Mr. Albert J. Halverson, age 88 of Grant, died unexpectively Friday, June 2, 2006 at his residence. He was born Albert John Halverson in Grant, the son of Minnie (Anscomb) and John Halverson on April 30, 1918. He married Carol Lyn Chrystler Hanson on March 25, 1976 in Grant and she preceded him in death on June 10, 2002. He was a Maintenance man for Gerber Products, Fremont for 20 years until his retirement August 19, 1977. He was a member of VFW Post #4249 Newaygo. He was a veteran having served in the Army during World War II from September 8, 1942 to November 10, 1945 when he was discharged as a PFC.
He is survived by his daughter Cleo & Russell "Gus" Weinrick of Muskegon, 3 grandchildren, 4 great-grandchildren, several nieces & nephews, and special friends Joe Howes and Don Olson. He was preceded in death by 5 brothers and 3 sisters.
Funeral services will be held at 11:00 A. M from the McKinley Grant Chapel, on Wednesday, June 7, 2006 with Mr. David Joe Hatter officiating. Interment will be in the Bridgeton Cemetery. Visitation will be held 7-9 P. M. Tuesday. Military honors under auspices of the VFW Post #4249 of Newaygo. Please sign the online guest book at www.mckinleyfuneral.com.
McKinley Funeral Home, Grant, 231-834-5613. http:\\mckinleyfuneral.com
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- Remote Name:
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- Date:
- Wednesday July 17, 2013
- Time:
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- Remote Name:
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- Date:
- Friday July 19, 2013
- Time:
- 10:38:44
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Thomas Dakota Porter / On a moonlit night in Febuary I took this prime red fox. It was a Sunday night and my clgleoe classes allowed me to sleep in the next day. My friend Joe took me to a few different spots that nite. We called in a few foxes at the different locations. I remember the excitement was almost unbearable waiting after we would make distress calls. Those bouncing reds eyes have been inscribed in my mind forever. It was on the last spot of the nite that I took my first fox. Joe did the calling and I waited. Within 15 minutes a red fox came tearing from the woods into our field. It's was instinct for me at this point. I placed the cross hairs on the fox's chest and squeezed. The shot was true and the fox preformed some acrobatics before dropping to the ground and running off. Initially I though I hadn't fatally wounded it. However, as I searched for the fox in the brush I heard it make one final kick and then the silence of it expiring. Joe and I jumped up and down as the hard work in the blistering Pennsylvania cold had paid off. I was left with a memory that would last forever.