Judith “Judi” D. Schold
marzo 12, 1942 -
julio 11, 2015
Judith D. “Judi” Schold, age 73 of Kenosha died on Saturday, July 11, 2015 at Hospice House of Pleasant Prairie.
A lifelong resident of Kenosha she was born on March 12, 1942 and was the daughter of the late Allan and Katherine (Frazier) Hansen. She attended local schools and was a graduate of Mary D. Bradford High School.
On May 20, 1961 at Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church she was united in marriage to Ronald R. Schold. They were blessed with 54 years together.
Judi had a passion and unconditional love for Samoyed’s. She was a member of the Samoyed Club of America and was actively involved in their rescue. Judi loved breeding, showing and promoting the well-being and future of the gentle Samoyed breed.
Judi was also a volunteer with Hospice Alliance, Inc.
She is survived by her loving husband, Ronald Schold of Kenosha; her three children, Roxanne (Larry) Fiebelkorn of Kenosha, Michael (Heidi) Schold of Racine and Kathleen Kemmer of Beloit; and her four grandchildren, Kalie (Nathan) Lippert, Andrew Kemmer, Tyler Fiebelkorn and Kristen (Jon) Kelley.
Información del servicio
In accordance with Judi’s wishes, funeral services will be held privately.
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Vikki Johnson- WendlingRoxane and family I am so sorry for your loss. Your Mom was such a wonderful person always so kind to me! My heart aches for you all and I pray your Mom is at peace and out of pain. Love Vikki
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Kellie LinnI would like to extend my sympathy to Judi's family. I have many fond memories with Judi. I worked with her at PDQ. It was such a pleasure working with her and listening to her stories of her Sammies. I have also recently lost my dad to Cancer. There will be rough times ahead. I would love to say they get easier but they dont. Hold on to the memories and never let them go. Prayers are with all of you at this time.
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Lori Chapek-CarletonJudi and I always enjoyed our shared geographical connection--I grew up in Kenosha, Wisconsin! Though our paths crossed infrequently, every interaction was an effortless reunion, picking up conversations as if we'd just been momentarily interrupted. I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength, and I stand and watch her until at length she is only a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky meet and mingle with each other. Then someone at my side exclaims, "There, she's gone!" Gone where? Gone from my sight, that is all. She is just as large in hull and mast and spar as she was when she left my side, and just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of her destination. Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says, "She's gone," there are other eyes watching for her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "There, she comes!" And that is dying. --Henry Van Dyke, circa 1925
