmu8EJb1E8Wf5p5FWa1mDFcYK0-u5_bydpAW5Y/s1600/Kenneth+C+Schwinn+Dennis+Hardy1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipxutGBVIs7MXSdSHaRO2LSVXAXOUXLfCnJeVh1S4nYeUTr03Jxb6hqjGWbuFtpTFe__OXFuECglPGOzQehaiWEl_Vdypnve0LpIkEfVmu8EJb1E8Wf5p5FWa1mDFcYK0-u5_bydpAW5Y/s400/Kenneth+C+Schwinn+Dennis+Hardy1.jpg" width="302" /></a></td>
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Picture 17</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN7WovHPAcqHIJqGahHqct9UrSIRAqBIOtLekASRwnAKkRjWoGJUKKZkC2rOvhr7fIS7EyU3ohDrZhI44W9dv93iV7L3xDB8tf7aVanRkZ4T1MkJNsNY8PltQvsxXXorCSjNSp1x8XUF8/s1600/Kenneth+Schwinn4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN7WovHPAcqHIJqGahHqct9UrSIRAqBIOtLekASRwnAKkRjWoGJUKKZkC2rOvhr7fIS7EyU3ohDrZhI44W9dv93iV7L3xDB8tf7aVanRkZ4T1MkJNsNY8PltQvsxXXorCSjNSp1x8XUF8/s400/Kenneth+Schwinn4.jpg" width="368" /></a> </td>
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Picture 18</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQhXOcR4aiKN-85-vLAbkoC1e6cBVM5IPIsg_V0frVhufd7IMIvbB6awNvZ0kjlAJPfyBRN5b_JSOlBPBVL7H8PNq2YeVJugyCugckvxHFw0XyOTk1oaTb0heIJx6gP0Dpg-Yex4il4A/s1600/Kenneth+Schwinn5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQhXOcR4aiKN-85-vLAbkoC1e6cBVM5IPIsg_V0frVhufd7IMIvbB6awNvZ0kjlAJPfyBRN5b_JSOlBPBVL7H8PNq2YeVJugyCugckvxHFw0XyOTk1oaTb0heIJx6gP0Dpg-Yex4il4A/s400/Kenneth+Schwinn5.jpg" width="334" /></a> </td>
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Picture 19</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqsQXeNse6M69-BMHeq3PusNliT4dKYr1Rg5vgmZmJxwOoS6ras5PazFy06MYOzSm0rWx2M_9N-fKFhDVpPlmQBxXCFWeWCBK0DTxdxokGR0-MkSakL6pgxjt28HE_Ch252O4RYyVcr4/s1600/Barbara+jane+Hyde+Schwinn+Baby+Randy+Walters+Kenneth+Schwinn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqsQXeNse6M69-BMHeq3PusNliT4dKYr1Rg5vgmZmJxwOoS6ras5PazFy06MYOzSm0rWx2M_9N-fKFhDVpPlmQBxXCFWeWCBK0DTxdxokGR0-MkSakL6pgxjt28HE_Ch252O4RYyVcr4/s400/Barbara+jane+Hyde+Schwinn+Baby+Randy+Walters+Kenneth+Schwinn.jpg" width="384" /></a> </td>
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Picture 20</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjV2ThSbIGAonayq_HVh_7aEnhv2IieFRcZqpHSgT0Tw0c1r9btyfzt46C1O1EAVdW7LvGrq37KMev19R5ycSM4DA8G2_RSoCxC9eKCyYqOS2KGLHalmJRjNKE0qRwE-mzfdPtXxjUDU0/s1600/Bob+Schwinn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjV2ThSbIGAonayq_HVh_7aEnhv2IieFRcZqpHSgT0Tw0c1r9btyfzt46C1O1EAVdW7LvGrq37KMev19R5ycSM4DA8G2_RSoCxC9eKCyYqOS2KGLHalmJRjNKE0qRwE-mzfdPtXxjUDU0/s400/Bob+Schwinn.jpg" width="208" /></a></div>
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Picture 21</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHaVQrDDiT-S1ZS-MP23mGmR9_a51bp8DC4kxZZJm2vTbAHIkZp7gZCChFWVQbHOkO2mp259KBWCzKqoCb9Qf1RW0_IfmauJdxjkXDxrRSJXnrcSuFEBLPeAWWVOg9pR0NIO_At_6dXbg/s1600/Kenneth+C+Schwinn+Child2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHaVQrDDiT-S1ZS-MP23mGmR9_a51bp8DC4kxZZJm2vTbAHIkZp7gZCChFWVQbHOkO2mp259KBWCzKqoCb9Qf1RW0_IfmauJdxjkXDxrRSJXnrcSuFEBLPeAWWVOg9pR0NIO_At_6dXbg/s400/Kenneth+C+Schwinn+Child2.jpg" width="400" /></a> </div>
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Picture 22</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioW117wrrn6kpsRB7399lBhZzQQfRefN7QH-rWYRf1Gyho5leapcTsALrNlc1chyJDsZ22iN_FHi5vYJ1Ng6qTEe-Lkk1M2ioixtcoqhecWGxeVuMwLQ2hBNa2QtgeapaKS_sIyg0D94w/s1600/Kenneth+C+Schwinn-+Dennis+Hardy-+Dec+1960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioW117wrrn6kpsRB7399lBhZzQQfRefN7QH-rWYRf1Gyho5leapcTsALrNlc1chyJDsZ22iN_FHi5vYJ1Ng6qTEe-Lkk1M2ioixtcoqhecWGxeVuMwLQ2hBNa2QtgeapaKS_sIyg0D94w/s400/Kenneth+C+Schwinn-+Dennis+Hardy-+Dec+1960.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span> </td>
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Picture 23</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZI7uzo6nFIHBPD7wb-xnqT_1vVMQ8zDkMV5eTc6ji0EJG-YP9U9lMkDRra9qVfG0SOx-uuqR1LtEQbBqW5fFetoIXN8I_92DPm6DdejHw7RWJFgq-s6m4iv-TPAXxCG_tan54lh4Lm7s/s1600/Kenneth+C+Schwinn+holding+Alvin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZI7uzo6nFIHBPD7wb-xnqT_1vVMQ8zDkMV5eTc6ji0EJG-YP9U9lMkDRra9qVfG0SOx-uuqR1LtEQbBqW5fFetoIXN8I_92DPm6DdejHw7RWJFgq-s6m4iv-TPAXxCG_tan54lh4Lm7s/s400/Kenneth+C+Schwinn+holding+Alvin.jpg" width="400" /></a> </td>
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Picture 24</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5n_rhyN3pZiwtQotzMSFETMI-hezUG-b5r0M2uue29qvWqy1ryMl-i2gJUcfw9giNZt4k7ZOs_DwfnUYx5kXqvsrCPF-mMtmOO4CvZcroMPJDj9qMuNhWcNnh8VLP61Rb_mXbd5ZydfM/s1600/Kenneth+C+Schwinn+holding+Alvin2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5n_rhyN3pZiwtQotzMSFETMI-hezUG-b5r0M2uue29qvWqy1ryMl-i2gJUcfw9giNZt4k7ZOs_DwfnUYx5kXqvsrCPF-mMtmOO4CvZcroMPJDj9qMuNhWcNnh8VLP61Rb_mXbd5ZydfM/s400/Kenneth+C+Schwinn+holding+Alvin2.jpg" width="148" /></a> </td>
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Picture 25</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6z967COvUZiV_BLxOozzaHhJllwZn_6SW_93ByoieGvTT4vg44v1918BxpzKn6jKXA55VVk6DnY_hFDysYks0UJvFbgi0RNtghZY50u-vng2FeikmFvFjS0gEurZ9edoxzMmu5bc9vA/s1600/Gus+Panos-Kenneth+C+Schwinn-Dennis+Hardy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6z967COvUZiV_BLxOozzaHhJllwZn_6SW_93ByoieGvTT4vg44v1918BxpzKn6jKXA55VVk6DnY_hFDysYks0UJvFbgi0RNtghZY50u-vng2FeikmFvFjS0gEurZ9edoxzMmu5bc9vA/s400/Gus+Panos-Kenneth+C+Schwinn-Dennis+Hardy.jpg" width="400" /></a> </td>
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Picture 26</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0V6A0RWAdISG1pUHWtCQjcr7ISttoOXncAysc6o0u12E-kcxQ0xkPobGEGjDu5Pt-Z1l4lCH9Z-l-f7ptiYviYf9SYuL3Q6xN56-SSZC5bGUqzhefr29QYdY3S-TZXmBVdSiDE793Ft0/s1600/Kenneth+Schwinn+Dennis+Hardy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0V6A0RWAdISG1pUHWtCQjcr7ISttoOXncAysc6o0u12E-kcxQ0xkPobGEGjDu5Pt-Z1l4lCH9Z-l-f7ptiYviYf9SYuL3Q6xN56-SSZC5bGUqzhefr29QYdY3S-TZXmBVdSiDE793Ft0/s400/Kenneth+Schwinn+Dennis+Hardy.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span> </td>
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Picture 27</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0yaedj_ZEmPxlmPMsEAQjAKH0PwBtU-L5vOr8QESvPBYv0LYN7r8P51KX_obV7OlSR3xDj-xtdcEXNDe49oIfBG6oZaGhiuPGZc0RfCyL6g-mgj5J1DOZ9lABiG0Cso2p5_11IEXd84/s1600/Kenneth+C+Schwinn+in+Grandma's+bunk+house-Kamas+Utah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0yaedj_ZEmPxlmPMsEAQjAKH0PwBtU-L5vOr8QESvPBYv0LYN7r8P51KX_obV7OlSR3xDj-xtdcEXNDe49oIfBG6oZaGhiuPGZc0RfCyL6g-mgj5J1DOZ9lABiG0Cso2p5_11IEXd84/s400/Kenneth+C+Schwinn+in+Grandma's+bunk+house-Kamas+Utah.jpg" width="264" /></a> </td>
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Picture 28</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_qkuGka92Ls1UdiD856LmRNQhHQmTaryrG3kZHbfzEzBY_PLXpl0aAI-Sf3dsKqmnAYUTT5QPAMQOFU1miGXidmV4Rb53xdZAEUznepjJGI7UyxyvB3-Wvw9V_LulSivkN-3GAbHmHw/s1600/Kenneth+Schwinn6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_qkuGka92Ls1UdiD856LmRNQhHQmTaryrG3kZHbfzEzBY_PLXpl0aAI-Sf3dsKqmnAYUTT5QPAMQOFU1miGXidmV4Rb53xdZAEUznepjJGI7UyxyvB3-Wvw9V_LulSivkN-3GAbHmHw/s400/Kenneth+Schwinn6.jpg" width="280" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span> </td>
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Picture 29</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH98phKlXb0-ZBfOUEsD4sUPNxiirUsuCSpSOewHXH87hR1kDYYi_qVESmsiMz4POHMYxFFhaduSz-TijJUmG9lzp4ciOaMzeU61yxFKuqn0-rLOF6uGD5kt4Qt8y8XVeWYfIb9Pa2Uh0/s1600/Dennis+and+Ken+in+costume.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH98phKlXb0-ZBfOUEsD4sUPNxiirUsuCSpSOewHXH87hR1kDYYi_qVESmsiMz4POHMYxFFhaduSz-TijJUmG9lzp4ciOaMzeU61yxFKuqn0-rLOF6uGD5kt4Qt8y8XVeWYfIb9Pa2Uh0/s400/Dennis+and+Ken+in+costume.jpg" width="288" /></a> </td>
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Picture 30</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynzIxpQZzh0Q5ksFc9F7tOkrZlMbJW5uKgQvbcoQC08jzrD3zHKZ5g2fs6kRoPWIcpAiEWIyU9nWboISvcn9ncwGhSefIzL3h52OACeSx4pFnhU47GClsEUGDx0JBVtGUYruhP4CPO-E/s1600/ken+teen+on+horse+1968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynzIxpQZzh0Q5ksFc9F7tOkrZlMbJW5uKgQvbcoQC08jzrD3zHKZ5g2fs6kRoPWIcpAiEWIyU9nWboISvcn9ncwGhSefIzL3h52OACeSx4pFnhU47GClsEUGDx0JBVtGUYruhP4CPO-E/s400/ken+teen+on+horse+1968.jpg" width="400" /></a> </td>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkFk4dSnGMCk63shDHSEmjgaFmJ_ww7yjI9k5yJfIB6uiglVeVKu9gSKBBKVGjyiRpc3SaYJUdZCcmcx5dFNlDxcRsWawTIVKS4J2cCkFDdOfIzSZ_SkTzSuWIViWh6HqxSfzwqf2_Xg/s1600/IMG_6173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a><br />
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Picture 31</div>
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Picture 32</div>
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Picture 33</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-wHSDLKGUZcD8BluvYKeh-2ssPGTMmF81codDLpJeTGr6DhFpokqvlIAzEpLSIzAi3FBxmF_0Qu_WdWHSEcaVkzZYM85Gtk1-O3yIl29o4OJUIxI_zEEWtrXwjwJNpv1_Yi6TyjQgQIA/s1600/Kenneth+C.+Schwinn+1953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-wHSDLKGUZcD8BluvYKeh-2ssPGTMmF81codDLpJeTGr6DhFpokqvlIAzEpLSIzAi3FBxmF_0Qu_WdWHSEcaVkzZYM85Gtk1-O3yIl29o4OJUIxI_zEEWtrXwjwJNpv1_Yi6TyjQgQIA/s400/Kenneth+C.+Schwinn+1953.jpg" width="284" /></a></div>
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Picture 34</div>
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Picture 35</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYTH5VIzobIUoC3hDQE3xSnmWzD25MRRp_ppOY_VotYO_Tfr7Z-fa17INz0G6b7fPjXX0Q73N4xteX_K1DUuL7jhZ6_sKUrbqOgY4ogKnOwalnrPhyphenhyphenk3YLHEfvuYXKw_d4NA32atVtXNw/s1600/ken+on+sherman's+horse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYTH5VIzobIUoC3hDQE3xSnmWzD25MRRp_ppOY_VotYO_Tfr7Z-fa17INz0G6b7fPjXX0Q73N4xteX_K1DUuL7jhZ6_sKUrbqOgY4ogKnOwalnrPhyphenhyphenk3YLHEfvuYXKw_d4NA32atVtXNw/s400/ken+on+sherman's+horse.jpg" width="400" /></a> </td>
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Picture 36</div>
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Picture 37</div>
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Picture 38</div>
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I know my father loves me. I thank my Heavenly Father for him. I see him in my children. Oh, how precious has been the time I've had with him. I have been truly blessed. Please send me stories and pictures if you have them. We love the memories.</div>
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Picture 39 My favorite things Kenneth made:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkFk4dSnGMCk63shDHSEmjgaFmJ_ww7yjI9k5yJfIB6uiglVeVKu9gSKBBKVGjyiRpc3SaYJUdZCcmcx5dFNlDxcRsWawTIVKS4J2cCkFDdOfIzSZ_SkTzSuWIViWh6HqxSfzwqf2_Xg/s1600/IMG_6173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkFk4dSnGMCk63shDHSEmjgaFmJ_ww7yjI9k5yJfIB6uiglVeVKu9gSKBBKVGjyiRpc3SaYJUdZCcmcx5dFNlDxcRsWawTIVKS4J2cCkFDdOfIzSZ_SkTzSuWIViWh6HqxSfzwqf2_Xg/s400/IMG_6173.jpg" width="316" /></a></div>
I chose the song "<i>Broken"</i> for this page because at the end of my father's life his body was broken yet he held to joy. He found delight in God's creations. One of his favorite things to delight in was autumn leaves dancing in the street to the tune of wind. He always kept a smile for me, regardless of the state of health he was in. And in that smile he was whole again and not broken. His niece, Kimberly, chose the song "<i>Time to Move On</i>" because it reminded her of him. I choose "<i>A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief</i>" because I have never been walking on the streets of Salt Lake City with my father when he didn't pull out his wallet for any needy soul with a hand extended to him, and I have never been to his home when he didn't have a pile of something he wanted to take to somebody as a gift, either when they were needy or when they needed cheering.<br />
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<img border="0" height="0" src="http://c.gigcount.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEzMzU4NDExMjI2MTQmcHQ9MTMzNTg*MTEyOTExNCZwPTE4MDMxJmQ9Jmc9MSZvPTRhOTNhNWIzZmRmNjRhMzdiMjM5/NDAxNzU4ODQyMDgz.gif" style="height: 0px; visibility: hidden; width: 0px;" width="0" /><embed bgcolor="4E5755" border="0" flashvars="mycolor=4E5755&mycolor2=444345&mycolor3=351552&autoplay=true&rand=0&f=4&vol=100&pat=0&grad=false" height="311" name="myflashfetish" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" quality="high" salign="TL" src="http://assets.mixpod.com/swf/mp3/mixpod.swf?myid=88685916&path=2012/04/23" style="height: 311px; visibility: visible; width: 410px;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="410" wmode="window"></embed><br />
<a href="http://www.mixpod.com/playlist/88685916"><img alt="Music" border="0" src="http://assets.mixpod.com/images/btn2-tracks.gif" title="Get Music Tracks!" /></a><a href="http://www.mixpod.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="Playlist" border="0" src="http://assets.mixpod.com/images/btn2-create.gif" title="Create Your Free Playlist!" /></a><a href="http://www.mixpod.com/user/23697239"><img alt="View Profile" border="0" src="http://assets.mixpod.com/images/btn2-profile.gif" title="View all my playlists!" /></a><br />
Create a <a href="http://mixpod.com/">MySpace Playlist</a> at <a href="http://mixpod.com/">MixPod.com</a></div>Sheryl Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922617648047107744noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-526316409946468492.post-33401585831247756122012-05-20T06:28:00.000-07:002012-05-20T06:28:10.601-07:00Guest Book Entries for Kenneth C. Schwinn<div style="text-align: center;">
These are Guest Book entries courtesy of the </div>
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May 03, 2012<br />
Uncle Kenny was a blessing and a work of art himself, not to mention the awesome art he created. He told us stories and had us giggling and laughing when we saw him. You're free to continue your journey. We love you and you will be missed. ~ Ron Lovato, Sandy, Utah<br />
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May 02, 2012<br />
Sheryl, the blog is such a beautiful tribute to your Father. I hope everyone gets a chance to visit. We will miss him so much. ~ Kimberly (Barney) Czar, Amesbury, Massachusetts<br />
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May 02, 2012<br />
Journey well ken, you will be missed! ~ Robert Cole, Woods Cross, Utah<br />
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May 02, 2012<br />
I knew Kenny in high school when I became friends with his friend Doug Chapman. Doug and Kenny grew up together on Coatsville and were very close. I thoroughly enjoyed every encounter I had with Kenny. He was often the life of the party. Later we had the chance to cruise together a bit on Motorcycles. My best to the family. ~ Chuck Salazar, Salt Lake City, Utah<br />
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May 02, 2012<br />
Sheryl, Heavenly Father loves you and your dad and will definitely show you the way to get through this. I know this experience will change you forever. Just remember all the good times you shared with your dad and all the love he gave you throughout the years. He is not gone. He will live in your heart forever. Love you always. ~ Tina Lloyd, Cedar City, Utah<br />
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May 03, 2012<br />
Uncle Kenny was a blessing and a work of art himself, not to mention the awesome art he created. He told us stories and had us giggling and laughing when we saw him. You're free to continue your journey. We love you and you will be missed. ~ Ron and Shawna Coon Lovato, Sandy, Utah<br />
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May 03, 2012<br />
We send our sincere condolences to Kenny's family and all those whose life he touched. He was loved and cared for while here on earth and will be joyfully reunited with his mother. Blessings on you Sheryl! ~ F. W.,Reed & Sherry McGregor, St. George, Utah<br />
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May 03, 2012<br />
I have not seen Kenny for quite a few years now. I will say though that throughout my life when I would see him he was always very kind and always wanted to know how your life was. Kenny had a heart as big as the whole outdoors and a smile to match. As my cousin their was 4 years difference in our ages and he treated me like we were the same. A very kind and giving person to the end. He was a joy to be around. Memories of him will last a lifetime. ~ Craig Hyde, Morgan, Utah<br />
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May 10, 2012<br />
I am so sorry to hear of Kens passing. I was honored to have helped in anyway that I did and honored to have met Ken. My best to all his family. ~Beverly, his nurse.<br />
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May 11, 2012<br />
I will miss you, Ken. I hope your journey brings you endless happiness, many new friends and treasure beyond imagination...you will be remembered with love. ~ Gayle Schleicher, West Valley City, Utah<br />
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<br />Sheryl Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922617648047107744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-526316409946468492.post-72675215460606452142012-05-02T06:51:00.000-07:002012-05-02T06:51:53.378-07:00Tiersa Cosaert Memories<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://kennethschwinn.blogspot.com/2012/04/home.html">Home</a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">By Tiersa Cosaert</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I knew him as Uncle Kenny, my dad always considered him a brother, and it's no wonder since they grew up together and shared so much. </span><span style="font-size: large;">It's hard to know where I should start with Kenny, I don't know whether his art, or his humor come to mind first, but I'd have to say his humor. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">He reminded me a lot of one of my favorite authors Hunter S. Thompson, a strange, highly intelligent, yet misunderstood weirdo that had a </span><span style="font-size: large;">penchant for offending others just to get a little amusement for himself. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I grew up with hilarious stories of a bizarre nature. If Kenny was involved, I always knew I wanted to stick around to hear of his shenanigans.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Two stories that still come to mind instantly, are one of a biker bar, the Barbary Coast, and a local party. </span><span style="font-size: large;">The Barbary Coast story involved one of Kenny's more unruly moments, in which he accompanied my mom and dad to the bar, sat down, </span><span style="font-size: large;">surrounded by bikers, and took it upon himself to stand up with one leg on the bar, and his other planted on his chair, yelling very loudly, </span><span style="font-size: large;">"I hate ikers!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">All the patrons glared at him accordingly, but dismissed it after a few quiet minutes following the outburst. My mom and dad ducked their </span><span style="font-size: large;">heads and tried to continue their evening peacefully. Kenny had sat back down and chuckled to himself for those quiet moments, nobody </span><span style="font-size: large;">was quite sure why he was so amused, and no one asked. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The local party story was just as strange, but it went along with what seemed to be Kenny's sense of humor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My parents had thrown a party at their house in Sandy, as they often did for their friends. It started off as a relatively calm party, with </span><span style="font-size: large;">most people congregating in the basement where there was a built in bar and pool table. There were only about four people upstairs in </span><span style="font-size: large;">the kitchen and front room, but Kenny was one of them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can't recall the name of this particular friend of my parents, but he was a mutual friend of Kenny's, or at least a friendly acquaintance. </span><span style="font-size: large;">He was apparently known to be somewhat of a "macho-man," never wanting to be seen as girly, and very adamantly avoided "gay jokes." </span><span style="font-size: large;">Knowing this, Kenny approached this man as he was sitting in the front room, sat down on his lap, wrapped his arms around his neck and </span><span style="font-size: large;">said: "Give us a kiss."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The man promptly yelled "Get off of me!" and stood up to throw Kenny into my parents' very large fireplace. </span><span style="font-size: large;">In the meantime, one of the women upstairs in the kitchen had ran to the basement to tell my parents that there was a fight upstairs, and </span><span style="font-size: large;">that Kenny was involved. </span><span style="font-size: large;">My parents ran upstairs in disbelief, only to find Kenny sitting in the fireplace laughing hysterically. </span><span style="font-size: large;">It was later discovered that Kenny was not even drunk at this point.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So those were some of my favorite stories I grew up hearing. My own funny story is much shorter, but I'd like to share it anyway, since this seems the best </span><span style="font-size: large;">time to do it. </span><span style="font-size: large;">It was very seldom that Kenny visited when I was growing up, but whenever he did, I was always excited, given that he would always come bearing strange and </span><span style="font-size: large;">sometimes disgusting gifts for my sister and I. Including, but not limited to: squishy brain toys with fake blood in them, boxes of fake bugs, joke dog poop, </span><span style="font-size: large;">fart-inducing gum, bar soap that would make one's hands dirty, etc. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I was a strange child, and I loved his strange sense of humor. Thus, one day when I was </span><span style="font-size: large;">about 5-years-old, he brought over a can of joke spam that said "Armadillo meat" on it. The can label went into great detail about what kind of truck ran over the </span><span style="font-size: large;">armadillo, and what the meat was spiced with. He handed it to me, before even greeting my mom, and said "Here, tell your mom to make you a sandwich outa this." </span><span style="font-size: large;">I still have that can somewhere in my room, because it was so funny I could never get rid of it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lastly, I'll mention his art, and what it's meant to me over the years. He made many different sculptures that he'd given to my parents, a belt buckle, a mirror, a coffee cup, etc., and I could never ignore them. We used to keep one or two of them in the Halloween box that we would take out in time for decorations in October. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As I got older, I found that Halloween was my favorite holiday, and I also had a love for ceramic sculpture. I asked my dad if I could keep Kenny's art pieces in my </span><span style="font-size: large;">room, and I still have them there, I look at them every day. He inspired me to make strange creations of my own, to think outside of the box and indulge my strange,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">creepy side, in order to get great creations. He was an amazing artist, I would love to have a smidgen of his talent, and I still push myself for that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've been writing a fantasy/horror novel for quite some time, and finished it about two days ago, my plan is to dedicate it to him, since after all, he's inspired me so </span><span style="font-size: large;">much over the years, and I never even realized it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I simply wanted to show my love for Uncle Kenny, I respected him as an artist and as a comedian. He was one of the funniest, strangest people I've ever known. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I attached some pictures of my sculptures that all had a lot of inspiration from looking at his sculptures. They remind me of him now.</span><br />
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</div>Sheryl Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922617648047107744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-526316409946468492.post-24503852219659522552012-05-02T06:18:00.000-07:002012-05-02T06:21:45.901-07:00Rob Cosaert Memories<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://kennethschwinn.blogspot.com/2012/04/home.html">Home</a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">By Rob Cosaert</span></div>
Ken was my dearest friend in the world, and I owe much of who I am to him. I met Ken when my parents moved next to Barbara’s house. I was only 7, and he the cool 11-year old next door. Of course I instantly looked up to him, but all the other kids on the block did as well, the kids his age, and even those older than him. He was always a born leader, and would start us all on marvelous adventures and projects. From tree-houses to underground bunkers, from building homemade go-carts to modifying our bicycles in ludicrous ways.<br />
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Ken would organize elaborate war games that sometimes involved propelled lit wooden matches ( I think I could still make one of those match guns), and at other times water fights and snowball fights. And, although that sounds like a rather typical childhood (except for the matches), Ken would imbue so much focus, so much attention to detail, such creativity, and such competitive spirit, that it gave these events the intensity of professional sports, and it made them very memorable! <br />
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Ken would always choose the weakest ”army” and then use strategy to win the wars. He would sometimes use a feigned attack and then retreat while the opposing army rushed headlong into an ambush. One time he had an idea to dig a hole between our homes and we buried little Michael Valdez in it, giving him a short hose to breathe through. At precisely the right moment little Mikey jumped out of his hole and blew away the opposing troops, thus giving us a victory against all odds. Yeah,… Ken made my childhood a blast!<br />
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Ken also taught me to question everything, especially authority, and that’s not always a good thing when you’re still in grade school, but it kept life interesting, and it opened my mind. We would have endless debates on his front porch about religion, politics, science, you name it. These were long discussions between 5 or 6 of us, but Ken & I would always stay up the latest, when most of the other kids got bored. We realized that we loved debate, and would sometimes even switch sides of an issue, just to practice. <br />
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I’ve always been convinced that Ken was a genius, but the first time I saw his report card I was shocked that he was failing nearly all of his classes, and that was when he was in 6th grade! So just how and when he learned what he knew has always been a mystery to me.<br />
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<a href="http://mixpod.com/">Music</a> <a href="http://mixpod.com/">Playlist</a> at <a href="http://mixpod.com/">MixPod.com</a></div>Sheryl Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922617648047107744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-526316409946468492.post-63211980008139594952012-04-30T18:32:00.002-07:002012-04-30T20:53:29.289-07:00Shawna's Eulogy<a href="http://kennethschwinn.blogspot.com/2012/04/home.html"><i>Home</i></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">By Shawna Coon Lovato, Kenneth's niece</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Dearest Uncle Kenny, yes, I know everyone else calls you Kenneth but I knew you as Kenny, so Uncle Kenny it is. Because you and I were so close in age, my memories may be fading but my times with you stand crystal clear. My first memory was when we had the fire in our house and had to come sleep at grandma's until the damage was taken care of. The first thing I remember Grandma saying when being tucked into the blanket on the couches was: "keep your toes in the covers, because Tessie will bite them" (Tessie, being your dog). When waking up, I was terrified and wouldn't get up because of "Tessie". You came to me with your dog and assured me that my toes would be safe and sound, my hero!</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">I'm sure in your eyes it was a pain to have to "keep an eye" on a niece seven years younger. But for me as I got older, it was such a treat. I was able to spend time with the guy I adored, my uncle, the cool guy. You told me stories of the neighborhood, some awesome, one pretty gruesome (which to this day I'm not sure was true). You entertained me in so many ways, whether by walking me over to buy penny candy, having a picnic in the front yard or just watching the clouds go by. But one of my most memorable and horrifying times we had was when you gave me a ride on the front handlebars of your bicycle and my heel decided to get tangled up with the spokes of your front tire. The outcome...my foot missing a good part of my heel. Quite traumatic for a young girl, but you were so worried about me, you stayed right by my side until I was all bandaged and calmed down. As I grew older, I saw less of you but you were always so good to me when were together.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">I grew up, married and had a family and you still filled my life full of memories. You would take us down to the basement, your "Art Museum" to show us your latest collection of hand carved items. Talk about details and craftsmanship, they really should have been in a Gallery. And every time we went to visit and you were there, we left with our stomachs and cheeks hurting from laughing from the fun jokes and anecdotes you would tell. You were such a joy to be with. Thank you for being you and sharing your unique and gifted personality with us. I will always love and cherish my memories of you.</span></i><br />
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: Arial;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><a href="http://kennethschwinn.blogspot.com/2012/04/home.html">Home</a></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: large; white-space: pre-wrap;">By Kimberly Czar, Kenneth's niece</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: large; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: large; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>There are few people in this world dearer to me than my Uncle Kenneth. When I was growing up, he was one of my best friends and most excellent partner in mischief. Nobody has ever made me laugh harder or dream bigger. His intensely creative imagination and uniquely rebellious spirit color my outlook on life to this day, and if I’m lucky, will continue to do so for the rest of my life. He branded me with a nickname when I was a baby that sticks to this day. “Krumbly” because, according to him, I was always covered in crumbs.
Kenneth came on most of our family vacations and camping trips with us and always made everything more fun and memorable than it would have otherwise been. I remember him helping my Father pack up the motorhome with supplies and gear for the 6 of us. It was much too early in the morning to be working so hard. He came into the house, panting and wiping his brow and proclaimed “I have arranged seating for 5. One of us must die.” He would often adopt an alter ego on these trips by the name of “Billy Hooter”. Billy was a little slow and rather off putting. He would skulk around, sticking his head in the window to ask for treats or deposit treasures he had found around the campsite - like a weird rock or a clump of burrs. Billy would get annoyed when dinner was taking too long and walk around with his knife and fork, threatening to ask other campers to feed him.
I remember one instance where my folks had gone to the lodge for supplies and left Kenneth, me and my brothers alone at the campsite for what seemed to us much too long a time, so we dug a moat around the entrance to the camper and filled it with sticker bushes.
He never wore anything but Levis, long sleeved, collared shirts and cowboy boots. No matter how hot it was or what the occasion, he was always looking dapper. He even jumped off the cliffs at Lake Powell and swam with me in his jeans and button down shirt. I think he did remove the boots for that though.
His child-like sense of wonder and imagination was infectious and he liked to bring people into his world. He carved a gigantic pair of taloned bird feet out of wood and brought them on trips so he could strap them to his feet and walk around on the lake beaches leaving impossible footprints for people to ponder about later.
Kenneth was both the best and the worst babysitter of all time. When my little brother was born, my mother had recruited Kenneth to stay with me and my older brother while she was in the hospital. She painstakingly wrote out instructions about our school schedules and routines, organized our vitamins into little packets for each day and even tried to teach him how to put barrettes in my hair. When the big day came, Kenneth made a big sign proclaiming “MAYOR KEN DAY! NO SCHOOL!!!” and put it up on the fridge. We spend the day eating junk food and playing games and then went to visit my Mother and new brother in the Hospital with uncombed hair and mismatched socks.
He enjoyed causing mayhem and picking on the people he loved relentlessly. The following is list of random, snapshot memories in no particular order:
He once replaced the apple in my lunchbox with a raw potato.
He loved black licorice, buttermilk and liver with onions. Eew, eew, and eeeeeew!
He once fixed the muffler on my car with a campbell's soup can and some wire.
He had a propensity for rearranging your furniture at random when you were not at home.
He named his dog Monty, after a bully who picked on him in school.
He often asked “Are we having fun yet?” when things were at their most miserable.
We sculpted a giant crocodile out of snow in my backyard, complete with a mouth full of icicle teeth.
We used to have “ant man wars” on sheets of white paper where we would draw tiny stickmen and murder them in increasingly fantastical ways until the whole page was filled destruction. We continued doing this by mail even after I moved away.
Kenneth often liked to say that he was not from this planet. I think it may have been true. His home planet was much more exciting and wondrous than ours. I am grateful that he took me there and let me experience it from time to time and my life is richer for it. In the words of Don McClean “This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.”</i></span></span><br />
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Create a <a href="http://mixpod.com/">MySpace Music</a> <a href="http://mixpod.com/">Playlist</a> at <a href="http://mixpod.com/">MixPod.com</a></div>Sheryl Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05922617648047107744noreply@blogger.com4