3.30.2010


Blogger tells me I haven't been on this thing since January 20th. Some start this year is off to.

I suppose in my last post I wrote my update up to the point of something that's a bit difficult to write about, in that I don't really feel I could do it justice.

My grandfather, Dr. J. Paul Schweinfurth, died January 7th, 2010. I'm posting the obit text here under the passing thought that perhaps my blog will survive online longer than the newspaper's archives:

Dr. J. Paul Schweinfurth of Nevada City died Thursday, January 7, in Grass Valley. He was 87.

A service will be at 2 p.m. Sunday, Jan. 17, at Calvary Bible Church, Grass Valley.

He was born Dec. 17, 1922, in Sandusky, Ohio, to William and Hazel Schweinfurth.

He attended Wheaton College, Northwestern University Medical School and the Mayo Clinic. He served in the U.S. Army during World War II.

He married Marjorie “Marge” Brouwer on Sept. 25, 1947, in Chicago.

Dr. Schweinfurth was a neurologic surgeon in private practice in Loichita, Kansas and Santa Barbara. He was a certified board member of Neurologic Surgery, Harvey Cushing Society and the Mayo Clinic Alumni. He enjoyed reading, bird watching and cooking.

He is survived by his wife, Marge Schweinfurth of Nevada City; children, Susie Culkin of Reno, Nev., Annie Knowles of Sacramento, and Jim Schweinfurth of Portland, Ore., brother, Joe Schweinfurth of Portland, Or.; 10 grandchildren and one great-grandson.

Dr. Schweinfurth was preceded in death by his parents, William and Hazel Schweinfurth; and brother, Henry Schweinfurth.


I loved my grandfather very much, he was kind man, and when I recall my lifetime of experiences with him, I have not a bad memory that I can access in his regard. He was not a perfect man, but he was the best grandfather I could have ever asked for. He read his Bible complete every year, and read voraciously outside of that as well. He was a good man, the type that I can only hope to imitate some day. I am thankful for the days I was able to be with him before he left us here, behind.

We called him "Grandie."