Karl’s Story

Site created on June 25, 2018

On June 20, 2018 Karl was taken to United Hospital due to concerns over mobility and spacial perception issues. They went to the ER, had an MRI, and he was admitted. The results of the MRI show a 4cm mass on his right parietal lobe. A biopsy was performed two days later. We hope to know the results and treatment options this week, and will update as we get more information.

Newest Update

Journal entry by Rachel Stene

Today Dad would be 77. For his birthday, I'm sharing a letter written by Dad's best friend, Dave Wammer. Dave and his wife Barb are dear friends of our family, my brother Dan and I have known them and their sons our entire lives, and I'm honored to have his letter be the final post here.

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I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Karl is suddenly no longer with us. I think about him and I don’t know if I should weep or shout with joy (and I’ve done both).  My wife Barb and I are really disappointed we can’t be with you in this celebration of Karl’s life. As a result, you’ll have to listen to my ramblings being read.

So here’s the question – What are the odds that 48 years ago two Norwegian, Lutheran boys from Minnesota would become roommates in Vietnam?  I was a class ahead of Karl when we went to the Air Force rescue helicopter training school in Fort Walton Beach, Florida. It’s possible we may have seen each other, but never met.  I was supposed to go to Udorn in Thailand and Karl was going to Da Nang in Vietnam.  One of the stops everyone made on their way to Southeast Asia was jungle survival school in the Philippines. When I arrived and walked into the room for our 1st briefing, there was a message on a big chalk board that said “Wammer, you just thought you were going to Thailand.  Instead, you get to go to Da Nang by the sea.” At Da Nang, I first roomed with a pilot who had about a month left on his tour.  Shortly after he left, Karl arrived and was assigned as my roommate. And so it began!  Where are you from? Minnesota. Karl went to Augsburg, I went to St Olaf.  One of my freshman counselors was a friend from Karl’s home town. I knew Karl’s cousin, who was two years behind me in ROTC.

In our room, a countertop type board was suspended between two metal cabinets to serve as a desk. Above that was a shelf that a stereo system sat on. While our musical tastes were not the same, we didn’t object to each other’s music.  What definitely was different was the volume level we liked.  I wanted to fully hear all the sounds of the orchestra.  Karl would come into the room and reach over and turn the volume down. When he’d leave the room, I’d reach up and turn the volume back up.  Eventually, I would even turn it down when he came in.  But it was never an issue.  We were a fit.

 

I left Da Nang for Hill AFB Utah. Two months later, Karl and Dee came to Utah. From that point on, our families grew up together.  The hospital in Ogden was two blocks from our house.  We got a knock at the door and there was Karl, with kind of a glazed look, and finally he said “It’s a girl.” Rachel came into our lives as the only girl with our three boys and eventually her brother Daniel, so we got our daughter by proxy.  It was also in Utah that we became the Tree Trimmers (Karl’s term!). Karl was showing me a new remote area training site. I was flying and he warned me the trees were pretty close on one side, and sure enough I clipped one. Even though it was only minor damage to a rotor blade tip, it was still considered an incident. It was clearly my fault and everyone in the squadron knew it, but not from Karl. Because he was the aircraft commander for the flight, he took the hit.  He never tried to shift the blame, never gave me a hard time. It wasn’t an issue.

I went to Okinawa, Karl went to Albuquerque.  Then we both came to Scott AFB in Illinois. Because of a neighborhood housing development covenant, the house they were considering wasn’t allowed to have a garden in the yard. We had a large yard and I had tilled up an area that was clearly way more garden than we could possibly use or manage. The easy solution was a joint garden. That sealed the deal, they bought the house and we were living three blocks from each other.

We left for an assignment in Norway and on our return three years later were assigned to California. During that stretch, Karl retired and moved here in Minnesota.  Barb’s parents lived here in Roseville so the 1st time we came back to visit, we called Karl to find out his address.  Turned out, even on a bad traffic day, it was only about 10 minutes from her folk’s house. Planning trips back to Minnesota typically involved three phone calls - Barb’s parents (now superseded by our son living in Bloomington), my brother in Detroit Lakes, and Karl. As an aside, I do have to tell you Karl never met an Ice cream cone he didn’t like, particularly after a concert at Como or whatever other excuse we could use.  Again, it was a fit!

I don’t know how many lives Karl has affected through his teaching, mentoring, praying and just being Karl. But I know his ministry flourished here and the number he touched was significant. Karl asked me to write to a young cadet struggling with the decision to enter pilot training, whose dilemma was “Could he fly for the Air Force and still honor his faith.” My answer was “Yes you can. And if you want to see how to do this, the best advice I can give you is to read Ephesians 6:10-18 (Gird up your loins and put on the armor of God), then look at your mentor Karl, because he is the best example you could find on how to be a warrior Christian and consequently a Christian warrior.

I can’t tell you the last time I shook Karl’s hand. But I can tell you the last time I hugged or was hugged by Karl. It was going out the door the last time I saw him.  The oldest of our three sons is 48. All three grew up with Karl, and the hug that greeted them to say “you are a child of God and you are loved” and said good bye with the same message.  That never changed in 48 years. I also can’t tell you when we had an argument or angry word because in 48 years, we didn’t.

So how does all this rambling tie together?  I go back to my original question, “What are the odds?”  Thinking over these past 48 years, the answer to me became obvious. There weren’t any odds, because it was the start of a God plan. I don’t know, maybe He thought Karl needed someone to practice on and he had the perfect guy in mind, never thinking it would be a 48 year project. I do know that plan with Karl as a teacher, mentor, role model and friend has had a profound influence on my life.

Barb and I grieve and celebrate with Rachel, Daniel and their families, with Karl’s family, and with Eunice, who, by coincidence, we knew as an Associate Pastor at our church in California 20 years ago. (A coincidence? I don’t think so!)

My parents had two children, Michael and David. But in fact I've had two brothers for the past 48 years. Two weeks ago I lost my brother and my best friend. I loved him and I'll miss him terribly.

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