Dennis L. Crawford

Dennis Lynn “Denny” Crawford was born on September 21, 1944 to Charles “Wilbur” and Freda Crawford, the third of 5 sons to bless their family. He was a true middle child, being about 9 years younger than his older brothers and 7 years older than his younger brothers. With typical middle child stubborn attitude, he outlived all his siblings. That was a feat he himself couldn’t believe! Between his cousin Karen letting his wagon roll into the river behind the family run grocery store when he was around a year old, falling down the second story steps behind the same store and hitting his head, jumping out of a moving pickup as a young boy to keep his uncle’s dog from getting too far behind and not being able to find his way home and getting to lay on the kitchen table while they picked gravel out of him, I think he may have had a few extra lives or a guardian angel watching over him! In his later years, he missed his brothers terribly and there is, no doubt, a wonderful reunion happening! He always said he was the worst of the boys and gave his parents the most trouble out of all his siblings! As his daughter, I find that quite hard to believe because to me he was a kind and gentle human being! He was a lover of all animals but especially dogs and deer! He had a companion and best friend in a black lab appropriately named Blackie as a young boy. Blackie went everywhere he went whether that was to school to guard his bike or on his paper route that he had for many years. He was even snuck into the house whenever his folks weren’t around. Later on, after I was born, Ginger, a little terrier mix joined the family. She was a humane society rescue and lived to be 12 or 13 years old. She spent her last winter in a pen in the basement where Dad kept her snug and warm because he couldn’t bear to put her to sleep. Denny was an avid bow hunter. He always enjoyed sitting in his stand in the timber watching deer and always hoping for the “big one”! He hunted and fished the Wapsipinicon River his whole life until his health would not allow it. We spent many weekends around the river. I recall picking up clams from the shallow sandbars and catching frogs in the pasture to use as catfish bait. We even slept on the sandbar in a tent a couple times. Canoeing from Independence to Quasky was an annual event for a few years if water levels allowed. He passed on that love of the outdoors to his family. Dad was a very proud veteran of the United States Army where he gladly served from 1965-1967. He spent much of that time in Germany working on radio control towers. I love to hear him tell stories about his army days! He was a member of American Legion Post #434 and enjoyed his time working around the cemetery putting up and taking down flags, marching in the Memorial Day parade, serving his fellow veterans at their funeral services and for many years, keeping the legion lawn mowed and looking nice! I always joke that he bled RED, WHITE AND BLUE! Pride in his Country was something he also passed on to our family.