Family Reflections, spoken at Jim’s funeral on Tuesday, March 9, 2021. When remembering and speaking of Jim, these memories and stories of him come to mind. Jim was the oldest child and he often used that against his siblings, Douglas, Lona, Marc and Linda. Growing up with him, I remember that he always had a gleam in his eye, a look of being inquisitive, charming and impish, but also had a light shining from within him, drawing us toward him and his personality. Long before the word “bully” became such a part of our everyday vocabulary, Jim was that word, at times, to his siblings. At any time, for any reason, Jim would sometimes grab us by both hands, spread his fingers through ours and painfully snap our wrists downward, forcing us downward, sometimes to our knees. It hurt! Then he’d tell us to repeat, “Have mercy on me, King James!” which we did, quickly! Then he’d let us go, with a look of satisfaction and superiority with that little light shining through as he strutted away. Jim loved high school track and excelled in running. He was skinny and wiry and boy, could he run! He could run down the driveway when the school bus was coming like nobody’s business while the rest of us seemed to move like a herd of turtles. I remember standing near the chicken coop one summer day as a youngster and seeing Jim sprinting across the lawn toward the barn. In hot pursuit was Dad, almost at Jim’s side, ready to overtake him! I think Jim had given Dad some lip about something stupid like, “You can’t catch me!” Jim was wrong. I think Jim’s inner light was dimmed just a bit that day! Jim and Stanley Buhr were Sunday School and high school classmates and friends. When they were in junior high, they were both allowed to sit in the church balcony, unaccompanied by parents (sort of a rite of passage). One particular Sunday, while Pastor Lewis was in the pulpit delivering his sermon, the congregation noticed he was glancing up into the balcony, often. Then he stopped, stepped out of the pulpit, made his way down the north church aisle to the back of the church and up the steps to the balcony. The congregation could hear him speaking to someone. I think every parent of a child known to be in the balcony that day was filled with dread, Mom and Dad included, and for good reason! It seems that the sermon was not interesting to Jim and Stanley and they had removed their snap-on bow ties and were using them as butterflies, performing a little side show. As the song goes, Jim wasn’t going to hide his light under a bushel basket. He was going to let it shine, even in church! Sometime when Jim was in high school, the rest of the family had gone somewhere for the evening. It might have been to Norton and Gladys’ or to Boyd and LeVina’s (family friends) to visit. Jim had decided to stay home, by himself. Upon arriving back home, Doug and I made our way upstairs to the bedroom that we shared with Jim, only to find the floor, Jim’s bed and Jim covered in purple liquid. We learned that Jim had helped himself to the Mogen David wine in the basement. That wine was never used except for Julebukk (Norwegian Christmas adult trick-or-treaters) visitors during Christmas. Even though he got sick from that wine all those years ago, Jim never turned down a glass or more of Mogen David! After a few glasses, Jim lit up the room with stories and jokes. He was always entertaining! Jim was wounded twice in VietNam. I remember Mom and Dad’s anguish when they received middle-of-the-night telephone calls from hospital staff in Thailand, reporting that Jim had been airlifted to their hospital for emergency care. He had shrapnel removed but some was embedded in his body tissue all his life. When he returned from his service in VietNam, Mom warned Linda and me to be quiet in the house, avoid making loud noises and to give him space and time. What Jim had experienced there as an infantryman was horrible and life altering. It seemed that his light had been extinguished when he returned to us. In his own time and with his own will, the light returned. As mentioned in his obituary, Jim was a member of the Belgrade Veterans of Foreign Wars and the Brooten American Legion. He held a quiet pride in his service to our country and loved Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day. He participated in area programs and services. We knew that if we came home to attend Big Grove’s annual Memorial Day dinner that we wouldn’t see Jim because of his involvement visiting numerous local cemeteries honoring the war dead. His love of God and country shone brightly! Jim loved his kids, nieces, nephews and cousins dearly. He tease relentlessly and he bestowed nicknames on just about everyone in the family. There were many times that we couldn’t figure out who he was talking about because of his nicknames for family! Nicknames like Gort, Wendella, Suckless, Zayda, Elmer Fudd, Frog Hinder, Gear Box, Leapy Lee, Elroy, Zippatots, Siggityflumpers, Bruce, The Shootist, and some that I can’t say here in church! His light was shining the brightest when he was poking fun at someone, being sarcastic, flirting and telling jokes. He perfected Ole and Lena and Norwegian jokes through telling them repeatedly to his wide circle of friends and business associates. He stole Marvin Imsdahl’s (a dear friend) Norwegian phrase and used it as his own, “Herre gusen presten!” and said it often. It translates roughly to “Here comes the preacher!” I wonder, if at the Pearly Gates on the evening Jim passed away, God and Marvin greeted Jim with, “Herre gusen presten!” Jim was a great influence on my children, Christian and Lauren who came later than the rest of the nieces and nephews and saw Jim and Cathy more as grandparents than an uncle and an aunt. Jim took such interest in Christian’s golfing and music and taught him deer hunting and kept him well stocked with ammo. Jim taught Christian the fine art of fireworks detonation on every 4th of July! Watching them was like watching kids in a candy store! Jim loved Lauren, understood her problems caused by cancer and always took time to converse with her. She acted shy around him, especially when he’d tell her that he was going to kiss her whole face or ask her for a hug. We knew she was always excited to see him. He was their light! These are only a few of light shining experiences that I had with Jim. I know that most of you had your own light experiences with him. How did Jim’s light shine on you? In whatever way he impacted your life, I hope his light remains bright in your memories for a long time. I thank God for James Allen Thoen!