NEWSPAPER OBITUARY:
A car went out of control in an accident which claimed the life of 30 yr old June Marie Jones. Family and friends knew her as "Junie".
Junie was dead on arrival at St. Francis Hospital at 12:05 a.m. on Jan. 19, 1967. She suffered multiple fractures, including her neck when she was thrown from her hurtling car.
Mrs. Jones was born in Randolf, Illinois on June 11, 1936, the daughter of John and Frieda (Roeske) Rowan.
She was married to Byron E.Jones Jr., Nov. 24, 1961 in Peoria, Illinois.
Surviving are her husband, one daughter, Lisa Marie, her mother of Bloomington, Illinois; two brothers, David Rowan of Glendora, Calif; Lester Rowan of Bloomington, three sisters, Mrs. Ruth Eades of Heyworth,Illinois , and Mrs. Mildred Bernice Pink of Sarasota, Florida.
Mrs. Jones was a member of Forrest Hill Methodist Church.
Funeral services will be held at 10 a.m. Sat. at the Wilton Mortuary with the Rev. J. Henry Cox officiating. Friends may call at the Mortuary from 7 to 9 p.m. tomorrow. Burial will be in Parkview Cemetery in Peoria, Illinois.
*****************************************************
NOTE:
My Aunt Dorothy (Junie's sister) told me that Junie's death was a terrible shock to all of the family, as can well be imagined. Junie was the baby sister, so loved by her family. I found this poem which I thought was appropriate for my Aunt Junie's memorial page.
Signed: Juanita Clark
HOW WE SURVIVE:
If we are fortunate, we are given a warning.
If not, there is only the sudden horror, The wrench of being torn apart; of being reminded that nothing is permanent, not even the ones we love, the ones our lives revolve around.
Life is a fragile affair. One by one, we lose those we love most. So we must cherish them without reservation. Now...Today... This minute...We will lose them someday, or they will lose us. This is certain. There is no time for bickering.
Their loss will leave a great pit in our hearts. A pit we struggle to avoid during the day, and fall into at night. That black pit of shock, denial, the empty aching, the sleepless nights.
Somehow we survive and like a flower opening after a storm, we slowly begin to remember the one we lost in a different way. The laughter, the generous heart, The way their smile made us feel, the encouragement they gave. In time we fill the pit with other memories, the only memories that really matter.
We will still cry, but with loving reflection. And that is how we survive. That is how they would want it to be.
Taken from words written by: Mark Rickerby
*****************************************************
A car went out of control in an accident which claimed the life of 30 yr old June Marie Jones. Family and friends knew her as "Junie".
Junie was dead on arrival at St. Francis Hospital at 12:05 a.m. on Jan. 19, 1967. She suffered multiple fractures, including her neck when she was thrown from her hurtling car.
Mrs. Jones was born in Randolf, Illinois on June 11, 1936, the daughter of John and Frieda (Roeske) Rowan.
She was married to Byron E.Jones Jr., Nov. 24, 1961 in Peoria, Illinois.
Surviving are her husband, one daughter, Lisa Marie, her mother of Bloomington, Illinois; two brothers, David Rowan of Glendora, Calif; Lester Rowan of Bloomington, three sisters, Mrs. Ruth Eades of Heyworth,Illinois , and Mrs. Mildred Bernice Pink of Sarasota, Florida.
Mrs. Jones was a member of Forrest Hill Methodist Church.
Funeral services will be held at 10 a.m. Sat. at the Wilton Mortuary with the Rev. J. Henry Cox officiating. Friends may call at the Mortuary from 7 to 9 p.m. tomorrow. Burial will be in Parkview Cemetery in Peoria, Illinois.
*****************************************************
NOTE:
My Aunt Dorothy (Junie's sister) told me that Junie's death was a terrible shock to all of the family, as can well be imagined. Junie was the baby sister, so loved by her family. I found this poem which I thought was appropriate for my Aunt Junie's memorial page.
Signed: Juanita Clark
HOW WE SURVIVE:
If we are fortunate, we are given a warning.
If not, there is only the sudden horror, The wrench of being torn apart; of being reminded that nothing is permanent, not even the ones we love, the ones our lives revolve around.
Life is a fragile affair. One by one, we lose those we love most. So we must cherish them without reservation. Now...Today... This minute...We will lose them someday, or they will lose us. This is certain. There is no time for bickering.
Their loss will leave a great pit in our hearts. A pit we struggle to avoid during the day, and fall into at night. That black pit of shock, denial, the empty aching, the sleepless nights.
Somehow we survive and like a flower opening after a storm, we slowly begin to remember the one we lost in a different way. The laughter, the generous heart, The way their smile made us feel, the encouragement they gave. In time we fill the pit with other memories, the only memories that really matter.
We will still cry, but with loving reflection. And that is how we survive. That is how they would want it to be.
Taken from words written by: Mark Rickerby
*****************************************************
NEWSPAPER OBITUARY:
A car went out of control in an accident which claimed the life of 30 yr old June Marie Jones. Family and friends knew her as "Junie".
Junie was dead on arrival at St. Francis Hospital at 12:05 a.m. on Jan. 19, 1967. She suffered multiple fractures, including her neck when she was thrown from her hurtling car.
Mrs. Jones was born in Randolf, Illinois on June 11, 1936, the daughter of John and Frieda (Roeske) Rowan.
She was married to Byron E.Jones Jr., Nov. 24, 1961 in Peoria, Illinois.
Surviving are her husband, one daughter, Lisa Marie, her mother of Bloomington, Illinois; two brothers, David Rowan of Glendora, Calif; Lester Rowan of Bloomington, three sisters, Mrs. Ruth Eades of Heyworth,Illinois , and Mrs. Mildred Bernice Pink of Sarasota, Florida.
Mrs. Jones was a member of Forrest Hill Methodist Church.
Funeral services will be held at 10 a.m. Sat. at the Wilton Mortuary with the Rev. J. Henry Cox officiating. Friends may call at the Mortuary from 7 to 9 p.m. tomorrow. Burial will be in Parkview Cemetery in Peoria, Illinois.
*****************************************************
NOTE:
My Aunt Dorothy (Junie's sister) told me that Junie's death was a terrible shock to all of the family, as can well be imagined. Junie was the baby sister, so loved by her family. I found this poem which I thought was appropriate for my Aunt Junie's memorial page.
Signed: Juanita Clark
HOW WE SURVIVE:
If we are fortunate, we are given a warning.
If not, there is only the sudden horror, The wrench of being torn apart; of being reminded that nothing is permanent, not even the ones we love, the ones our lives revolve around.
Life is a fragile affair. One by one, we lose those we love most. So we must cherish them without reservation. Now...Today... This minute...We will lose them someday, or they will lose us. This is certain. There is no time for bickering.
Their loss will leave a great pit in our hearts. A pit we struggle to avoid during the day, and fall into at night. That black pit of shock, denial, the empty aching, the sleepless nights.
Somehow we survive and like a flower opening after a storm, we slowly begin to remember the one we lost in a different way. The laughter, the generous heart, The way their smile made us feel, the encouragement they gave. In time we fill the pit with other memories, the only memories that really matter.
We will still cry, but with loving reflection. And that is how we survive. That is how they would want it to be.
Taken from words written by: Mark Rickerby
*****************************************************
A car went out of control in an accident which claimed the life of 30 yr old June Marie Jones. Family and friends knew her as "Junie".
Junie was dead on arrival at St. Francis Hospital at 12:05 a.m. on Jan. 19, 1967. She suffered multiple fractures, including her neck when she was thrown from her hurtling car.
Mrs. Jones was born in Randolf, Illinois on June 11, 1936, the daughter of John and Frieda (Roeske) Rowan.
She was married to Byron E.Jones Jr., Nov. 24, 1961 in Peoria, Illinois.
Surviving are her husband, one daughter, Lisa Marie, her mother of Bloomington, Illinois; two brothers, David Rowan of Glendora, Calif; Lester Rowan of Bloomington, three sisters, Mrs. Ruth Eades of Heyworth,Illinois , and Mrs. Mildred Bernice Pink of Sarasota, Florida.
Mrs. Jones was a member of Forrest Hill Methodist Church.
Funeral services will be held at 10 a.m. Sat. at the Wilton Mortuary with the Rev. J. Henry Cox officiating. Friends may call at the Mortuary from 7 to 9 p.m. tomorrow. Burial will be in Parkview Cemetery in Peoria, Illinois.
*****************************************************
NOTE:
My Aunt Dorothy (Junie's sister) told me that Junie's death was a terrible shock to all of the family, as can well be imagined. Junie was the baby sister, so loved by her family. I found this poem which I thought was appropriate for my Aunt Junie's memorial page.
Signed: Juanita Clark
HOW WE SURVIVE:
If we are fortunate, we are given a warning.
If not, there is only the sudden horror, The wrench of being torn apart; of being reminded that nothing is permanent, not even the ones we love, the ones our lives revolve around.
Life is a fragile affair. One by one, we lose those we love most. So we must cherish them without reservation. Now...Today... This minute...We will lose them someday, or they will lose us. This is certain. There is no time for bickering.
Their loss will leave a great pit in our hearts. A pit we struggle to avoid during the day, and fall into at night. That black pit of shock, denial, the empty aching, the sleepless nights.
Somehow we survive and like a flower opening after a storm, we slowly begin to remember the one we lost in a different way. The laughter, the generous heart, The way their smile made us feel, the encouragement they gave. In time we fill the pit with other memories, the only memories that really matter.
We will still cry, but with loving reflection. And that is how we survive. That is how they would want it to be.
Taken from words written by: Mark Rickerby
*****************************************************
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