Ben P. Klauer 1918-2008

KLAUER, GOLDTHORPE, CLEWELL, COLLINS, MARGET, MURRAY

Posted By: J. N. (email)
Date: 2/10/2008 at 19:44:35

Telegraph Herald
Dubuque, iowa
Sunday, February 10, 2008

Ben P. Klauer

Ben P. Klauer, 89, of Seattle, formerly of Dubuque, on Thursday, Jan. 31, 2008, halfway through the evening news, determined that he had finished just about everything he needed to do in this world. He slipped away quietly, with neither complaint nor discomfort, at his home in Seattle.

We invite you to celebrate with us a memorial Mass in Ben's honor at 11 a.m. Saturday, Feb. 23, 2008, at Prince of Peace Catholic Church, 14818 W. Deer Valley Drive, Sun City West, Ariz., 85375.

He was born on Oct. 16, 1918, in Dubuque, the fourth of six lucky children born into the happy family of Benjamin F. Klauer and Arminta Goldthorpe Klauer. Ben studied at Columbia Academy and Loras College in Dubuque and completed his MBA at the University of Iowa. He served his country proudly during World War II, spending four years in Europe with the U.S. 8th Air Force 384th Bomb Group, 545 Squadron.

In 1948, Ben married the love of his life, Peggy Clewell; she preceded him in death in 2001. They raised their two daughters, Gretchen and Bev, in Dubuque.

Ben and Peg moved to Sun City West, Ariz., in 1980, drawn by the year-round sunshine and fabulous golf courses. Still game for adventure at age 87 (and despite a chorus of "No" by his Arizona friends, "You're going the wrong way. People from Seattle move here,") Ben relocated in 2006 to the Pacific Northwest to live with Bev and his son-in-law Robin Collins.

Ben outlived most of his siblings, his precious wife and many of his lifelong friends. Gretchen and Bev feel that a long litany of pre-deceased relations and club memberships will do little to lift the heart of today's reader. In the spirit of our incredible dad, who dedicated every day of his life to making other people happy, we offer instead these short vignettes and comments that we hope will carry a bit of his love, his humor, his integrity and his optimism into your life today.

As a new father in the early 50s, Ben once decided he had the perfect solution to four-month-old Gretchen's tears -- salami. Maybe he was right. The amazing new taste made her totally forget whatever she was crying about.

Ben was a terrific golfer with three holes-in-one to his credit and absolutely loved the game, playing into his early 80s despite hip surgeries that did nothing for his swing. When the girls were little, his golf game was at its peak and Ben had a scratch handicap, but he put away his clubs during Gret and Bev's childhood years in order to spend all his free time with his daughters and their little friends.

Saturday mornings created much excitement on Douglas Street and Walsh Parkway in Dubuque, when Ben would herd together as many neighborhood kids as he could fit in his enormous Chrysler and pack them all off for unannounced adventures. Once they went to a small creek running through a beautiful grassy meadow, and he sat the children down to hear stories of the tribes of wild Indians who once inhabited the Midwest. Suddenly, everyone was horrified to see the whooping and hollering, hatchet-wielding, war-painted spectacle of real live Indians rushing down from the hills into the middle of their little picnic. Ben had set cousins, Roger Murray and Hank Koester, to the task of scaring the willies out of everyone right at the best part of the story.

Another Saturday morning excursion took them to a tiny chapel out in the country where somebody found a sign with the admonition "No Roller Skating on the Ceiling," and everyone memorized the gravestone verse that read, "There was an angel band in heaven that was not quite complete, so God called our dear Wesley to fill the vacant seat."

How unfair it would be to remember Ben Klauer only as a fine father, husband, son and brother. Fun-loving and interested in virtually everything, Ben also was a devoted friend.

"I would thank my stars if I could have the kind of joy on my face that he had on his face when he took me outside to show me his 62nd new car. He was jumping with joy like a small kid," says Ashish Gupta, "and I just wish I could get that in me."

Celeste Hunter remembers, "He was a bright star where we needed it when my grandmother, Grace Hasselquist, died."

These heartfelt tributes were offered by Ben's Seattle friends who are younger than 30.

Ado Lagen, dear friend of 70 years, offers this memory. "Ben was always armed with a lot of jokes. I often wondered how he remembered so many. He was lots of fun to be around." True. Ben's amazing memory and his ability to recall the perfect funny story for any occasion made him the life of many parties.

Warm and loving, generous and sincere, Ben was strict, too, and left no room close by his side for the long-suffering, the complainer, those who lack integrity or folks with misguided political views. One never wondered where one stood with Ben Klauer. We didn't always agree with all his various viewpoints, but how refreshing it is to know a man who spoke from his heart with passion and enthusiasm. Ben was positive his opinion was the only valid one and often said, "I've never made a mistake in my life. I thought I did once"| but I was wrong."

In today's fluid and fast-paced society we've grown sadly accustomed to change and instability. How many of us even remember someone who worked more than fifty years for the same employer? Ben dedicated his entire professional career to Klauer Manufacturing Company, established in Dubuque in 1870, and still is owned and operated by the Klauer family.

After Peggy, grandson Chris Marget might have been the most precious person in Ben's life. Like-minded and brilliant, Ben and Chris spent countless hours puttering together in one garage or another, performing strange and perhaps unnecessary feats like building spud guns and making an electric pickle that would light up like a light bulb. And stink. Chris said it this way, "He was Superman to me. He was my hero!" Ben was one of the most remarkable people most of us will ever know.

Magic was among his favorite avocations and Ben's practiced sleight of hand and expansive repertoire of magic tricks, supported by childhood shills, Gret and Bev, delighted all the cousins at family gatherings. A generation later, Chris, too, spent many precious hours mesmerized by grandpa's magic.

Ben, Peg, Gretchen and Bev were sitting together in the family room on Eagle Point Drive the first time they saw Marcel Marceau on The Ed Sullivan Show. Suddenly, Ben was gone. A quick search of the house found him in the living room. In the dark, leaning nonchalantly on an imaginary mantelpiece. Sort of...he needed practice.

The world is clearly a better place for Ben Klauer's having dropped by for awhile and we will miss his shining presence in our lives, especially his family, daughters Gretchen Klauer, of Peoria, Ariz., and Bev Collins, of Seattle; son-in-law, Robin Collins; grandson, Chris Marget and Chris' wife, Ariella Marget, and their daughter, Michaela; grandson, Christopher Collins; sister Betty Murray; brother and sister-in-law, Allen and Jerrie Clewell; and many nieces and nephews.