November 22, 2012

  • Dad’s Lincoln

    While I was growing up, my Dad didn’t really seem to care much about his automobiles, how they looked, what kind they were, etc.  As long as they ran and held all his family, it was good enough for him.  He owned a variety of vehicles over the years but he did have a ” Dream Car”….a 1947 Lincoln.

    My Dad had a 1947 blue Lincoln car when he was courting Mom.  He loved that car and he loved telling stories about it’s electric push button windows.  It was a classy car.  Just remember when electric windows really became popular…..in the 70′s I think, so this car was way ahead of the rest in his opinion.  Somehow it was his dream car for many decades.

    No door handles.  Just push buttons.

    A few years ago he called my brother-in-law up and told him that he had finally acquired a blue Lincoln.  It was a 1984 model.  He told Raymond that he took it for a spin out on Rte 33 and it rolled along with hardly a wobble.  Raymond was glad for Dad realizing his dream and couldn’t wait to see it.

    Later, Dad called me and he was all excited.  He had just purchased a 1947 Lincoln at scrap metal price.  Everything was there except a couple of trim pieces.  The horn and the radio still worked but the car didn’t run.  He had plans to restore it and I helped by looking up a few things on the Internet for him.  Frankly, I was excited too because I’ve always thought if I were a guy, I think it would be so rewarding to get an old car and completely restore it.

    Once I laid eyes on the rust bucket, however, I was sure that Dad would never live long enough to restore it.  But I kept my thoughts from him.  The last thing I wanted to do was discourage him.  This was his baby and if it gave him something to do, “Then go for it, Dad”.  It was fun to see how interested he was in it.

    He loved taking people down there to look at it and he and my niece, who is 5 years old, loved going down so she could blow the horn.  She had to stand up on the seat and push with her feet to make it honk, but when it honked it HONKED.  What a horn!  More like something on a train locomotive.  If you weren’t prepared, it’d blast you 6 and 9/10th inches or however many that Frank Gilbreath did when his little boy blew the horn on Foolish Carriage.  (See Cheaper by the Dozen).

     

    When Dad got sick last summer, he knew his days were numbered so he lowered his goal to just getting it to run.  Vernon took his tools out in August and worked a couple of days but didn’t succeed.  Later my brother Veasy tried also but still wasn’t able to get it going.  So he died without realizing that dream.

    Of course, we all felt bad.  Who wouldn’t want to see someone have his lifelong wish fulfilled?  Especially your Daddy?  Oh well, he’s in a much better place and I am sure that Lincolns no longer concern him but still……

    Anyway, what happened to the ’84 model?   I am coming to that.  When the family all converged on the homeplace before the funeral, I heard Lavina exclaim:  ”I found Grandpa’s blue Lincoln and I am keeping it.  It’s mine now!”  Here she is with her prize:

    This is very typical of Bennie Glenn’s humor.  

    It only remains to be seen what will happen with the car.  I hope someone will restore it.  Tootles

     

November 16, 2012

  • Jury Duty

    I had a first time experience today.  I was called for jury duty at the Rusk County Courthouse this morning.  Actually, I was scheduled for one on Monday earlier this week but it was cancelled but this one wasn’t cancelled so I arrived there at 8:45.  I had to sign after my name on the sign-up sheet.  I was glad to see the name ahead of mine was Rosanna M Martin (Mrs. Jerry).  I had hoped there would be someone I knew, but never thought of it being another conservative Mennonite.

    Most of the other prospective jurors were already in the courtroom when I got there and the bench that Rose was filled so I took a seat elsewhere.  Soon afterwards, the clerk of circuit courts asked if 3 different persons had arrived yet.  They hadn’t so they waited until 9 to begin the process of choosing the 12 jurors.  Renee Baxter, (the clerk) told us that no-shows are not permitted unless in a serious emergency.  They were contacting those 3 to remind them to hurry and get there.  I believe everyone did eventually show up although one or two arrived after we were sworn/affirmed in.

    After giving us some instructions and telling us how they picked us through the Dept. of Motor vehicles; (hmmm…..so Amish never get called for jury duty…..), they read off 20 names and those had to go sit in the order we were called in the jury section.  I was number 9 called but was placed in chair # 8.  Rose never got called at all.  There were about 32 people in all, but they only called 20 of those.  Those not called had to remain there for further choosing once the elimination process began.  The judge began by telling us what the crime was; in this case a DUI charge.  The accused was a young woman that I’d guess to be in her early twenties.  The crime happened on March 30th of this year. 

    We were all asked if any of us knew about the case, read it in the newspaper, etc.  None of us had.  Then began questions like: Do you know the defendant? Are you related to her?  Do you know the attorney that represents her, have you ever had any thing to do with his law firm, etc.  Do you know the DNR fellow?  The deputy sheriffs involved in her arrest?  The list went on and on.  No one was eliminated.  Finally came the question:  Are any of you opposed to serving as jury for whatever reason? 

    I raised my hand and told the judge that I had religious convictions concerning serving on the jury.  He thanked me and asked if there were any objections for excusing me.  None, so I was told to sit on the bench again.  This time I got to sit with Rose.   

    More questioning as someone was called to fill my vacancy.  Another woman was excused.  I forget why but think it was that she felt that she couldn’t do it with no partiality.

    Finally, they were done questioning so they had the District Attorney and the Defense lawyer striking out 8 names.  Once that was done they read out twelve names for the jurors who were left.  They were sworn/affirmed in again and the rest of us were dismissed to go with the promise that there were no more jury trials for the month and that we wouldn’t be summoned for at least 4 years.

    We were free to stay and watch, which I would’ve loved to do as it was a very educational experience.   I didn’t however as I have scads of stuff to do here at home.    On the way out, I stopped by the restroom and one of the would-be jurors told that she appreciated my honesty and courage to say why I couldn’t conscientiously serve.  “I know its because of ‘Judge not that you be not judged’…..I consider myself a Christian and now I am going to go home and study that verse too.  I really want to know just how I feel about that.”  I regret not telling her that I would pray that as she seeks the answer for herself that God will guide her in her search.    But I will pray to that end.  I guess I hadn’t thought that my words would leave a testimony but am grateful that it did.  I want to give God the glory for that.

    PS.  (I thought it was interesting there were 3 Mennonites there and all of us were from the 3 different local churches represented here in Rusk Co.)

    Well, that was the end of my call to Jury Duty.  Have a good day.  Kim

    .Here’s a picture to liven it up.  My Dad with Kaity about 4 years ago. 

     

November 11, 2012

  • Ida Mae

    Just before Dad’s funeral service was to begin, John and Sara Hershberger walked in.  Following close behind was their oldest child, one of my very first childhood friends, Ida Mae and her husband Andy. 

    Our family ties go way back into the ’60′s when our family lived near Rushville, Ohio.  I think I was 6 years old when a group of Amish from Geauga Co. Ohio moved to Somerset.  I am not sure in what order they came.  I had thought that Hershbergers were the first family there but I just learned that Alfred Yoder’s were the first and Sam Gingerich’s the second. They were soon joined by others:  John A Miller’s,  Wayne Miller’s, Jake Miller’s, Wallace Byler’s, Raymond Coblentz’s.  There may have been others but these are the first ones that I remember.

    John and Sara and their 3 children settled onto a dairy farm right along US Rte. 22 a few miles east of Somerset.  Not long after we met, John rented some of the land where we lived so we enjoyed their company on occasion when he would come over to farm it.   Later in the summer of ’67 our family moved to a place a mile or so behind (over a couple of hills) from the Hershbergers. 

    Ida Mae, just being a little younger than my sister Pam was such a delightful little friend.  We just loved it when our families got together, whether at our place or theirs.  It was just plain fun!  They had a shed or summer Kitchen just a few steps from their back door where Ida Mae had her play house.  We enjoyed playing there.  Or going into the barn and watching John and Sara milk the cows.  John would call different cows by name.  I thought they all looked alike. 

    Anyway, when we were little girls, we enjoyed the teasing of John H as he tickled us and called us Giggle Pusses.  I will always remember John and Sara’s pleasant manner.  Seemed as if they always had a smile on their faces.  Times when they babysat for us when Dad and Mom would take a group of the Amish somewhere.

    I thought that Ida Mae wouldn’t be able to come to Dad’s funeral as she and her husband were on a trip.  So I was really happy to see that they had made it back in time to come.  It has been probably 15 or more years since we had last seen each other.  Neither of us can remember when. 

    After the meal, Pam, Ida and I had our own little reunion.  Of course, we didn’t get properly caught up but enough  that Andy wondered if he’d ever get his wife back.    We had to recount the time when we accidentally drove our car into the creek.  Oh weren’t we a very frightened trio?!!!   We were playing restaurant in the car….Pam up front taking orders from me and Ida Mae in the back seat.  Ida thought she’d rather be a waitress I think, because she flipped over the seat and in doing so her foot hit the gearshift.  The rest you can imagine, as the car, in neutral, began to drift back into the little creek.   What a commotion we must’ve caused but I do remember the intense relief when the car stopped rolling and we were safe outside on dry ground.  Then seeing John hook up his tricycle John Deere and pull it out.  I remember it popping a wheelie and being afraid it would tip on over.    I am sure it wasn’t such a big deal and don’t even remember the grown-ups getting up tight about it but you can be sure that there were 3 little girls who weren’t into playing in cars from that time on.

    We didn’t discuss the time when we went to school together at Somerset Elementary and envying the “worldly” girls who did flips on the monkey bars.   This was when I was in 2nd grade and Ida Mae and Pam were in 1st.  (The school was large enough that there were 2 classrooms for each grade so Pam and Ida Mae weren’t in the same classroom.)  Ida Mae’s classroom was directly across the hall from mine on the north side of the building.  Our recesses and lunch hour were the same so we enjoyed playing together then.  I am not sure who came up with the idea of wearing tights to school so that we could do these flips but we made out ahead of time to do just that.  Big mistake.

    The day arrived and we were so excited.  Unfortunately, we didn’t choose the smaller set, but the ones high enough that we had to struggle to get up on.  I think this set was for the older scholars in the upper grades but that didn’t deter us.   We had been spinning around showing our rumps to whoever and not feeling a bit guilty about it….after all, we had tights on.  Not sure what we did if our dresses enveloped our heads.  That was the least of our concerns.   But, another unfortunate thing happened.   Suddenly,  dear little Ida Mae, (she was so petite) slipped and went down, head first onto an ugly chunk of concrete that was holding the upright pipe into the ground.  Down she went, cutting her head on that jagged cement.  I am not sure if she was knocked out, I don’t think she was but again there were 3 scared little girls.  At least 2 of us were scared.   Ida may not have been scared but she was bleeding and crying with pain.  The memory of her little white covering turning red with blood is still with me.  We went as fast as we can for help.  I got to stay out of class for awhile answering the principal’s and other teachers’ and perhaps the school nurse’s questions.  I felt kind of important about that.   I remember John coming on his John Deere to take his little girl to Dr. Lord’s up the street from the school. 

    Looking back, it probably wasn’t as serious as it seemed to us little girls.  If it had been, it seems the school would’ve taken her in their vehicles or even walked her up the street to the doctor’s office.  But since they called John and waited for him to come and get her and take her himself…..And on a tractor at that, it must’ve been more superficial than we realized.   She did get some stitches and didn’t come back to school for the rest of the day.  But it did scare us and never again did we play on the monkey bars with tights.    

    Another thought I had was that I imagine the school took care of that jagged piece of concrete.  At least I hope they did.

    Well, I probably ought to close my  “Reminiscing book” and end this post.  Just going to add a couple of pictures of my dear friends.  (I wish I had a better on of John and Sara but this is the best I could find in the random pictures from Dad’s funeral.) 

    Ida’s parents:  John and Sara Hershberger

    The 3 little girls, about 45 years later,  Kim, Ida Mae Miller and Pam Chupp

November 7, 2012

  • Love and Trust

    The day started out perfectly.  Since I am not a “morning” person, I was enjoying the luxury of spending a few extra minutes in our cozy bed, while trying to wake up.   I usually use this time in meditation and prayer as I acclimate myself to the idea of getting up.  Overhead, I could hear my dear hubby, walking around in the kitchen getting breakfast.  He had thoughtfully turned the heater on to warm our room before he left.  Then the door of our bedroom slowly creaked open, my little girl came in and crawled in with me for a good morning cuddle.

    “I love you Mommy.”  she said as she wrapped her little arms around me in a bear hug.  Ah, life is really sweet.

    Then…..”Mommy, how did I learn to love you?”  I smiled.  Interesting question.  “Well, it all began when you were still in my tummy, I think.”  I went on to tell her how she must’ve felt protected and safe and then when she was born how she must’ve felt.  “Then Daddy took you and wrapped you in a nice warm towel,  got you dressed and tucked you into our bed right here.”  

    She loves to hear the story of her birth and how on that cold winter night her daddy took care of her and tucked her into our bed.   The story went on and as I told it,  she pipes up with, “I love my daddy, too.” 

    Love is the product of trust.  If Kaity didn’t trust us, her love  for us would not have grown. 

    Of course that set my mind to thinking into other channels:

    I reflected about an incident that happened to me when I was about 9 years old.  My sister and I went with our parents and to our Aunt’s house.   She and her husband had moved there earlier and this was the first time any of us had been to this particular house.  She was giving us a tour of her house, a split level, and we were down in the basement when her husband came home from work.  Well, this was one man that I didn’t like.  I had never liked him and frankly I was scared of him.  Somehow, when everyone went back upstairs, I found myself separated from Auntie and my family with this man between us!  There was no way I could bring myself to walk past him to rejoin them.  I panicked and I tore out the opposite way…..the basement door stood open.  In my terror and zeal to flee  I didn’t see the fence that was just outside the door until I slammed into it running at top speed.  This stopped me in my tracks but only for a moment until I gathered myself together and took off again around the side of the house to the safety of our car.  I am sure my aunt wondered what possessed me when she later was doctoring the huge goose egg on my forehead with an ice pack.

    Recently, I told her I had never liked him  She wondered why.   I told her the truth….I never trusted him because he had taken liberties with where he touched us.  Her response was “Why didn’t you tell on him?”  I really don’t know why I hadn’t thought of doing that but that was back in the ’60′s, and I was just a little girl.   Maybe it never occurred to me that I should’ve told but there definitely was a relationship between the lack of trust and the lack of love.  I remember when I heard that my Aunt had divorced him a few years after that head bopping, I was so relieved.

    Isn’t wonderful to be able to trust someone?  I love Vernon because I trust him.

    I told someone once that I was so glad that I could trust my husband, that I was so thankful that I can totally trust him with my daughters, when he is away, when other women talk to him, etc.  Not that I think he is infallible or above temptation but he has proven trustworthy (and is serious about his relationship with Christ.) She indicated that she hadn’t learn to trust her husband.  Another woman told me that she never left her little girl at home with her husband, because she didn’t trust him.  That must have been terrible not to mention inconvenient.  How sad. 

    Then I thought about loving Christ.  My love for Him is a result of my trust in Him.  The more that I learn to trust Him the more I love Him. 

    We Love Him Because He First Loved Us. 

     

     

November 2, 2012

  • Cousins, Aunts, Uncles and other relatives

    At Dad’s viewing/visitation and funeral.  I was so happy to see some of my cousins and Uncle and Aunts.   I wish I could’ve got photos of all them.  As it was, I got one of my Dad’s two sisters, Deloris (Dee Dee) and Bonnie. Bonnie and Dee

      Also one of my Mom’s only sister Sue Powers.  I am her oldest namesake so she is extra special to me. 

    My sisters, Pam and Gwen with Aunt Susie.

    Of course Dee and Bonnie were extra special too.  Dee Dee never married so she was always part of my Grandma Glenn.  One didn’t come without the other.  We always loved to see them come driving in.  Aunt Susie lived close to us until I was in 2nd grade and was over at our house a lot so she was our second mama.  Since Grandma and Dee only came 3 or 4 times a year and stayed a week or so at a time, their visits were more exciting.  Especially since Grandma always got out of the car with a bag of candy and asked “Who’s been pretty?”  She knew not to ask who had been good.  That was impossible with 8 kids 10 years old and under. 

    One of my siblings actually told someone when they were little that they liked Grandma better because she had lots of pillows.  They meant her lap was more comfortable to sit on due to her excess weight.    At one point, I thought I liked Grandma better too because Aunt Susie didn’t mind making us obey using conventional methods as did my parents.   Now that I am older, I know that I loved them all and one isn’t any more special than the others as they all are.

    Anyway, Dad’s oldest brother, Alvie couldn’t come because he is bedfast.  I think he is 92 years old.  I had hoped that his daughter Ruby would be there.  I hadn’t seen her for 14 years since Grandma passed away.  Ruby’s brother, who is just a couple of years younger than my mom came.  He had to introduce himself or I wouldn’t have known him

    Dad’s older brother, Harvey and his wife Helene came for the funeral but I didn’t recognize them at first.  Isn’t that awful?  Their daughter Michelle came after the funeral for the meal to visit with us.  (She has a job taking care of handicapped adults and couldn’t get away earlier.)  I didn’t recognize her at all.

    Dad’s only other living brother, Bonnie’s twin, was out of state so we didn’t see anything of his family either.

    Of course, Charlotte was there.  I just love her.  Me and Charlotte

     

    I found out later that Dad’s cousin Carrie Hardesty came to the funeral.  I was really bummed out that I didn’t know that.  I would have loved to have seen her.  I remember an interesting incident when I was in about the 4th grade.  I had been in the same class as Carrie’s son Royce for 3 years and had no clue that he was my 2nd cousin.  One day we were outside playing.  Our house was situated very close to Davis Chapel Rd.  Our garden and swimming hole (the creek) was across the road and some of us were on the opposite side of the road.  Dad came out and called to one of us at the same time as a car came down the road and passed in front of our house.   A little later this same car came back down the road and stopped.  The lady driver had been taking her daughter Joyce to our neighbor’s house for a birthday party.  She had thought Dad was calling to her when she passed so decided to stop and see what he wanted.   You can imagine everyone’s surprise when Carrie realized that the man that she thought was calling to her was her long lost cousin Bennie Glenn and Dad’s surprise at finding his long lost cousin Carrie!    And to think that their children had been going to school together all that time!  Our families stayed in touch after that but I personally haven’t seen Carrie since Grandma died.

    Well that’s all for this post.  I want to post some pictures of the visitation, church and grave before long.

    PS.  I cannot believe that I forgot Steve and Donna Heskett and their son Stevie.  And Bob Wolfe.  He is married to Steve’s sister Doris.  Steve and Doris’s mother was a sister to my Grandma Pearl.

November 1, 2012

  • Roses for Mama

    The other day, I took Mom to visit Aunt Susie.  When we returned back home, she went into the house while I busied myself to cleaning out their car.  Soon she called for me to leave that and come see what was waiting for me in the house.  I went wondering what was the matter.

    This is what greeted me:

    There were 2 bouquets.  One was addressed to Mom and the other to me.  How sweet.   

    Susana, our oldest child, had gone out to WI with the family after the funeral.  She and Adam had decided for her to come out for a few days which was a God-send.  Because of this, I could stay with Mom for a week.  I didn’t worry about my children or Vernon since I know they were in good hands.  (PS….she is an excellent cook.  ).   Anyway, Adam had sent her a bouquet of roses on the anniversary of their courtship beginning 5 years ago. 

    Suddenly I had to smile.   Memories of something came to the forefront of my mind.  Years ago, when Jeff Zimmerman was going with Jennie Miller, he sent a bouquet to Jennie, he also sent one to his future mother-in-law Rose.  Ted, (her husband) didn’t want to be outdone went and bought Rose bouquet also!  We thought that was pretty funny. 

    Thanks Adam, for giving Vernon a good idea.  I just love it. 

  • Our Gang

    Last Saturday, I attended the wedding of Carrisa Brunk and Trent Weaver at Hocking Hills Mennonite Church near Logan, Ohio.

    I was there by default because I was staying with my Mom for the week but I was delighted to go and see several of people whom I hadn’t seen for a long time.

    One particular gal was Mim Yoder (nee Miriam Good) from somewhere in GA.  I hadn’t seen her for about 23 years.  Her Dad was our bishop there in Carbon Hill, so we’ve known each other all of my life and most of hers….she being 11 months older than I. 

    Elaine Brunk lives in Logan.  She is my almost birthday twin;  (2 days younger; we shared the same hospital nursery when we were born).  Since Elaine’s Dad, the late Norman Brunk (our deacon), the late Marion Good, my dad were the founding fathers of Carbon Hill Mennonite church.  We grew up together with my younger sister, Pam Chupp who is 13 months younger than Elaine and I.  (All of us were born in October, by the way.  )

    Then in 1973, I believe, Gaylord (late) Bear’s family joined us as minister with Marion and Norman.  Shana was 5 and 1/2 years younger than I but she matured into a very sweet young lady and was soon a vital part of our gang.  Of course we all went to school in the basement of the church and went to youth functions together when we got older.  (Not to mention the slumber parties Mim had at her house.  )

    Anyway, Elaine, Mim and I decided last Sat. that we should have a picture taken together.  This drew some attention and someone asked if we were the 3 Stooges.  We laughed and told them that we were missing 2 of us.  It sure would’ve been nice if all 5 of us could’ve been there.  But….oh well.  Can’t have it all.  This was better than nothing.

    l-r: Elaine, Mim and I

    So you can imagine my delight when Shana Horst called and told me that she wanted to come down the next day.  Pam was coming up from Va too that day.  Perhaps we COULD have a mini reunion after all! 

    Pam and Shana showed up at the church within 5 minutes of each other.  Vernon and I were waiting there for them so a quick call to Mim and Elaine and very shortly all 5 of us were there reminiscing and laughing about memories of long ago.  Vernon and Denis (Shana’ hubby) discreetly stood down the hall from us probably wondering what was so hilarious.

    It didn’t last as long as we wanted but Vernon and I needed to head for Wisconsin and Elaine needed to say Good-bye to her sisters who were getting ready to leave.

      It was sweet.  The first time we’d all been together for over 23 years!  Of course we had to document that. 

    l-r: Mim, Pam, Shana, Elaine, and I

    Long live the 5 friends.  (I haven’t come up with a better title for us….but certainly not stooges.) 

  • My Dad vs Your Dad

    When my Dad passed away a couple of weeks ago somehow my mind was drawn to my childhood.

    Did you all argue about stuff like who has the best car or tractor?  Or whether your Mom’s sewing machine was bigger or better than your friend’s Mom’s?  I know it was petty and pretty dumb, but hey, we HAD to talk about something.  And what little kid doesn’t think that their parents were the smartest, prettiest, etc……

    How many times on the way home from school did I hear the Glenn boys “discussing” with the Goods and Bears just who had the most powerful tractor?  In our case it was Allis Chalmers versus FarmAll, I believe.  Then it was whose Dad was richer or smarter.   I don’t remember ever joining in these little spats but the memory is still very powerful.

    I guess it was the last that made me smile.  My Dad was a very smart, self educated man.  He knew something about a LOT of things.  He wasn’t boostful about it but he could keep up with the best of them.  If you had a question about anything, he usually had enough knowledge about it, that he could educate you or at least get you on the right track.   He grew up in the depression era, was in the military, he had been to Japan and Korea.  Been on ships (to and from Korea), could speak Korean and some Greek….enough that the Army asked him to be a translator at times.  He also learned some Spanish later in life when he and Mom took in exchange students from Central America.  He was a builder and contractor and talked of roof purlins (whatever that was), but could also intelligently tell you how they made plates for the offset printing presses when he was a printer.  He knew trees, their leaves and bark, different kinds of rocks.  He loved the sky at night.  Different constellations, etc.  I remember him showing us the space shuttle Sputnik as it orbited around the earth when I was just a little girl.  He would call us up and tell us when to look for meteor showers or a comet or an eclipse.  (He loved Science!) 

    The list could go on and on.  He was amazing.  It makes me sad to think of all that knowlege going with him to the grave.  I am sure we barely scratched the surface of all that was contained in his head!

    So, I am going to be bold and say what I’ve been dying to say for a long time:

    “My Dad was smarter than your Dad!” 

    God bless your day.

     

October 17, 2012

  • My late birthday present

    After we bought our “new” blue van,  I told Vernon if he got it licensed and road ready, I’d be delighted to accept that for my birthday gift.  As it turned out, he didn’t quite make that deadline.  (He was in Mexico at the time.)  But 2 weeks later is good enough for me.  So here I am with my birthday present.  Now, it looks like it belongs and everything is alright now.    (I know I am a sentimental ninny but for some reason this feels just right.  )

  • Dad’s Obituary

    Bennie Glenn 1933-2012

     

    Posted: Tuesday, October 16, 2012 6:41 pm | Updated: 6:42 pm, Tue Oct 16, 2012. Logan Daily News

     

    NELSONVILLE — Bennie D. Glenn, 79, of Nelsonville, passed away Tuesday, Oct. 16, 2012 at The Pickering House in Lancaster.

    He was born March 4, 1933 in Firebrick, Ky., son of the late Jessie and Pearl Scott Glenn. Bennie was married to Dovie Lutisha Love Glenn, who survives.

     

    He was a retired, self employed contractor and was a member of Hocking Hills Mennonite Church.

    Bennie is survived by his children, Gwendolyn J. (Julian) King of Virginia, Randel K. (Danita) Glenn of Junction City, S. Kim (Vernon) Martin of Wisconsin, Pamela R. (Raymond) Chupp of Virginia, Nathanael Q. (Tammy) Glenn of Virginia, Veasy E. (Valerie) Glenn of Idaho and  B. Todd (Kim) Glenn of Virginia; 39 grandchildren; 10 great-grandchildren; brothers, Alvie (Bertha) Glenn of Circleville, Charles (Helene) Glenn of Union Furnace and Lonnie (Betty) Glenn of Logan; and sisters, Delores Glenn of Wellston and Bonnie (Rex) Martin of Logan.  A sister-in-law Susan Love (Jim) Powers

    In addition to his parents, he was preceded in death by a son, Jeffrey B. Glenn; brothers, Eugene and Chester Glenn; and sisters, Hester Martin, Esther Glenn and Ellen Vincent.

    Funeral services are at 10 a.m., Saturday, Oct. 20, 2012 at the Hocking Hills Mennonite Church, 14865 State Route 595, Logan, with John Brunk officiating.

    Interment will be in the Hocking Hills Mennonite Church Cemetery, Hocking County.

    Friends may call Friday from 4 to 8 pm and Saturday one hour prior to the service at the church.

    Arrangements are by Cardaras Funeral Home, 183 E. Second St., Logan.

    Please sign his online guestbook at www.cardaras.com.