Tag Archives: Sun Prairie

‘Play Me One More Song That I’ll Always Remember’

Song has the power to totally capture a memory or preserve a time in life that is worth remembering. Everyone most likely has a song that transports them back in time and helps them relive a painful, sweet or wistful memory. Music is truly the thread that stitches together the sometimes-ragged patches of our lives.

This was quite powerfully the case during the last weeks of my mother’s life in December 2018. The title song from Kenny Loggins’ debut solo album, Celebrate Me Home, became the anthem for the walk I made to see my mother off to Heaven. Just the first few twinkling notes on the piano are enough to bring me back, and draw bittersweet tears from my eyes. Every time.

“Play me one more song that I’ll always remember.”

I often listened to CDs on my drive each evening to the Brookdale Senior Living care center where Mom spent her final months. One of my favorites was Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow, a compendium of greatest hits by Kenny Loggins. The first time I heard Track 14, Celebrate Me Home, I sensed it was previewing the events that would soon unfold, leading up to Mom’s death at age 86.

Mom holding Ruby Hanneman, flanked by cousins Samantha and Abby Hanneman.

Each night after Mom fell asleep watching television, I would quietly slip out and make the 10-minute drive home. Many times I played that CD. Celebrate Me Home always  put a lump in my throat. I could sense a little more every day that Mom was moving closer to her eternal home.

Please, celebrate me home
Give me a number
Please, celebrate me home
Play me one more song
That I’ll always remember

In the early morning hours of Dec. 27, 2018, this song overwhelmed me on my drive home. Searing tears made it hard to see the road. Mom had passed away two hours prior, just before midnight on Dec. 26. (I wrote about that elsewhere on this site.)

As I pulled up to the  stoplight at Broadway Drive and Highway 19, the lyrics hit me in a way they hadn’t before. Celebrate. Home. Beyond the grief was the reality that Mom’s going home was a cause for celebration. No doubt all of Heaven celebrated that night, for she entered eternity free from pain, sickness and the worries of this world. Just one day beyond Christmas, her favorite holiday.

Home for the holidays
I believe I’ve missed each and every face
Come on and play one easy
Let’s turn on every love light in the place
It’s time I found myself
Totally surrounded in your circles
Oh my friends
Please, celebrate me home…

For many months after Mom’s funeral, I could not listen to the Kenny Loggins CD. That song. It was seared into my brain like the work of a branding iron. Too painful. But eventually I found myself listening again. Now I could see through the pain, and felt the hope and joy in the melody and lyrics. Celebrate, celebrate. Celebrate me home.

Play me one more song
That I’ll always remember
I can recall whenever I
Find myself too all alone
I can sing me — home

I am forever grateful for the incredible talent that went into making Celebrate Me Home. It will always be atop my all-time play list. Until that one day when others might sing this beautiful song to celebrate me home. •

– Listen to a sample at the iTunes Store. 

– Watch a live rendition below from Kenny Loggins at The Grand Canyon

A Card & Letter for Your First Birthday, June 1965

Handwritten letters are a lost art, so it was particularly thrilling to find one inside a card  from my paternal grandparents, Carl and Ruby Hanneman, sent for my first birthday in June 1965.

My grandmother was a prolific letter writer, note scribbler and update scrivener. She wrote in a stream of consciousness.  Sentences didn’t always have punctuation and could stretch on for half a page. But she captured details that might slip past a less-careful correspondent. Like exactly what time on Tuesday she and Grandpa Carl got their car back from Floyd “Snuffy” Clark at the auto body shop.

Unlike a photograph, a personal letter brings out the writer’s personality. Reading the note in the birthday card, I could almost hear my grandparents voices. They switched off writing in the card. Grandpa went first, telling how Grandma loved the birthday card and money sent by my parents. Then Grandma Ruby took over and provided a full update on the happenings on Morris Street in Mauston, Wis.

Enjoy.

June 27th, 1964

Dear Little Baby Joey, 

The little sweetheart — one year old! Grandpa Carl and I send our love with big hugs and kisses to you — God blesses always Baby Joey —  love, love, love from Grandpa Carl and Grandma Ruby xxxxx

Dear Baby Joey & Little David, Little Lori & Mama Mary and Daddy David:

Grandpa: Ruby got her beautiful birthday card and money from all of you and she wants to say thank all of you so much — it was too much after all the others you have given me —

Grandpa wants me to go to Carpenter’s now to eat it is 7:30 p.m. & bad storm warning out & it’s thundering now. 

Ruby Hanneman crammed information into every spare inch of the birthday card.

Grandpa Carl had a nice Father’s Day — we stayed home and we ate at Noneng’s new restaurant — he got nice cards and things, too, and it was stormy bad weather then, too. David we got your nice letter & the check — Dad destroyed the other one. Pretty soon will have you all hear (sic) again. I think I will go to Aunt Emma this week. Donn is driving Tom, Jane & Mary Ellen on July 3rd. I go back on Sunday. The youngsters will stay here & at Lavonne’s for several weeks.

I called Marvin’s, talked to Mabel — I am not going to Aunt Emma’s this week. Marv is taking a week of his vacation & they leave Fri. a.m. for Tomahawk — so that upsets my plans. Now I won’t be able to go until later in July.

Mary is to have planter warts treated on bottom of feet 1st and 2nd of July. They had planned to come this Sat. & with my planning to go to Arpin we changed it. Now I wish they would come sooner.

Ruby and Carl with Baby Joe Hanneman at his 1964 baptism.

There was a big extra addition on Parade of Homes in Mad. Sun. paper for open house. 15th annual Mad. Parade of Homes from June 20th thru June 27th on Madison’s far west side. I hope David knows about it by now. I have the booklet saved for him whenever he comes this week. [Nota bene: I believe we were still living in Grand Rapids, Mich., in June 1965, but would soon move to a house on Lake Wisconsin. This was shortly before construction began on my parents home in Sun Prairie, Wis.]

Dad has been feeling much better. Mr. Clark (Snuffy) had the car Mon. & fixed all the rust spots & put new chrome on front — we got it back Tues 22nd at 4:00 p.m.

Thurs. a.m. 24th:

Dad drove to Camp Douglas & Hustler this a.m. to solicit more ads — he wants to go to Necedah tomorrow a.m. [Nota bene: Carl helped put together the printed guide for the Juneau County Fair. One of his duties was ad sales.]

Mary I keep thinking about your Mom. I hope and pray she is getting along nicely & eyesight will be helped.

First birthday, June 1965, with one big candle. At left is Laura (Mulqueen) Curzon and the frosting thief is none other than David C. Hanneman.

How are our three little cherubs? I really did miss them and Grandpa did too. He felt badly because he had to be in bed so much while they were here. They are little loves and we enjoyed all of them so. David wrote that Little David asked about us. How does Baby Joey manage in the little walker? If the back wheels rotated like the front ones do, I bet he would really walk soon.

Have some birthday cake for us & we will be singing Happy Birthday to Joey here — all love & XXXes to all. 

Dad & Mom xx


Top Image: The front of the birthday card at left, with a photo of Carl and Ruby Hanneman from around 1960.

©2020 The Hanneman Archive

Happy 47th Birthday from Grandpa Carl Hanneman

I just love this image. Back in 2007 I was photographing a variety of things from Mom and Dad’s house, at my mother’s request. I came across this birthday card from October 1979. It was from my grandfather, Carl F. Hanneman, to my Mom, on her 47th birthday.

Carl F. Hanneman (1901-1982)

What I found touching was that Grandpa Carl still sent a little cash gift to a daughter-in-law who was nearly 50. He signed the card “Grandpa” even though he was her father-in-law. I loved that my mother never cashed the check — not wanting Carl to spend the money from his very fixed income. She kept the card and the check. Precious.

It’s funny how these memories pop up so unexpectedly. I saw this photo two days ago while searching for something totally unrelated. Mom has been gone to Heaven for 18 months. Grandpa Carl for 38 years. Yet finding this photo brings them right back to me, just as if this card were received earlier today.

©2020 The Hanneman Archive

A Mother Dearly Missed, One Year Later

As I pulled my car into the darkened Sacred Hearts cemetery earlier this week, I noticed something remarkable. The cemetery was dotted by lights, even in the depths of winter darkness. So I felt right at home, as I had come to place a candle at the grave of my mother, Mary K. Hanneman. 

Mom left us at 11:49 p.m. on Dec. 26, 2018. That moment remains forever suspended in time for me. Her final moment reminded me in many ways of the birth of my three children. As soon as they entered the world, there was a moment before the first breath; a moment of anticipation. Time stopped and eternity intervened. This was so similar for the end of Mom’s life. With her last breath drawn and exhaled, there was also tremendous anticipation. Time stopped. Only I didn’t get to see her first moment in eternity. Although I knew it by faith.

Mom was a woman of great Catholic faith. She always arrived early at Saturday 5 p.m. Mass at Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary Catholic Church in order to pray the Rosary. She was always in touch with her prayer life. On any occasions that one of us needed extra prayers, Mom was on the phone to the good sisters at the Sacred Hearts convent. Much grace flowed from those prayers — great examples of persevering faith. In her final weeks and days, Mom knew where she was going. The night she died she sat up in bed and looked off into the distance with a look of wonderment. She knew. She saw.

We waited more than an hour at the beginning of a new day for her death to be officially declared. That could not be done until a hospice nurse arrived to check for a pulse. After she recorded the legal time of death (as inaccurate as it was), the nurse related some of her experiences at the bedsides of dying patients. She talked of the bodies of the recently deceased giving off smells. At first I thought of something unpleasant, but she quickly clarified these were good scents, like roses.

IMG_9682
Mom a number of years ago with another type of candle, celebrating the September birthday of her granddaughter Samantha.

As I pondered that notion, I looked around Mom’s small room at the Brookdale care center. I felt for a moment like someone unseen walked past me. I smelled a scent that I cannot accurately describe. It was not roses, or flowers at all. It was the most pure, clean scent I ever experienced. The closest descriptor would be a citrus smell. I looked around the room and in the hall to see if someone was using a cleaning chemical. Nothing. Then it was gone. I remarked to the nurse about it. “Did you smell that?” I said. I tried to describe it. “You see!” she replied. Then just as quickly as it left, the scent returned. It was powerful and amazingly present. I felt there was something well beyond a mere olfactory manifestation at work. What is that?

After perhaps five minutes of this scent permeating the room, it disappeared. Gone with no lingering trace. I was quite struck by it all; unsure if I had imagined it. Over the coming days and weeks, I pondered the experience. Could the presence of angels leave a heavenly scent behind? I’d often read about the bodies of saints giving off what is called the odor of sanctity, but this was typically a floral smell. I searched the internet, but could not find anything that described what happened in Mom’s room that night.

I turned to my friend Steve Ray, a Catholic filmmaker, author and great teacher of the faith. He did not hesitate. “God gives graces to those who love him,” he wrote. “It seems like a great grace was bestowed on you in the death of both of your parents.”

Steve recalled my description of my Dad’s death in my 2010 book, The Journey Home. How even after Dad died and was silent, he returned long enough to mouth the word “love” three times. I never thought I would have another experience so profound. Until Mom left us. It was so very different, but just as impactful. Mom’s final gift.

It took me a full year to be able to write about it. I knew it would be impossible to accurately describe what happened. What words could convey the depth of what I experienced? Surely writing about it would be almost a disservice, since words on a computer screen simply would not suffice. But it seems a gift like that should be shared, so I do my best in writing this post.

IMG_0364
“And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.” —John 1:5

I thought about all of this as I placed the battery-powered candle at the graveside. I asked Mom and Dad to pray for me and my family.  I looked around the darkened cemetery again and was impressed with the flickering of candles and the glow of lighted wreaths at the graves of dozens of souls. “Look at all of these lights in the world, still with us,” I thought. As I walked back to my car, I said a prayer of thanks for the lives of everyone buried there, amid my hope they are all with Christ in Heaven.

Just before I pulled away, I turned back to look at Mom and Dad’s headstone.

It was just a little light, but how it overcame the darkness. •

©2019 The Hanneman Archive

IMG_3761
Candles on Mom’s final birthday cake, Oct. 21, 2018.

 

Priest’s first-Mass chalice returned after 114 years

By Joseph M. Hanneman
Catholic World Report

SUN PRAIRIE, Wisconsin — After a journey of 114 years along a path that remains shrouded in mystery, the ornate gold chalice used by a young priest at his first Holy Mass has come back to his home parish just in time for Christmas.

Henry Joseph Kraus, who was known as Otto, was 22 years old when he said his first Mass at Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary Catholic Church on Sept. 7, 1905. He was ordained to the priesthood four days earlier by Archbishop Sebastian G. Messmer at St. Augustine Catholic Church in Milwaukee. 

Parishioners at Sacred Hearts gifted Kraus with a gold chalice, which held the Precious Blood at the Solemn High Mass said by the newly ordained Father Kraus. Along the outside of the foot of the chalice, the inscription reads: “In Memory of My First Mass September 7, 1905 — Presented by Sacred Hearts Congregation, Sun Prairie, Wis.”

Some 114 years and  three months later, the chalice was held up next to the rectory Christmas tree by Msgr. Duane Moellenberndt, pastor of Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary. “It’s a wonderful gift to the parish,” he said, reflecting on how such a precious, blessed artifact made its way back to Sun Prairie. “It’s a marvelous gift.”

FirstMass
The 1905 card for the first Mass of Rev. Otto Kraus at Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary Catholic Church. (Photos courtesy of Sacred Hearts/Mary Gehrmann)

Otto Kraus studied for the priesthood at St. Francis de Sales Seminary near Milwaukee, under its longtime rector, Msgr. Joseph Rainer. He went to the seminary just before the turn of the 20th century from his family’s 115-acre farm a few miles east of Sacred Hearts church. His parents, Engelbert and Emma Kraus, eventually sent two sons into the priesthood.

Otto was the only priest ordained in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee on Sunday, Sept. 3, 1905. The following Thursday, the new Fr. Kraus celebrated Solemn High Mass at Sacred Hearts, using the inscribed gold chalice to hold the Precious Blood of Christ. 

The chalice has engraved and extruded details on the foot, stem and node. The bowl has an engraved band halfway down from the lip. The foot of the chalice is hexagonal with slightly in-curved sides. The top of the foot features debossed images of vegetation. The foot is inscribed, but not with Fr. Kraus’ name; something that later presented a challenge in determining its original owner.

SacredHearts_1900s
Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary Catholic Church as it appeared in the early 1900s. The current church was built in 1921. (Photo courtesy of Sacred Hearts)

Atop the first-Mass remembrance cards given out that day were two scriptural references: “By the grace of God I am what I am” (1 Cor. 15:10), and “A priest forever” (Psalm 110:4). The bottom of the card read, “I will sacrifice to thee O Lord the sacrifice of praise” (Psalm 115:17). 

The Mass was just the joyous occasion the parish badly needed, coming just weeks after the sudden death of its longtime pastor, Rev. Alouis J. Kuehne. Father Kuehne, 48, had led the Sun Prairie parish since 1880. Otto Kraus served as sub-deacon for Kuehne’s Solemn Requiem Mass on Aug. 16, 1905. Also assisting at the Mass was Aloysius M. Gmeinder, a parishioner who lived on the farm immediately south of the Kraus property. Gmeinder was a year behind Kraus at St. Francis Seminary.

Moellenberndt said the current practice is for a seminarian to receive the chalice for his first Mass from family. “I don’t know if it was true in those years, but when I was ordained, typically your parents gave you the chalice,” he said. “So it’s important not only because of what it’s used for, but also because normally it’s your parents or your family that gives you the chalice that you use for your first Mass.”

Chalice_Foot
The chalice has a hexagonal foot with curved sides, accented with debossed artwork.  (CWR photo by Joseph M. Hanneman)

Father Kraus’ first assignment was at Holy Trinity Catholic Church, one of the oldest parishes in Milwaukee. After 18 months, he was named pastor of St. George Catholic Church near Sheboygan Falls, Wis. It’s not clear exactly how long his pastorate lasted, but ill health forced Fr. Kraus into a very early retirement. By mid-1910, he was back home on the family farm near Sun Prairie.

For nearly two decades, Fr. Kraus lived with his mother. After his father died in 1912, the family moved to Sun Prairie, settling in a home just a few blocks from Sacred Hearts. Monsignor Moellenberndt said it’s possible Fr. Kraus celebrated Masses at his home parish during those years, a practice followed by other retired priests over the decades.

BrothersKraus
Henry J. “Otto” Kraus and his younger brother, Aloysius, both became priests in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee. Both men are buried at Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary Catholic Cemetery.

After Fr. Kraus’ mother died in October 1926, he moved to Oshkosh, Wis., and became a resident at Alexian Brothers Hospital. That is where he died on Jan. 17, 1929. He was just 46. His younger brother, Rev. Aloysius P. Kraus, sang the Solemn Requiem Mass at Sacred Hearts on Jan. 21, 1929. Aloysius was ordained to the priesthood in 1912 and was pastor at St. Joseph Catholic Church in Waupun, Wis., at the time of his brother’s death. Father Otto suffered from goiter, an enlargement of the thyroid gland at the base of the neck, according to Mary Gehrmann, a longtime Sacred Hearts parishioner and grand-niece of the Krauses.

Chalice_FullView
The stem, node and bowl have detailed engraving. (CWR photo by Joseph M. Hanneman)

Monsignor Moellenberndt said it’s anyone’s guess what became of the chalice after Father Kraus’ death. In 2019, it was discovered in one of 40 boxes of materials donated to the Green Bay Diocesan Museum, located some 125 miles northeast of Sun Prairie. A museum staff member noticed the inscription on the chalice and contacted Sacred Hearts. Since there was no name with the inscription, they had to do some sleuthing. With help from the archives at the Archdiocese of Milwaukee, Moellenberndt determined that Fr. Otto Kraus was the owner of the chalice. Sacred Hearts parishioners Gary and Julia Hanson drove to Green Bay and brought the chalice back to Sun Prairie.

“The archivist in Green Bay said she’s happy that we found the priest that it belonged to and doubly happy that it has found its way back home,” Moellenberndt said. “So it’s wonderful to have it back, because this is where it came from. There’s that historical connection to the parish.”

Moellenberndt said once the chalice is polished, it will again be used in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. That could be the first time the chalice has been a part of Mass at Sacred Hearts since that 1905 Thursday when a brand new priest spoke these words and elevated it before the crucifix: Hæc quotiescúmque fecéritis in mei memóriam faciétis — “As often as ye shall do these things ye shall do them in memory of Me.”

(This story appeared on the Catholic World Report magazine web site on Dec. 24, 2019. The author’s family has been a part of Sacred Hearts parish since the early 1970s. His mother, Mary K. Hanneman, taught at Sacred Hearts school for nearly three decades.)

A Poem for Mary on Mother’s Day

My mother walked into the family room, looking almost sheepish, and said, “I want to show you something.” She was almost beaming as she got out a yellowed sheet of paper, folded into four panels, with a hand-written title on the cover: To Mary. It was evident that this paper, whatever it contained, was precious to her.

She held the document up to her heart and explained that my father had written it for her many years ago. She wanted me to know that they did have their moments of closeness that superseded any of the difficulties during nearly 50 years of marriage. And now, a couple of years removed from Dad’s 2007 death from lung cancer, Mom truly treasured a poem he penned back in the 1960s.

Poem
The paper was weathered, but the words were as impactful as the day they were written.

“Go ahead, read it!” she said, turning her head with tears in her eyes. And so I did.

To Mary

It has oft been said, “Please do not grieve.”

‘Tis far better to give than to receive.

And at this time of love and of cheer,

I think of all about me here.

The loving family with which I’m blest,

And know within, I’m not a guest.

That all about me is real and true,

That what I have is because of you.

Daily you give these gifts of love,

Of which I am recipient of.

And I wonder in my small way,

‘Dear Lord, how can I ever repay?’

This woman who is always ready,

to wipe a nose or wind a teddy?

Who at this time bears the gift of gifts,

A child of God sleeps within her midst.

A child who needs loving care,

To grow strong, to know what’s right and fair.

These few reasons and so many more,

Make it easy to see why I adore.

This woman, who is my wife,

Who will share with me throughout my life,

All the joys and troubles that we will face,

And put them in their proper place.

So I offer my gift at this time to you,

My deepest love, which indeed is not new. 

Needless to say, I was very touched. My father, despite his tremendous gifts in public speaking and dealing with people, found it difficult to express thoughts in writing. So this definitely came from the heart. Whenever he had a speech to give or a presentation before the Sun Prairie City Council or the Dane County Board of Supervisors, Dad wrote out a draft and Mom helped him polish it with structure and grammar. She was always the reading teacher!

I was tickled that she not only saved the poem, but seemed to get the same thrill as I’m sure she did upon first receiving it four decades earlier. This was a softer side of Mom we didn’t always see growing up, but which became a central part of her as the autumn years turned to winter. I photographed the card and gave it back to Mom, who put it away again for safekeeping.

I thought of the poem again shortly after Mom died in late December 2018. I was given the black-and-white photo atop this story to scan for Mom’s memorial video. I was struck by how young my parents looked, probably shortly after being married in August 1958. It was easy to see the sentiments of the poem in this photograph.

Dad, thank you for writing something that Mom treasured her entire adult life. And Mom, thanks for sharing it, and showing a side of you that you tried to keep hidden. As we observe the first Mother’s Day without you, we are heartened by the thought of you two, together in the company of the angels and saints. Happy Mother’s Day.

©2019 The Hanneman Archive

Just Saying Hello from Heaven (Updated!)

I heard the answering machine pick up a call in my office. Normally they are hangups or some robo-call, but I sensed this was different. I strained to hear what the woman was saying. It was clear it was something I needed to attend to, so I played back the message.

The caller was the owner of Suburban Studio in Sun Prairie, a portrait photography business that has been around for a long time. She had noticed my Mom’s obituary recently and realized she had a large, framed portrait of my late father from when he was mayor of Sun Prairie. The portrait hung in the studio for years as a sample of their work. She was calling to see if I would like it.

IMG_3152
This portrait of David D. Hanneman hung in Sun Prairie City Hall during his term as mayor.

I contacted her right away and made arrangements to pick up the portrait. She did not charge for the 16×20 inch print (although I did buy the frame it was in). When I stopped at the studio the next day to pick it up, I was really taken aback. Not just by the size of the  portrait, but the look of it. This was similar to the photo we used in Dad’s obituary in April 2007, but it was different. I stared at the image. Dad seemed so close and alive; almost as if he was about to speak. The studio owner agreed, saying the image had something about it. You almost sense the person is there in the room.

I kept racking my brain trying to think where I’d seen this photo before. Then it struck me. Dad used this photo in his literature when he ran for re-election in 2005. I vaguely recalled seeing his brochure back then and thinking this photo had a different quality.

IMG_0517
The Sun Prairie Star used the same photo in its editorial when Dad died in 2007.

I rarely believe in coincidences, so I chalk up this whole encounter to Divine Providence. It reminded me of the time I was sitting at my desk in my home office in Mount Pleasant in the early evening. I dozed off and was in and out in one of those semi-conscious sleep states. I was jolted awake though, by the sound of my father’s voice.

Hello? Are you there? Yes, it’s me. I’m still alive!

I sat upright and looked around the room. Where was his voice coming from? Dad kept talking and I recognized it as part of an oral history interview I did with him in November 2006. While we were recording in Dad’s room at St. Mary’s Hospital in Madison, he received a call on the cell phone from his brother, Donn (1926-2014). I have no idea how this recording started playing on my computer while I was half-asleep. My tears flowed freely though, as it seemed Dad was really speaking to me from Heaven. I will never forget that moment.

Listen to a portion of the oral history interview I did with Dad while he was being treated for lung cancer:

Now I have this beautiful portrait, a gift from Louise Floyd at Suburban Studio. I look at Dad’s expression and it, too, speaks to me. Funny, it seems to say just about the same thing as the recording from my computer. “I’m still here, son. I am alive!” 

UPDATE!! This will be a little hard to explain, but it brought more tears to my eyes. Yesterday I was at St. Mary of Pine Bluff Catholic Church shooting photographs. The main thing I photographed was the gold monstrance that holds the Blessed Sacrament for exposition and adoration. See my photo below. That holds the body, blood, soul and divinity of Jesus under the appearance of bread. When I was doing closeups, I kept noticing reflected colors in the glass of the monstrance. So I lined up my camera and shot a bunch of images. Later I sent one to Father Richard Heilman and told him to look at the reflection. I thought it looked like a veiled woman in blue.

When Fr. Heilman looked at that photo earlier today, not long before I published the first version of this article, he saw the reflection of a man in a suit and tie with glasses. When Father later read my post and saw Dad’s portrait, he said, “THAT’S THE MAN I SAW!” I saw the Blessed Virgin and he saw this very photo of my father. Let that sink in. What a blessed day this has been!

©2019 The Hanneman Archive
(This article has been updated to include an audio file with oral history)

IMG_1581sm
I shot this photo of the monstrance at St. Mary of Pine Bluff Catholic Church on May 3, 2019.
IMG_5831
I placed Dad’s portrait near what Fr. Richard Heilman calls my “God cave.”
T1026x768-00764
Suburban Studio took this picture of our family, circa 1972. Front row: Amy Hanneman Bozza and Marghi Hanneman. Middle: David C. Hanneman, Mary K. (Mulqueen) Hanneman, David D. Hanneman and Joe Hanneman. Back row: Laura Mulqueen Curzon.

Funeral Homily: “Hope Does Not Disappoint”

This homily was delivered on Jan. 5, 2019, during the Mass of Christian Burial for Mary K. Hanneman. Below the homily is a video of Msgr. Moellenberndt and the Rite of Committal at Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary Catholic Cemetery. Msgr. Duane also gave a wonderful homily at the funeral Mass for David D. Hanneman in April 2007.

By Monsignor Duane Moellenberndt

A sick man turned to his doctor as he was preparing to leave the examination room and said, “Doctor, I am afraid to die.  Tell me what lies on the other side.”  Very quietly, the doctor said, “I don’t know…”  “You don’t know?  You are a Christian man and don’t know what’s on the other side?” the man said to the doctor.  The doctor was holding the handle of the door; on the other side came a sound of scratching and whining and so the doctor opened the door.  A dog sprang into the room and leaped on the doctor with an eager show of gladness.  Turning to the patient, the doctor said, “Did you notice my dog?  He didn’t know what was on the other side of the door.  He knew nothing except that his master was here.  And when the door opened, he sprang in without fear.  I know little of what is on the other side of death.  However, I do know one thing…I know my Master is there and that is enough.”

Mary chose the Gospel for her funeral — John 1: 1-14, also known as the “Last Gospel.”

I think Mary who certainly loved dogs most especially her companion of 10 years Chewy would relate to this story.  In the nursing home Mary even had treats in her room for dogs that would be brought to visit patients.   As a woman of faith, I believe that when the door opened to eternity for Mary on December 26th that Mary believed with all her heart that her Master Jesus Christ would be on the other side.  Our faith promises this to be true.  How happy Mary must now be to live in the Presence of the Lord reunited with Dave and all those who preceded her into eternity.  The Gospel I just proclaimed was Mary’s favorite.  In fact, she called it her “Confirmation of Faith.”  The Gospel began, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God…All things came to be through him.”  It is this Eternal Word, this eternal God whom Mary met face to face on the 26th of December.  What an awesome encounter.   Joe wrote that Mary in her final earthly hour opened her eyes.  She lifted her head, looked at something.  Mary tried to speak.  Mary had a sense of awe on her face.  Mary we did believe at that point glimpse heaven—she was entering eternity.  Certainly after the last difficult years it was time for Mary to find peace, health and eternal happiness.  Thus we believe has happened for Mary.  As the Book of Ecclesiastes our first reading said, “There is an appointed time for everything…a time to be born, and a time to die.”

Mary with her beloved companion Chewie (or Chewy), a faithful Yorkshire terrier.

Mary loved to sit in the driveway on a lawn chair or sit on her front porch just talking to people as they went by the family home that Mary so loved.  She loved the visits of the mailman who stopped to see Chewy each day.  It gave Mary an opportunity to talk with the mailman.  Yes, Mary loved people and interacting with people.  We can only imagine her joy in all the new people she is encountering in eternity.  The Book of Ecclesiastes said, “There is an appointed time for everything and a time for every affair under the heavens….A time to be silent, and a time to speak.”  Mary knew the importance of speaking and being with people.  People gravitated to Mary because they knew she genuinely had an interest in them and their lives.  That is why every visitor was always welcomed to her home with a bit of tea and bread or some other treat.  Mary made people feel welcome. 

Caring for the family was a joy of Mary’s life.  She showed her love for family in so many ways be that the great birthday meals or special Christmas mornings.  Isn’t it interesting it was on the day after Christmas that Mary died?   When the nurse told Mary that it was almost Christmas, Mary simply smiled and said, “I love Christmas.”  She was here in this life for Christmas but then entered eternity.  In this Christmas season we believe Mary is with the Lord. In this Christmas Season we celebrate Mary’s Mass of Christian Burial.  The Gospel said, “And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.”  Mary believed Jesus Christ the Word of God always dwelt with her in this life and now Mary dwells with the Lord in eternity.   How joyous must be Christmas in heaven.

Mary received a snazzy blue pair of sneakers for her 85th birthday from daughter Marghi.
Mary’s colorful sneakers were always a topic of conversation.

Mary had a fun side.  She even one year with a couple of family members toilet-papered a neighbor’s yard on Christmas Eve.  She so loved colorful tennis shoes.  Perhaps that is why she enjoyed the Silver Sneakers exercise group so much.  Her trip to Ireland with her three sisters was a joy for all of them.  Yes, Mary enjoyed life and now we believe that joy is multiplied many times over in eternity.  How happy Mary must be.   As Ecclesiastes said, “There is an appointed time for everything….A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.”

Mary enjoyed cooking and baking.  She always had a sit down dinner.  She enjoyed having people at her home to play cards.  Mary didn’t play cards much but it gave her an opportunity to prepare dinner.  Mary was a gardener.  One of her special treats was her homemade jam that was always present to be enjoyed.  St. Paul wrote to the Romans in our second reading, “Hope does not disappoint.”  Mary was a woman of hope—hope in the promises of the Lord, hope in other people.  It was that hope that led Mary to always think of others before herself.  Mary was all about doing for family and friends to bring them happiness.  I am sure from eternity Mary will continue to pray for us.  Pray for Mary that she pass quickly from Purgatory to the fullness of life with God in heaven.  

Mary was first and foremost an educator.   Reading was a passion of hers.  Mary was a full-time reading specialist here at Sacred Hearts School.  Her career in our school lasted for almost three decades.  As Joe wrote, “She opened the world of books to many hundreds of children.  After retirement Mary continued to tutor students several days a week.  Mary set high standards for her own children and the children she taught.  However, she didn’t ask anyone else to do something she herself wouldn’t do.    However, now this wonderful Irish grandmother has completed her journey.  May she receive the reward of her well-lived life.    As St. Paul wrote to the Romans, “The love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”

On behalf of the Catholic Community of Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, we offer to you our sympathy and prayers.  We have remembered you in our Masses and prayers these last days and so we will in the days ahead.  There is a little reflection that goes as follows, “A builder built a temple.  He wrought it with grace and skill; pillars and arches all fashioned to work his will.  Men said, as they saw its beauty, ‘It shall never know decay.  Great is thy skill, O builder:  Thy fame shall endure forever.’   A teacher built a temple with loving and infinite care, planning each arch with patience, laying each stone with prayer.  None praised her unceasing efforts, none knew of her wondrous plan; for the temple the teacher built was unseen by the eyes of man.  Gone is the builder’s temple, crumbled into dust; low lies each stately pillar, food for consuming rust.  But the temple the teacher built will last while the ages roll.  For that beautiful unseen temple is a child’s immortal soul.”  Touching hundreds of “immortal souls” is what Mary did with her life as a teacher.  May she rest in peace.  In the words of our Holy Gospel, “And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us, and we saw his glory, the glory as of the Father’s only Son, full of grace and truth.” 

A Final Lesson Imparted, Then Heavenward

“…The time of my departure is at hand. I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the Faith. From now on the Crown of Righteousness awaits me, which the Lord, the Just Judge, will award to me on that day…”    — 2 Timothy 4: 6-8


Suddenly, the world will never, ever be the same.

Mary K. Hanneman stepped gently into eternity Wednesday, Dec. 26, 2018, after a long struggle with vascular dementia and congestive heart failure. Our Blessed Lord summoned his precious daughter, my mother, at 11:50 p.m. from her home at Brookdale Senior Living. She was 86 years 2 months and 5 days young. Mary was a loving wife, mother, grandmother and longtime Catholic school teacher in Sun Prairie, where she has lived since 1965.

Mary Katherine Mulqueen was born in Cudahy, Wisconsin, on Oct. 21, 1932 — the seventh of 11 children of Earl J. Mulqueen Sr. and the former Margaret Madonna Dailey. On Aug. 9, 1958, she married David Dion Hanneman at St. Veronica Catholic Church in Milwaukee, beginning a more than 49-year marriage. He preceded her in death on April 14, 2007. He was 74.

For Mary, every day was a good day to teach. She had the heart of an educator, the discipline and courage of a gunnery sergeant and, under it all, the strong yet soft heart of an Irish grandmother. Above the entrance to her kitchen hung a sign that read Failte, — an Irish welcome. Over the years, countless relatives, friends and strangers were welcomed within those walls to incredible cooking, good cheer and, very likely, a game or two of sheepshead, Kings in the Corner or cribbage.


“The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.”

― William Arthur Ward.


Like most things in the Hanneman family, good teaching started at home. Mary’s kitchen table was just as likely to serve up arithmetic flash cards and sentence diagrams as it did Thanksgiving turkeys or chocolate chip cookies. She imparted many life lessons in her kitchen, from the academic (long division and phonics) to the culinary (corned beef with cabbage, lasagna and state-fair-quality bread and cinnamon rolls). Through the chaos and bustle of the annual  Thanksgiving dinner, we came to appreciate the gift of family — warts and all.

David D. Hanneman and the former Mary K. Mulqueen were married for more than 49 years.

Mary’s academic career began at St. Frederick’s Catholic School in Cudahy and St. Mary’s Academy in St. Francis, from which she graduated high school in 1950. After a brief postsecondary discernment at the suburban Franciscan convent, she took courses at Cardinal Stritch College and Marquette University. She studied reading literacy for elementary students for two years in Madison. Mary began practice teaching in the Catholic Schools in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee. She eventually became a full-time teacher in the newly built 17-room St. Veronica Catholic School on East Norwich Avenue in Milwaukee.

After their marriage in 1958, Mary and Dave moved to Grand Rapids, Michigan, where he held a job with E.R. Squibb & Co. She paused her teaching career to start and raise a family that came to include two boys and two girls. As a doctorate-level domestic engineer, she honed her skills wrangling hungry toddlers through the bedlam of birthday parties, sewing costumes, darning socks and hosting couples’ bridge. She set high standards for her children and expected them to reach even higher. Especially at school. She modeled her own saintly mother’s family virtuosity with things like bunny-shaped birthday cakes topped with coconut flakes and jellybeans. Or trips to Devil’s Lake and Storybook Gardens with four children in tow.

Mary learned her lessons well from “Ma,” Margaret M. Mulqueen. Her mother went out of her way to make family events special for her husband Earl, who lost both of his parents young and was denied most of childhood’s delectations.  “Every year, we always celebrated Christmas. My mother made Christmas really special,” Mary said in an oral-history interview with granddaughter Ruby in 2009. “But especially his birthday. He never had a birthday cake growing up. Isn’t that sad? And yet grew up to be such a nice man.”

In 1965 Mary and Dave built their dream home in Sun Prairie’s then-new Royal Oaks neighborhood. Seventeen stately oak trees towered over the property. Much love went into building and maintaining the family homestead that stayed in the Hanneman family for 53 years. She spent those years caring for her family with special birthday meals, wonderful Christmas mornings and a thrifty way with money that allowed her and Dave to put four children through Madison Edgewood High School.

In 1980, Mary resumed her teaching career at Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary Catholic School. She started as a substitute, but before long was a full-time reading specialist. She helped along the students who otherwise would fall behind. It was her passion to teach reading, and she opened the world of books to many hundreds of children. Students came to Mrs. Hanneman for extra help in reading, math and other subjects. She sent them back with the skills and desire to learn. Her career at Sacred Hearts stretched nearly three decades. Even after retirement, Mary tutored students several days a week for many years.

When her husband was dying of cancer in 2006 and 2007, she helped make his last wish come true. The couple donated four sections of beautiful stained-glass windows back to St. Mary’s Hospital in Madison, where they were incorporated into the design of a new wing of the hospital that opened in 2007.

Her penultimate lessons were largely delivered in the silence of advancing dementia, which eventually crippled her ability to think clearly and communicate verbally. Yet she showed patience in this frustrating infirmity. If she could not form the words to say what was on her mind, she sighed deeply and simply said, “Oh, dear.” As illness struck its blows through a heart attack and repeated cardiac events, she rallied time and again to regain strength and show a smile. When hospice nurse Heidi leaned close and told Mary it was almost Christmas, she smiled and said, “I love Christmas.”

Mary’s final and lasting lesson was delivered over days of speechless suffering. Her body conspired to drain her energy. Yet she trusted. She lay still. She prayed. During her final hour, she opened her eyes, lifted her head and looked intently — at something. She tried to speak, but words were not needed. The look of awe on her face explained it all: she had a glimpse of Heaven. All things would soon be new. That realization was reflected on her face. It was her final gift. She spoke in deeds what words could not say:

My work here is complete. My struggles were never in vain. Even in my brokenness, my trials fit in His design and served His redemptive plans. Watch! Hold fast to your Catholic faith — and you will one day follow me.

Mary is survived by her children: David (Lisa) Hanneman of Naperville, Ill., Joe Hanneman of Sun Prairie, Margret Mary of DeForest, Amy Bozza of Woodstock, Ill.; and special niece, Laura (Doug) Curzon of New Berlin, Wis. She is further survived by nine grandchildren: Abby, Maggie and Charlie Hanneman; Stevie, Samantha and Ruby Hanneman; and Justin, Kyle and Claire Bozza. She leaves two sisters, Ruth (Tom) McShane and Joan (Dick) Haske, both of Cudahy; a sister-in-law, Elaine Hanneman of Minneapolis; and brother-in-law Gordon Wellman of Sun Prairie. She was preceded in death by her husband, her parents and eight brothers and sisters.

A visitation will be held from 10:00 a.m. until 11:45 a.m. on Saturday, Jan. 5, 2019 at Tuschen-Newcomer Funeral Home, 302 Columbus St., Sun Prairie. The Mass of Christian Burial will be held at noon Saturday, Jan. 5 at Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary Catholic Church, 227 Columbus St., Sun Prairie. Monsignor Duane Moellenberndt will preside. Burial will be at Sacred Hearts Cemetery. In lieu of flowers, memorials are suggested to the Sacred Hearts School Endowment Fund, 221 Columbus St., Sun Prairie, WI 53590.

 

Procession Brings Body of Fallen Firefighter Home to Sun Prairie

Dozens of fire trucks and other emergency vehicles escorted the body of  fallen Sun Prairie Volunteer Fire Department Capt. Cory Barr from the medical examiner’s office to the funeral home late Wednesday.

The 15-year fire department veteran was killed Tuesday evening July 10 when a gas leak set off a massive explosion in the 100 block of West Main Street. The blast leveled several buildings and triggered a five-alarm fire that required mutual assistance from area fire departments. Sections of downtown Sun Prairie were still off limits four days later.

Fire engines, squad cars and rescue vehicles from around southern Wisconsin formed a long memorial procession from McFarland to Sun Prairie. The hearse carrying Barr’s body processed through fire station No. 1 before arriving at the Tuschen-Newcomer Funeral Home. Ladder trucks from the Waunakee and Columbus fire departments formed an arch under which the procession traveled.

The following departments were represented in the procession: Belleville-Exeter-Montrose, Black Earth, Burke-Bristol-Sun Prairie, Cambridge, Columbus, Cottage Grove, Cross Plains-Berry, Deerfield, DeForest, Fitchburg, Footville, Madison, Maple Bluff, Marshall, McFarland, Milwaukee, Monona, Mount Horeb, Oregon, Stoughton, Sun Prairie, Town of Madison, Verona, Waunakee and Wonewoc.