Obituary:
James Hanson Duckworth passed away peacefully after a long and happy life on 2 March 2011 in the home of his daughter. He leaves behind a legacy of faith and love to his wife and family of four children, Anne (Frank) Walters, Susan (Russell) Ence, James Stephen (Pat) Duckworth, and Jane (Gary) Jensen, as well as 23 grandchildren and 48 great-grand children.
Jim was born on 28 January, 1915 in Nampa, ID and adopted six months later by his parents, James and Elizabeth Hanson Duckworth. He had three siblings: Roxie [Estella Jensen] Duckworth Haws, Muriel [Annie Salena]Duckworth Atwood, and [Nathan]Rex Duckworth.
Jim is survived by his wife of 71 years, Rhea Jean Brown Duckworth, whom he married on 30 June 1939. He lived a life of faithful service to his God, his family and his country.
Jim served a full-time LDS mission to the Northwest States mission and later served a second full-time mission with his wife in the Arizona, Tempe mission. He has served in various LDS ward and stake positions, and sang in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir for 17 years.
As a young man, Jim served in the U.S. Army Air Corps and later worked as a civil servant at nearby Hill Air Force Base. We know it is only a temporary separation, but we, his family and friends, love him dearly and will miss him.
A viewing will be held in his honor on Friday, 4 March 2011 from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. at Russon Brothers Mortuary, 1941 North Main, Farmington, UT, and from 11:45 a.m.-12:45 p.m. prior to the funeral at 1:00 p.m., Saturday, 5 March 2011 at the LDS Chapel, 901 S. Mountain Road, Fruit Heights, UT. (Russon Brothers Mortuary)
The following is an excerpt from:
"ONE GRAIN OF SAND", Chapter 21, page 43 from the autobiography of Roxie Estella Jensen Duckworth Haws. (Oldest sister of Jimmy. She was also adopted by the Duckworth family, 13 March 1913 at the age of almost 11.)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE About the middle of February 1915, a very wonderful thing happened at our home. I was not quite thirteen years old at the time. Mother and Father had a young girl, Dollie Young, staying some of the time with us and helping with the work. They asked her to stay with us two girls while they went to Boise. They told us they would arrive home on the Saturday night train that came in around nine o’clock. We were to be sure and have a good fire burning in the kitchen stove. On Saturday night, it was raining and very wet and cold outside. When Mother came home, she walked straight into the kitchen. I could see that she had something up under her soft black plush coat. She sat down in a chair and undid the buttons. She had wrapped in a blanket the cutest little black-haired baby boy I had ever seen. She explained they got him from the orphan’s home in Boise and they were going to adopt him.
[Note: Muriel was adopted also when she was a baby. Her mother died at Muriel’s birth leaving nine children. She was taken into the Duckworth’s home immediately.]
I think the mother instinct in a little girl is bubbling over at high pitch when they are at the age I was. I couldn’t pull myself away from that baby. I just sat there huddled over him, stroking his cheek and tucking the blanket all around while he was asleep. The first time he made a cooing sound and smiled, it was an earth shaking event. Every day at school I’d tell all my friends about the marvelous, inconceivable things he would do. We named him James Hanson and, strange as it may seem, I now had two brothers named James and two fathers named James. (My baby brother, James, died before I was born. I will later on in my life have a half brother names James, too) I loved that baby so much that I would beg Mother to let me do everything for him. She saw what enjoyment I got out of it and realized it was good training for me, so would let me bathe him, wash his bottles, make the formula, feed and tend him. Mother slept in the same room with Jimmy at night, so she could get up and warm his milk, but I even begged her to let me do that. She let me try it one night and the next morning I told her he hadn’t cried once in the night and that I didn’t have to feed him at all. Mother laughed and said, “Not once? I was up with him four times; you better let me take care of him at night.”
The folks bought Jimmy one of those real large wicker buggies. After his bath, I would tenderly lay him in the buggy and wheel him out on the front porch in the sunshine and fresh air to sleep. I just loved to take him for a walk. Whenever Mother asked me to go downtown for something, I would scurry around and get him ready, then take him with me. We only lived three blocks from town. I even wheeled him to Sunday School and let him sleep out in the hall during opening exercises, and then pushed his buggy, like I owned the world, into my classroom.
We all just loved Jimmy. Everyone was always wanting to take a “bite” out of him and I was afraid he would get eaten up. He had a lot of dark, straight hair and we let him wear it Dutch cut. His eyes were snappy and dark brown, and I thought he was the cutest and smartest baby on this earth.
One time when he was about 18 months old, everybody was upstairs except Jimmy. He was downstairs in only his diaper. Mother suddenly realized he was too quiet and asked me to go downstairs and see what he was into. I rode the banister down and there he was perched right in the middle of the dining room table. He looked like such a darling, I felt like squeezing him ‘til he cried. He sat there with the sugar bowl between his legs and was spooning it out into his mouth and all over his feet. He had pushed a chair up to the table and climbed up there. He looked at me and smiled innocently, and in his baby talk said, “Goot Augu.” This meant “good sugar”.
He had one little quilted blanket that he had to have before he would go to sleep which he bunched up in his arms. One day when he was about two years old, I noticed him heading for the street. A car was coming at full speed. I dashed out and grabbed him, then turned quickly to dash back and we both went sprawling into the gutter. After that when we allowed him to go outside, we tied him up to a stake. I went to bed that night and cried myself to sleep, thinking that if ever my baby got run over, I would just die.
Mother remained home with him one Sunday while I went to Sunday School. As we were practicing the singing, I saw the big swinging door open slowly that was between the hall and chapel, and a small dark head peeked timidly around the corner and looked seriously over the audience. We lived just kiddy corner across the street from the Church and Jimmy decided to come looking for me. As soon as he saw where I was sitting, he shouted, “Hausie (That’s the way he said “Roxie”.) He pranced down the aisle and wiggled his way through the row of seats to where I was sitting. He climbed on my lap and threw his soft arms around my neck. I don’t think any mother could have loved their baby more than I did Jimmy. I secretly, when no one was around, called myself “mama” to him and he sometimes even yelled “mama” at me when he was excited and saw me coming home from school.
(Complete book in the possession of Sharon Haws Jewkes, daughter, the Sunflower Lady)
Note: Memorial of his sister, Roxie Estella Jensen (Duckworth by adoption) Haws #33087963.
James Hanson Duckworth passed away peacefully after a long and happy life on 2 March 2011 in the home of his daughter. He leaves behind a legacy of faith and love to his wife and family of four children, Anne (Frank) Walters, Susan (Russell) Ence, James Stephen (Pat) Duckworth, and Jane (Gary) Jensen, as well as 23 grandchildren and 48 great-grand children.
Jim was born on 28 January, 1915 in Nampa, ID and adopted six months later by his parents, James and Elizabeth Hanson Duckworth. He had three siblings: Roxie [Estella Jensen] Duckworth Haws, Muriel [Annie Salena]Duckworth Atwood, and [Nathan]Rex Duckworth.
Jim is survived by his wife of 71 years, Rhea Jean Brown Duckworth, whom he married on 30 June 1939. He lived a life of faithful service to his God, his family and his country.
Jim served a full-time LDS mission to the Northwest States mission and later served a second full-time mission with his wife in the Arizona, Tempe mission. He has served in various LDS ward and stake positions, and sang in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir for 17 years.
As a young man, Jim served in the U.S. Army Air Corps and later worked as a civil servant at nearby Hill Air Force Base. We know it is only a temporary separation, but we, his family and friends, love him dearly and will miss him.
A viewing will be held in his honor on Friday, 4 March 2011 from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. at Russon Brothers Mortuary, 1941 North Main, Farmington, UT, and from 11:45 a.m.-12:45 p.m. prior to the funeral at 1:00 p.m., Saturday, 5 March 2011 at the LDS Chapel, 901 S. Mountain Road, Fruit Heights, UT. (Russon Brothers Mortuary)
The following is an excerpt from:
"ONE GRAIN OF SAND", Chapter 21, page 43 from the autobiography of Roxie Estella Jensen Duckworth Haws. (Oldest sister of Jimmy. She was also adopted by the Duckworth family, 13 March 1913 at the age of almost 11.)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE About the middle of February 1915, a very wonderful thing happened at our home. I was not quite thirteen years old at the time. Mother and Father had a young girl, Dollie Young, staying some of the time with us and helping with the work. They asked her to stay with us two girls while they went to Boise. They told us they would arrive home on the Saturday night train that came in around nine o’clock. We were to be sure and have a good fire burning in the kitchen stove. On Saturday night, it was raining and very wet and cold outside. When Mother came home, she walked straight into the kitchen. I could see that she had something up under her soft black plush coat. She sat down in a chair and undid the buttons. She had wrapped in a blanket the cutest little black-haired baby boy I had ever seen. She explained they got him from the orphan’s home in Boise and they were going to adopt him.
[Note: Muriel was adopted also when she was a baby. Her mother died at Muriel’s birth leaving nine children. She was taken into the Duckworth’s home immediately.]
I think the mother instinct in a little girl is bubbling over at high pitch when they are at the age I was. I couldn’t pull myself away from that baby. I just sat there huddled over him, stroking his cheek and tucking the blanket all around while he was asleep. The first time he made a cooing sound and smiled, it was an earth shaking event. Every day at school I’d tell all my friends about the marvelous, inconceivable things he would do. We named him James Hanson and, strange as it may seem, I now had two brothers named James and two fathers named James. (My baby brother, James, died before I was born. I will later on in my life have a half brother names James, too) I loved that baby so much that I would beg Mother to let me do everything for him. She saw what enjoyment I got out of it and realized it was good training for me, so would let me bathe him, wash his bottles, make the formula, feed and tend him. Mother slept in the same room with Jimmy at night, so she could get up and warm his milk, but I even begged her to let me do that. She let me try it one night and the next morning I told her he hadn’t cried once in the night and that I didn’t have to feed him at all. Mother laughed and said, “Not once? I was up with him four times; you better let me take care of him at night.”
The folks bought Jimmy one of those real large wicker buggies. After his bath, I would tenderly lay him in the buggy and wheel him out on the front porch in the sunshine and fresh air to sleep. I just loved to take him for a walk. Whenever Mother asked me to go downtown for something, I would scurry around and get him ready, then take him with me. We only lived three blocks from town. I even wheeled him to Sunday School and let him sleep out in the hall during opening exercises, and then pushed his buggy, like I owned the world, into my classroom.
We all just loved Jimmy. Everyone was always wanting to take a “bite” out of him and I was afraid he would get eaten up. He had a lot of dark, straight hair and we let him wear it Dutch cut. His eyes were snappy and dark brown, and I thought he was the cutest and smartest baby on this earth.
One time when he was about 18 months old, everybody was upstairs except Jimmy. He was downstairs in only his diaper. Mother suddenly realized he was too quiet and asked me to go downstairs and see what he was into. I rode the banister down and there he was perched right in the middle of the dining room table. He looked like such a darling, I felt like squeezing him ‘til he cried. He sat there with the sugar bowl between his legs and was spooning it out into his mouth and all over his feet. He had pushed a chair up to the table and climbed up there. He looked at me and smiled innocently, and in his baby talk said, “Goot Augu.” This meant “good sugar”.
He had one little quilted blanket that he had to have before he would go to sleep which he bunched up in his arms. One day when he was about two years old, I noticed him heading for the street. A car was coming at full speed. I dashed out and grabbed him, then turned quickly to dash back and we both went sprawling into the gutter. After that when we allowed him to go outside, we tied him up to a stake. I went to bed that night and cried myself to sleep, thinking that if ever my baby got run over, I would just die.
Mother remained home with him one Sunday while I went to Sunday School. As we were practicing the singing, I saw the big swinging door open slowly that was between the hall and chapel, and a small dark head peeked timidly around the corner and looked seriously over the audience. We lived just kiddy corner across the street from the Church and Jimmy decided to come looking for me. As soon as he saw where I was sitting, he shouted, “Hausie (That’s the way he said “Roxie”.) He pranced down the aisle and wiggled his way through the row of seats to where I was sitting. He climbed on my lap and threw his soft arms around my neck. I don’t think any mother could have loved their baby more than I did Jimmy. I secretly, when no one was around, called myself “mama” to him and he sometimes even yelled “mama” at me when he was excited and saw me coming home from school.
(Complete book in the possession of Sharon Haws Jewkes, daughter, the Sunflower Lady)
Note: Memorial of his sister, Roxie Estella Jensen (Duckworth by adoption) Haws #33087963.
Obituary:
James Hanson Duckworth passed away peacefully after a long and happy life on 2 March 2011 in the home of his daughter. He leaves behind a legacy of faith and love to his wife and family of four children, Anne (Frank) Walters, Susan (Russell) Ence, James Stephen (Pat) Duckworth, and Jane (Gary) Jensen, as well as 23 grandchildren and 48 great-grand children.
Jim was born on 28 January, 1915 in Nampa, ID and adopted six months later by his parents, James and Elizabeth Hanson Duckworth. He had three siblings: Roxie [Estella Jensen] Duckworth Haws, Muriel [Annie Salena]Duckworth Atwood, and [Nathan]Rex Duckworth.
Jim is survived by his wife of 71 years, Rhea Jean Brown Duckworth, whom he married on 30 June 1939. He lived a life of faithful service to his God, his family and his country.
Jim served a full-time LDS mission to the Northwest States mission and later served a second full-time mission with his wife in the Arizona, Tempe mission. He has served in various LDS ward and stake positions, and sang in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir for 17 years.
As a young man, Jim served in the U.S. Army Air Corps and later worked as a civil servant at nearby Hill Air Force Base. We know it is only a temporary separation, but we, his family and friends, love him dearly and will miss him.
A viewing will be held in his honor on Friday, 4 March 2011 from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. at Russon Brothers Mortuary, 1941 North Main, Farmington, UT, and from 11:45 a.m.-12:45 p.m. prior to the funeral at 1:00 p.m., Saturday, 5 March 2011 at the LDS Chapel, 901 S. Mountain Road, Fruit Heights, UT. (Russon Brothers Mortuary)
The following is an excerpt from:
"ONE GRAIN OF SAND", Chapter 21, page 43 from the autobiography of Roxie Estella Jensen Duckworth Haws. (Oldest sister of Jimmy. She was also adopted by the Duckworth family, 13 March 1913 at the age of almost 11.)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE About the middle of February 1915, a very wonderful thing happened at our home. I was not quite thirteen years old at the time. Mother and Father had a young girl, Dollie Young, staying some of the time with us and helping with the work. They asked her to stay with us two girls while they went to Boise. They told us they would arrive home on the Saturday night train that came in around nine o’clock. We were to be sure and have a good fire burning in the kitchen stove. On Saturday night, it was raining and very wet and cold outside. When Mother came home, she walked straight into the kitchen. I could see that she had something up under her soft black plush coat. She sat down in a chair and undid the buttons. She had wrapped in a blanket the cutest little black-haired baby boy I had ever seen. She explained they got him from the orphan’s home in Boise and they were going to adopt him.
[Note: Muriel was adopted also when she was a baby. Her mother died at Muriel’s birth leaving nine children. She was taken into the Duckworth’s home immediately.]
I think the mother instinct in a little girl is bubbling over at high pitch when they are at the age I was. I couldn’t pull myself away from that baby. I just sat there huddled over him, stroking his cheek and tucking the blanket all around while he was asleep. The first time he made a cooing sound and smiled, it was an earth shaking event. Every day at school I’d tell all my friends about the marvelous, inconceivable things he would do. We named him James Hanson and, strange as it may seem, I now had two brothers named James and two fathers named James. (My baby brother, James, died before I was born. I will later on in my life have a half brother names James, too) I loved that baby so much that I would beg Mother to let me do everything for him. She saw what enjoyment I got out of it and realized it was good training for me, so would let me bathe him, wash his bottles, make the formula, feed and tend him. Mother slept in the same room with Jimmy at night, so she could get up and warm his milk, but I even begged her to let me do that. She let me try it one night and the next morning I told her he hadn’t cried once in the night and that I didn’t have to feed him at all. Mother laughed and said, “Not once? I was up with him four times; you better let me take care of him at night.”
The folks bought Jimmy one of those real large wicker buggies. After his bath, I would tenderly lay him in the buggy and wheel him out on the front porch in the sunshine and fresh air to sleep. I just loved to take him for a walk. Whenever Mother asked me to go downtown for something, I would scurry around and get him ready, then take him with me. We only lived three blocks from town. I even wheeled him to Sunday School and let him sleep out in the hall during opening exercises, and then pushed his buggy, like I owned the world, into my classroom.
We all just loved Jimmy. Everyone was always wanting to take a “bite” out of him and I was afraid he would get eaten up. He had a lot of dark, straight hair and we let him wear it Dutch cut. His eyes were snappy and dark brown, and I thought he was the cutest and smartest baby on this earth.
One time when he was about 18 months old, everybody was upstairs except Jimmy. He was downstairs in only his diaper. Mother suddenly realized he was too quiet and asked me to go downstairs and see what he was into. I rode the banister down and there he was perched right in the middle of the dining room table. He looked like such a darling, I felt like squeezing him ‘til he cried. He sat there with the sugar bowl between his legs and was spooning it out into his mouth and all over his feet. He had pushed a chair up to the table and climbed up there. He looked at me and smiled innocently, and in his baby talk said, “Goot Augu.” This meant “good sugar”.
He had one little quilted blanket that he had to have before he would go to sleep which he bunched up in his arms. One day when he was about two years old, I noticed him heading for the street. A car was coming at full speed. I dashed out and grabbed him, then turned quickly to dash back and we both went sprawling into the gutter. After that when we allowed him to go outside, we tied him up to a stake. I went to bed that night and cried myself to sleep, thinking that if ever my baby got run over, I would just die.
Mother remained home with him one Sunday while I went to Sunday School. As we were practicing the singing, I saw the big swinging door open slowly that was between the hall and chapel, and a small dark head peeked timidly around the corner and looked seriously over the audience. We lived just kiddy corner across the street from the Church and Jimmy decided to come looking for me. As soon as he saw where I was sitting, he shouted, “Hausie (That’s the way he said “Roxie”.) He pranced down the aisle and wiggled his way through the row of seats to where I was sitting. He climbed on my lap and threw his soft arms around my neck. I don’t think any mother could have loved their baby more than I did Jimmy. I secretly, when no one was around, called myself “mama” to him and he sometimes even yelled “mama” at me when he was excited and saw me coming home from school.
(Complete book in the possession of Sharon Haws Jewkes, daughter, the Sunflower Lady)
Note: Memorial of his sister, Roxie Estella Jensen (Duckworth by adoption) Haws #33087963.
James Hanson Duckworth passed away peacefully after a long and happy life on 2 March 2011 in the home of his daughter. He leaves behind a legacy of faith and love to his wife and family of four children, Anne (Frank) Walters, Susan (Russell) Ence, James Stephen (Pat) Duckworth, and Jane (Gary) Jensen, as well as 23 grandchildren and 48 great-grand children.
Jim was born on 28 January, 1915 in Nampa, ID and adopted six months later by his parents, James and Elizabeth Hanson Duckworth. He had three siblings: Roxie [Estella Jensen] Duckworth Haws, Muriel [Annie Salena]Duckworth Atwood, and [Nathan]Rex Duckworth.
Jim is survived by his wife of 71 years, Rhea Jean Brown Duckworth, whom he married on 30 June 1939. He lived a life of faithful service to his God, his family and his country.
Jim served a full-time LDS mission to the Northwest States mission and later served a second full-time mission with his wife in the Arizona, Tempe mission. He has served in various LDS ward and stake positions, and sang in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir for 17 years.
As a young man, Jim served in the U.S. Army Air Corps and later worked as a civil servant at nearby Hill Air Force Base. We know it is only a temporary separation, but we, his family and friends, love him dearly and will miss him.
A viewing will be held in his honor on Friday, 4 March 2011 from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. at Russon Brothers Mortuary, 1941 North Main, Farmington, UT, and from 11:45 a.m.-12:45 p.m. prior to the funeral at 1:00 p.m., Saturday, 5 March 2011 at the LDS Chapel, 901 S. Mountain Road, Fruit Heights, UT. (Russon Brothers Mortuary)
The following is an excerpt from:
"ONE GRAIN OF SAND", Chapter 21, page 43 from the autobiography of Roxie Estella Jensen Duckworth Haws. (Oldest sister of Jimmy. She was also adopted by the Duckworth family, 13 March 1913 at the age of almost 11.)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE About the middle of February 1915, a very wonderful thing happened at our home. I was not quite thirteen years old at the time. Mother and Father had a young girl, Dollie Young, staying some of the time with us and helping with the work. They asked her to stay with us two girls while they went to Boise. They told us they would arrive home on the Saturday night train that came in around nine o’clock. We were to be sure and have a good fire burning in the kitchen stove. On Saturday night, it was raining and very wet and cold outside. When Mother came home, she walked straight into the kitchen. I could see that she had something up under her soft black plush coat. She sat down in a chair and undid the buttons. She had wrapped in a blanket the cutest little black-haired baby boy I had ever seen. She explained they got him from the orphan’s home in Boise and they were going to adopt him.
[Note: Muriel was adopted also when she was a baby. Her mother died at Muriel’s birth leaving nine children. She was taken into the Duckworth’s home immediately.]
I think the mother instinct in a little girl is bubbling over at high pitch when they are at the age I was. I couldn’t pull myself away from that baby. I just sat there huddled over him, stroking his cheek and tucking the blanket all around while he was asleep. The first time he made a cooing sound and smiled, it was an earth shaking event. Every day at school I’d tell all my friends about the marvelous, inconceivable things he would do. We named him James Hanson and, strange as it may seem, I now had two brothers named James and two fathers named James. (My baby brother, James, died before I was born. I will later on in my life have a half brother names James, too) I loved that baby so much that I would beg Mother to let me do everything for him. She saw what enjoyment I got out of it and realized it was good training for me, so would let me bathe him, wash his bottles, make the formula, feed and tend him. Mother slept in the same room with Jimmy at night, so she could get up and warm his milk, but I even begged her to let me do that. She let me try it one night and the next morning I told her he hadn’t cried once in the night and that I didn’t have to feed him at all. Mother laughed and said, “Not once? I was up with him four times; you better let me take care of him at night.”
The folks bought Jimmy one of those real large wicker buggies. After his bath, I would tenderly lay him in the buggy and wheel him out on the front porch in the sunshine and fresh air to sleep. I just loved to take him for a walk. Whenever Mother asked me to go downtown for something, I would scurry around and get him ready, then take him with me. We only lived three blocks from town. I even wheeled him to Sunday School and let him sleep out in the hall during opening exercises, and then pushed his buggy, like I owned the world, into my classroom.
We all just loved Jimmy. Everyone was always wanting to take a “bite” out of him and I was afraid he would get eaten up. He had a lot of dark, straight hair and we let him wear it Dutch cut. His eyes were snappy and dark brown, and I thought he was the cutest and smartest baby on this earth.
One time when he was about 18 months old, everybody was upstairs except Jimmy. He was downstairs in only his diaper. Mother suddenly realized he was too quiet and asked me to go downstairs and see what he was into. I rode the banister down and there he was perched right in the middle of the dining room table. He looked like such a darling, I felt like squeezing him ‘til he cried. He sat there with the sugar bowl between his legs and was spooning it out into his mouth and all over his feet. He had pushed a chair up to the table and climbed up there. He looked at me and smiled innocently, and in his baby talk said, “Goot Augu.” This meant “good sugar”.
He had one little quilted blanket that he had to have before he would go to sleep which he bunched up in his arms. One day when he was about two years old, I noticed him heading for the street. A car was coming at full speed. I dashed out and grabbed him, then turned quickly to dash back and we both went sprawling into the gutter. After that when we allowed him to go outside, we tied him up to a stake. I went to bed that night and cried myself to sleep, thinking that if ever my baby got run over, I would just die.
Mother remained home with him one Sunday while I went to Sunday School. As we were practicing the singing, I saw the big swinging door open slowly that was between the hall and chapel, and a small dark head peeked timidly around the corner and looked seriously over the audience. We lived just kiddy corner across the street from the Church and Jimmy decided to come looking for me. As soon as he saw where I was sitting, he shouted, “Hausie (That’s the way he said “Roxie”.) He pranced down the aisle and wiggled his way through the row of seats to where I was sitting. He climbed on my lap and threw his soft arms around my neck. I don’t think any mother could have loved their baby more than I did Jimmy. I secretly, when no one was around, called myself “mama” to him and he sometimes even yelled “mama” at me when he was excited and saw me coming home from school.
(Complete book in the possession of Sharon Haws Jewkes, daughter, the Sunflower Lady)
Note: Memorial of his sister, Roxie Estella Jensen (Duckworth by adoption) Haws #33087963.
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