Lowell Boone
GLASFORD - Lowell K. Boone, 79, of Glasford died at 7:34 a.m. Sunday, Nov. 30, 2003, at his residence.
Born Aug. 8, 1924, in Carlisle, Ind., to Frank and Pauline Neal Boone, he married Margaret M. Pigg on Dec., 26, 1947, in Indiana. She died April 5, 1976.
He later married Marie J. Hillman Murphy on July 2, 1977, in Glasford. She survives.
Also surviving are on daughter, Joyce (and Don) Kuntz of Glasford; one son, Keith (and Amy) of Glasford; five stepdaughters, Debra Scheerer of Canton, Diana (and Richard) Keefer, Judy Welker, and Vicki (and John) Welker, all of Middle Grove, and Janette (and Richard) Hadsall of Glasford; 17 grandchildren; eight great-grandchildren; five brothers, Norval (and Norma) of Carlisle, Alan (and Ginny) of Anderson, Ind., Donis (and Ruby) of Crawfordsville, Ind., Carl and (Beverly) of Dugger, Ind., and Gary (and Elaine) of Linton, Ind.; and one sister, Doris Bedwell of LaPorte, Ind.
He was preceded in death by one granddaughter.
A World War II Army veteran, he was a member of American Legion Post 35.
He worked at Caterpillar Inc. for 33 years, retiring from planning in Mapleton in 1980. He was past secretary and president of the Glasford Telephone Co. for more than 30 years and a former leader of the Timber Tigers 4-H Club for more than 20 years.
He was one of the most prominent miniature horse breeders in the nation. He was a member of the Heart of America Miniature Equine Club, the Illinois Miniature Horse Owners Club and Mid-America Miniature Horse Club. He was a life-time member of the American Shetland Pony Club and also a lifetime member and past board member of the American Miniature Horse Association. He was past president of the International Miniature Horse Registry.
He was a member of the Glasford Optimist Club.
He was a member of Canton Church of Christ, where he served as treasurer.
Services will be at 10 a.m. Friday at Davison-Fulton Bartonville Chapel. Visitation will be from 5 to 8 p.m. Thursday at the funeral home. Burial will be in Lancaster Cemetery.
Memorials may be made to his church.
Lowell K Boone owner and founder of Boone's Minature Horses He is missed by all who knew him He was a gentle man and took time with his children and grandchildren and they all loved him dearly. He was a decendent of the Famous Daniel Boone also. He is survived by his second wife Marie and children and grandchildren and many many friends .
.His prize horse was the Little Buckaroo.When Lowell needed heart surgery he was forced to sell his prize horse The Little Buckaroo to pay for the surgery..When Buckeroo was two years old he was the International Grand Champion. He also was International Grand Champion the following year in 1981. He wasn't shown in 1982 because of a broken leg. In 1983 he and Lowell were undefeated. HE SHOWED IN 5 SHOWS AND TOOK 5 GRAND CHAMPIONS! The last show was at the A.M.H.A national show where Lowell showed him for his new owners and won the A.M.H.A. National Grand Champion. The Eberts retired him and he has been producing champion and grand champions at Little King Farm ever since,which is something Lowell was very happy about.
This was written by his granddaughter Angela
Dear Gramps,
A day doesn't pass that I don't miss you. As the tears stream down my cheeks, I reflect of your life, your leadership, and your legacy. I will do my best to make sure that I up-hold your last request to me, to "let your legacy live on". I love you today, tomorrow, and always. Sincerely, Your Grandaughter, Angela
Dear Family, Friends, and anyone else reading this, who may, or may not of known Lowell K. Boone,
I am writing this, so that you, and others may know, and find strength in the man we knew and loved. The below story and clips are told in my words, from my view point, and may vary depending on who else you talk to. Smiley Face!
I think it is most important that you know my grandfather as a religious person. He was thee, or one of thee, founders of the Canton, IL Church of Christ. At his visitation even people who attended the church only occassionally hugged me and told me how important it was that that church not close due to his death. I agreed and shared in the pain of their loss. Collections were taken in his name, and the $ used to improve the church, with much over due carpet and paint, etc. I think he would of been proud of that. It was not uncommon for such a small church to struggle financially to make ends meet, and it also was as equally common for my grandfather to reach into his own pocket to find $ to pay the heating or phone bill, or to give the underpaid preacher a small raise. I found it only fitting at his death that one of my grandfathers' students in church, became a preacher, and performed the tearful service. I now share the wonderful work of Steven Bonk as read the day of the service:
There is a pair of well-worn boots, that shoed my lifetime friend, they carried him down the isle at church, and into the horses'pen. Why do these boots appear so worn, what stories can they tell? They speak of that walk of a certain man and years when he was well. Yet this does not explain, you say, the depth of scuff and wear, that's only because you do not know his burdens and his cares. For the weight that caused wear, for the biggest part, was the loving concern of an oversized heart. Some will see those empty old boots and give no second thought, To the life and times of my noble friend and the lessons that he taught. But I'll reflect on those dusty, scarred boots and the tasks that they've seen done, Not for the flaws, the dirt or the scars, but for the race that they've run.
Steve put it best when he spoke of gramps "over-sized heart." My grandfather loved his family and friends very much, and I found it again, fitting, that he put my mom in charge of making sure everyone knew that he loved them, upon his death. She, like him, has a "gift of gab". Gramps provided many things to many people over the years. These things include, but were not limited to: friendship, companionship, leadership, commaraderie, love, laughs, fun, fellowship, and for material things: cars, homes, clothes, $, land, horses, etc. My gramps never expected anything in return for his generosity. He was giving, even in his final hours and days. I saw my gramps for the last time Thanksgiving Day 2003. He/we found out the day before Thanksgiving that he had liver cancer. Yet, again, I was amazed that he and my grandma were having us all over for dinner. Now, I "get it". I called my gramps from my aunts to see if we could come and visit early, as we would not be able to stay late into the night for game playing. The phone conversation, like any other phone conversation with him, was short and uncomfortable, but he said that it would be fine for us to come early. I took my camera, but could not bring myself to take any pictures when I knew in my heart of hearts it was his final hours/days. We visited and spoke of stories of old times. My gramps was on morphine by then, so he was in and out of the conversation, and took turns sitting up and laying down. I think he knew he was dying, as kept asking my husband and I what we wanted that was his? I think he offered us Bryer Horses, old pictures, trophies, etc., to which we both turned down. I wasn't ready to say good-bye and no material item could replace the life-time of memories that I held in my heart. At one point my gramps dissappeared from the room and it was a length of time before he returned. My husband and I spoke amongst ourselves and couldn't decide if he had gone to the bathroom, went to take a nap, or perhaps passed on, out of sight. My gramps returned with a closed hand, and as he had, many times prior, in his younger years, slipped a couple bills into my hand. We weren't able to stay for dinner, so it was his way of telling us to eat out, on him. I reluctantly accepted the 2 twenties, knowing full well it would be the final $ I ever received from him. I debated about keeping it at home as a token of his life, or putting it in the bank and saving it, thinking he would like that, but in the end it was used to purchase funeral clothes for my husband and sister. I knew gramps would of wanted me to do that. My gramps passed on 4 days later, Nov. 30th, 2003. My gramps family was of ut-most importance to him, and I found it fitting once again that he asked to speak with them in his final hours. It is my understanding that his sister and 1 brother, as well as, his wife, were with him at his home, when he passed on. I also understand that other family members went in 1 at a time to have final parting words before his death. I look back and realize now, what a day that must of been for my grandfather to be able to see, talk to, and say good-bye to so many of us that Thanksgiving Day and in the days following. My parting words to him, through tear filled eyes, were "I love you, gramps", to which he replied, "I love you too, Sugar". I feel blessed to have known and felt that from him my entire life. My gramps was big into games, with one of his favorites being Uno followed closely by Tripoly (an all nighter), and most recently, Sequence. I don't know if he really liked the games so much as he did, the getting together to play them, and the competition. We still up-hold the game playing tradition in our family, including, the above mentioned games. I think, we secretly as a family, wanted that tradition to carry on. My gramps was also famous for getting us turned on to Monical's Pizza. His generous spirit often took the family or entire church there after Sunday Church and for special occasions, like birthdays. My grandma has continued the tradition. Immediately following my grandfathers' visitation we visited a local Monicals to chow, and honor him. I thought of how proud he would be of us sticking together. My gramps never much liked the water, yet had a pool put in, so the family/grandkids would have something to do when we came over.
My gramps followed the tradition of his mother in his love for the color red. I, and many others in the family carry on that tradition. It wasn't un-common to see the color red at his or his mother's visitation or funeral. My gramps walked with a swift step and took his boots off with an old cricket boot jack. Each time I am out and about and someone yells at me to, "slow down, you're walking too fast", I blame it on my gramps, and trying to keep up with him at the horse shows. My gramps was all about fairness and many times opened his home for a grandchild to stay at or move in. He also took turns allowing many of us to show miniature horses for him. He was cautious in not letting us show the stallions, as thought they might "hurt us." My gramps had lots of prize horses over the years including: Delight; Prince; Queeny; Thumbalina; Top Cat; my grandma's horse, Charm, and the one and only, Boone's Little Buckeroo. My gramps love for his horses was un-ser-mountable. I knew he was sick when he was no longer going outside to see them. It was only fitting that he passed away at home, surrounded on 3 sides, by fences full of horses. Over the years my gramps raised many animals including: peacocks, japanese deer, 1 wild deer, Flag, puppies, miniature goats, miniature donkeys, chickens, etc., but none held a candle to his love for his miniature horse collection. When you live in a small town you go to field trips at my grandpa's farm.
My senior year, classmates were still talking of the fun of visiting my gramps farm in kindergarten, watching 1 horse have a baby, washing our hands outside in an old wash tub, and eating Rice Krispie Treats made by my grandma. My gramps had many wonderful, "perfect" horses born on his farm, but it is also important that you know that while trying to perfect the miniature breed, he also had loses and some horses that were not as "perfect". One of these such dwarf horses was called, "Little Guy". Most people would of probably sold this horse off or given it away, but not my gramps. Little Guy had the run of the farm, literally. He could fit under the fences, and rather than add more boards, he soon became the farm "dog". Visitors took to Little Guy like none other, esp. kids and others who could relate to his handi-caps. My gramps had offers to sell Little Guy, but he didn't want him to end up a circus show, so he kept him on the original farm until Little Guy passed away many years later. That's the kind of man my gramps was. At his service the preacher ended with a final quote of, "It did not matter if you were a "Buckeroo" or just a "Little Guy", he had time for you. And I think all who knew of the story, including me, lost it. When I was in junior high we were asked to interview someone we admired. I chose my grandpa. I walked next door with my pad, paper, and armed with my mom's tape recorder and prepared for what was going to be the best interview ever. I prepared lots of good questions and hung on every word my gramps had to say. I just knew it was going to be good. I ran across that tape when cleaning my bedroom at my parents and though it's full of static and muffled, it is perhaps the best piece of his history I own. Our interview occured on Sept. 11th and without the tape in front of me, I am uncertain of the year. I find it, again fitting, that after 9/11 when the tradgedy of the Twin Towers occured, that years earlier, without warning of the future, history would be made in a good way. It wasn't what my gramps had to say that day, 'cause boy, did I try, but rather what he didn't say, and the sound of his voice, that now, only echoes in my mind. You see, my gramps wouldn't speak of his military days where most didn't make it back alive, he wouldn't speak of difficult times where he lost ones he loved to illness, he wouldn't speak of troubled times when it was hard to make ends meet, he wouldn't speak of tearful times when he was dissappointed by family and friends, and he wouldn't speak of times of despair when his own health was at risk. That just wasn't the type of man that he was. I believe my gramps would tell you that he lived a full life. That was evident by the people and lives that he touched at his visitation, and again at his funeral. Neighbors who had never stepped foot in a church came, people he hadn't seen in years sent flowers, my step-cousin who was stationed in Iraq sent a heart-felt and tearful note to be shared, in which he stated about how he hoped he could be 1/2 the man my gramps had been to him to his own kids, and people came from many towns, and states including IL, IN, TX, etc. It was quite a nice tribute, to such a man, who meant so much to us all. It was such a nice healing, to see so many, whom meant so much to him. The funeral procession stretched for miles among windy, country, roads to the cemetary. We passed the farm on the way and people literally stopped in front of the house to pay tribute. It brought joy to my heart and tears to my eyes to witness such a wonderful act of kindness. Horses, that in earlier days had run free in the front pastures, were pinned up, and the farm had a sense of silence, and sadness all in one. It was again, only fitting that the grandchildren who meant so much to my gramps, were chosen to be his paul-bearers and each arrived, as he would of liked, in their own style, ranging from jeans to suit.
My gramps had some great friends over the years in his horse business and in his life. I am thankful to them for that. I give my ut-most thanks now, to the Eberth family for their purchase of my grandpa's prize horse, Boone's Little Buckeroo. It is literally because of them that my grandpa's life was extended. He could not of afforded his $100,000 heart operation without the sale of this horse. I can not imagine how different all of our lives would be without the extra years we were given with this man. I think, that the Lord knew, we weren't ready to "let go" quite yet. Thank you from the bottom of a very grateful heart for giving my family and I, the years, the memories, and the chance to better say good bye. You will never know how special you are to all of us.
I am honored, that I was able to visit your farm, with my gramps, and see, and pet Buckeroo. I secretly always dreamed of the day, my gramps would purchase him back, and they would grow old, and pass away on the farm, together.
I know, that while our loss of gramps is difficult, that his loss of Buckeroo, 1st, would have been much more difficult.
It has always been my dream to own, and show miniatures, and I think that gramps would be ok, if I could come and purchase my 1st one from you. I plan to save up. I think when he asked me to up-hold his legacy, he meant his name and his business? I will do my best, and I thank you for doing the same.
I struggled for almost a full year with missing my gramps daily, and each time an older gentleman would pass me and especially smile, my eyes would feel with tears, remembering that infectious smile of gramps. My Lord and my husband are to credit for my strength to get through. I know that others, such as my cousin, have not yet, accepted his death. She said it best, when she said, she figures one day she will just walk into his house, and he will get up from the table, and say, "hello, sugar". I had to smile. I ask for your prayers for those who are having difficulty dealing with, or who have yet to experience the pain, of such an immense lose.
I am a firm believer that all things happen for a reason. We don't always understand the reason behind everything, or the timing, but I figure it isn't for us to understand, or else we would be in charge.
I had an idea last year, to make a memory garden at the house, in the shape of a horseshoe, to honor my gramps, and to allow others to donate plants, and to come and reflect. My gramps just loved roses and got married to his second wife in front of the rose garden at his old home. I still have the idea, and some have donated plants for the project already, but my landscapers in the family are quite busy. When it is complete, I invite all who would like to, to come and see it, and reflect as well.
Sticking to my all things happen for a reason theory, we had our trees trimmed this spring, one of which is a large cottonwood out back. It is quite messy and my husband and I have talked many times about taking it out. Our reasoning for not doing so, is that it provides shade to the entire backyard, and to our family and friends who attend our yearly 4th of July bash. If you would of told me 2 years ago that my gramps would no longer be attending, I wouldn't of believed you. I look out my kitchen door, window everyday and am reminded of the Lord's work, for, in the newly, trimmed, tree trunk, the healing has begun, and the shape it is taking on, is none other than, a HORSESHOE! I think the tree will be staying.
I once shared the story of my gramps, and Buckeroo with some college administration, to which they replied, "it sounds like something out of the movies". They thought the story should be told, and I agree. If anyone out there knows of anyone in Hollywood or anywhere else that would be interested, I think the legacy could live on. We are so in tune now days with the bad and evil in the world, that I think it would be nice to tell the story of the man who was a Chritian, Leader, Husband, Father, Grandfather, Great-Grandfather, Military Man, but mostly a friend to everyone who knew him. We know that he is waiting for each of us in a place where there is no crying, no pain, no worries, no stress, and no strife. Let us each live a Christian Life too, modeled after him, so that we too, can experience that life and legacy that the Lord has in place for us. I think that the Lord calls the angels home on Sunday, as he did, in the case of my gramps.
God Bless you all,
Sincerely, Angela
- Angela Bacon
GLASFORD - Lowell K. Boone, 79, of Glasford died at 7:34 a.m. Sunday, Nov. 30, 2003, at his residence.
Born Aug. 8, 1924, in Carlisle, Ind., to Frank and Pauline Neal Boone, he married Margaret M. Pigg on Dec., 26, 1947, in Indiana. She died April 5, 1976.
He later married Marie J. Hillman Murphy on July 2, 1977, in Glasford. She survives.
Also surviving are on daughter, Joyce (and Don) Kuntz of Glasford; one son, Keith (and Amy) of Glasford; five stepdaughters, Debra Scheerer of Canton, Diana (and Richard) Keefer, Judy Welker, and Vicki (and John) Welker, all of Middle Grove, and Janette (and Richard) Hadsall of Glasford; 17 grandchildren; eight great-grandchildren; five brothers, Norval (and Norma) of Carlisle, Alan (and Ginny) of Anderson, Ind., Donis (and Ruby) of Crawfordsville, Ind., Carl and (Beverly) of Dugger, Ind., and Gary (and Elaine) of Linton, Ind.; and one sister, Doris Bedwell of LaPorte, Ind.
He was preceded in death by one granddaughter.
A World War II Army veteran, he was a member of American Legion Post 35.
He worked at Caterpillar Inc. for 33 years, retiring from planning in Mapleton in 1980. He was past secretary and president of the Glasford Telephone Co. for more than 30 years and a former leader of the Timber Tigers 4-H Club for more than 20 years.
He was one of the most prominent miniature horse breeders in the nation. He was a member of the Heart of America Miniature Equine Club, the Illinois Miniature Horse Owners Club and Mid-America Miniature Horse Club. He was a life-time member of the American Shetland Pony Club and also a lifetime member and past board member of the American Miniature Horse Association. He was past president of the International Miniature Horse Registry.
He was a member of the Glasford Optimist Club.
He was a member of Canton Church of Christ, where he served as treasurer.
Services will be at 10 a.m. Friday at Davison-Fulton Bartonville Chapel. Visitation will be from 5 to 8 p.m. Thursday at the funeral home. Burial will be in Lancaster Cemetery.
Memorials may be made to his church.
Lowell K Boone owner and founder of Boone's Minature Horses He is missed by all who knew him He was a gentle man and took time with his children and grandchildren and they all loved him dearly. He was a decendent of the Famous Daniel Boone also. He is survived by his second wife Marie and children and grandchildren and many many friends .
.His prize horse was the Little Buckaroo.When Lowell needed heart surgery he was forced to sell his prize horse The Little Buckaroo to pay for the surgery..When Buckeroo was two years old he was the International Grand Champion. He also was International Grand Champion the following year in 1981. He wasn't shown in 1982 because of a broken leg. In 1983 he and Lowell were undefeated. HE SHOWED IN 5 SHOWS AND TOOK 5 GRAND CHAMPIONS! The last show was at the A.M.H.A national show where Lowell showed him for his new owners and won the A.M.H.A. National Grand Champion. The Eberts retired him and he has been producing champion and grand champions at Little King Farm ever since,which is something Lowell was very happy about.
This was written by his granddaughter Angela
Dear Gramps,
A day doesn't pass that I don't miss you. As the tears stream down my cheeks, I reflect of your life, your leadership, and your legacy. I will do my best to make sure that I up-hold your last request to me, to "let your legacy live on". I love you today, tomorrow, and always. Sincerely, Your Grandaughter, Angela
Dear Family, Friends, and anyone else reading this, who may, or may not of known Lowell K. Boone,
I am writing this, so that you, and others may know, and find strength in the man we knew and loved. The below story and clips are told in my words, from my view point, and may vary depending on who else you talk to. Smiley Face!
I think it is most important that you know my grandfather as a religious person. He was thee, or one of thee, founders of the Canton, IL Church of Christ. At his visitation even people who attended the church only occassionally hugged me and told me how important it was that that church not close due to his death. I agreed and shared in the pain of their loss. Collections were taken in his name, and the $ used to improve the church, with much over due carpet and paint, etc. I think he would of been proud of that. It was not uncommon for such a small church to struggle financially to make ends meet, and it also was as equally common for my grandfather to reach into his own pocket to find $ to pay the heating or phone bill, or to give the underpaid preacher a small raise. I found it only fitting at his death that one of my grandfathers' students in church, became a preacher, and performed the tearful service. I now share the wonderful work of Steven Bonk as read the day of the service:
There is a pair of well-worn boots, that shoed my lifetime friend, they carried him down the isle at church, and into the horses'pen. Why do these boots appear so worn, what stories can they tell? They speak of that walk of a certain man and years when he was well. Yet this does not explain, you say, the depth of scuff and wear, that's only because you do not know his burdens and his cares. For the weight that caused wear, for the biggest part, was the loving concern of an oversized heart. Some will see those empty old boots and give no second thought, To the life and times of my noble friend and the lessons that he taught. But I'll reflect on those dusty, scarred boots and the tasks that they've seen done, Not for the flaws, the dirt or the scars, but for the race that they've run.
Steve put it best when he spoke of gramps "over-sized heart." My grandfather loved his family and friends very much, and I found it again, fitting, that he put my mom in charge of making sure everyone knew that he loved them, upon his death. She, like him, has a "gift of gab". Gramps provided many things to many people over the years. These things include, but were not limited to: friendship, companionship, leadership, commaraderie, love, laughs, fun, fellowship, and for material things: cars, homes, clothes, $, land, horses, etc. My gramps never expected anything in return for his generosity. He was giving, even in his final hours and days. I saw my gramps for the last time Thanksgiving Day 2003. He/we found out the day before Thanksgiving that he had liver cancer. Yet, again, I was amazed that he and my grandma were having us all over for dinner. Now, I "get it". I called my gramps from my aunts to see if we could come and visit early, as we would not be able to stay late into the night for game playing. The phone conversation, like any other phone conversation with him, was short and uncomfortable, but he said that it would be fine for us to come early. I took my camera, but could not bring myself to take any pictures when I knew in my heart of hearts it was his final hours/days. We visited and spoke of stories of old times. My gramps was on morphine by then, so he was in and out of the conversation, and took turns sitting up and laying down. I think he knew he was dying, as kept asking my husband and I what we wanted that was his? I think he offered us Bryer Horses, old pictures, trophies, etc., to which we both turned down. I wasn't ready to say good-bye and no material item could replace the life-time of memories that I held in my heart. At one point my gramps dissappeared from the room and it was a length of time before he returned. My husband and I spoke amongst ourselves and couldn't decide if he had gone to the bathroom, went to take a nap, or perhaps passed on, out of sight. My gramps returned with a closed hand, and as he had, many times prior, in his younger years, slipped a couple bills into my hand. We weren't able to stay for dinner, so it was his way of telling us to eat out, on him. I reluctantly accepted the 2 twenties, knowing full well it would be the final $ I ever received from him. I debated about keeping it at home as a token of his life, or putting it in the bank and saving it, thinking he would like that, but in the end it was used to purchase funeral clothes for my husband and sister. I knew gramps would of wanted me to do that. My gramps passed on 4 days later, Nov. 30th, 2003. My gramps family was of ut-most importance to him, and I found it fitting once again that he asked to speak with them in his final hours. It is my understanding that his sister and 1 brother, as well as, his wife, were with him at his home, when he passed on. I also understand that other family members went in 1 at a time to have final parting words before his death. I look back and realize now, what a day that must of been for my grandfather to be able to see, talk to, and say good-bye to so many of us that Thanksgiving Day and in the days following. My parting words to him, through tear filled eyes, were "I love you, gramps", to which he replied, "I love you too, Sugar". I feel blessed to have known and felt that from him my entire life. My gramps was big into games, with one of his favorites being Uno followed closely by Tripoly (an all nighter), and most recently, Sequence. I don't know if he really liked the games so much as he did, the getting together to play them, and the competition. We still up-hold the game playing tradition in our family, including, the above mentioned games. I think, we secretly as a family, wanted that tradition to carry on. My gramps was also famous for getting us turned on to Monical's Pizza. His generous spirit often took the family or entire church there after Sunday Church and for special occasions, like birthdays. My grandma has continued the tradition. Immediately following my grandfathers' visitation we visited a local Monicals to chow, and honor him. I thought of how proud he would be of us sticking together. My gramps never much liked the water, yet had a pool put in, so the family/grandkids would have something to do when we came over.
My gramps followed the tradition of his mother in his love for the color red. I, and many others in the family carry on that tradition. It wasn't un-common to see the color red at his or his mother's visitation or funeral. My gramps walked with a swift step and took his boots off with an old cricket boot jack. Each time I am out and about and someone yells at me to, "slow down, you're walking too fast", I blame it on my gramps, and trying to keep up with him at the horse shows. My gramps was all about fairness and many times opened his home for a grandchild to stay at or move in. He also took turns allowing many of us to show miniature horses for him. He was cautious in not letting us show the stallions, as thought they might "hurt us." My gramps had lots of prize horses over the years including: Delight; Prince; Queeny; Thumbalina; Top Cat; my grandma's horse, Charm, and the one and only, Boone's Little Buckeroo. My gramps love for his horses was un-ser-mountable. I knew he was sick when he was no longer going outside to see them. It was only fitting that he passed away at home, surrounded on 3 sides, by fences full of horses. Over the years my gramps raised many animals including: peacocks, japanese deer, 1 wild deer, Flag, puppies, miniature goats, miniature donkeys, chickens, etc., but none held a candle to his love for his miniature horse collection. When you live in a small town you go to field trips at my grandpa's farm.
My senior year, classmates were still talking of the fun of visiting my gramps farm in kindergarten, watching 1 horse have a baby, washing our hands outside in an old wash tub, and eating Rice Krispie Treats made by my grandma. My gramps had many wonderful, "perfect" horses born on his farm, but it is also important that you know that while trying to perfect the miniature breed, he also had loses and some horses that were not as "perfect". One of these such dwarf horses was called, "Little Guy". Most people would of probably sold this horse off or given it away, but not my gramps. Little Guy had the run of the farm, literally. He could fit under the fences, and rather than add more boards, he soon became the farm "dog". Visitors took to Little Guy like none other, esp. kids and others who could relate to his handi-caps. My gramps had offers to sell Little Guy, but he didn't want him to end up a circus show, so he kept him on the original farm until Little Guy passed away many years later. That's the kind of man my gramps was. At his service the preacher ended with a final quote of, "It did not matter if you were a "Buckeroo" or just a "Little Guy", he had time for you. And I think all who knew of the story, including me, lost it. When I was in junior high we were asked to interview someone we admired. I chose my grandpa. I walked next door with my pad, paper, and armed with my mom's tape recorder and prepared for what was going to be the best interview ever. I prepared lots of good questions and hung on every word my gramps had to say. I just knew it was going to be good. I ran across that tape when cleaning my bedroom at my parents and though it's full of static and muffled, it is perhaps the best piece of his history I own. Our interview occured on Sept. 11th and without the tape in front of me, I am uncertain of the year. I find it, again fitting, that after 9/11 when the tradgedy of the Twin Towers occured, that years earlier, without warning of the future, history would be made in a good way. It wasn't what my gramps had to say that day, 'cause boy, did I try, but rather what he didn't say, and the sound of his voice, that now, only echoes in my mind. You see, my gramps wouldn't speak of his military days where most didn't make it back alive, he wouldn't speak of difficult times where he lost ones he loved to illness, he wouldn't speak of troubled times when it was hard to make ends meet, he wouldn't speak of tearful times when he was dissappointed by family and friends, and he wouldn't speak of times of despair when his own health was at risk. That just wasn't the type of man that he was. I believe my gramps would tell you that he lived a full life. That was evident by the people and lives that he touched at his visitation, and again at his funeral. Neighbors who had never stepped foot in a church came, people he hadn't seen in years sent flowers, my step-cousin who was stationed in Iraq sent a heart-felt and tearful note to be shared, in which he stated about how he hoped he could be 1/2 the man my gramps had been to him to his own kids, and people came from many towns, and states including IL, IN, TX, etc. It was quite a nice tribute, to such a man, who meant so much to us all. It was such a nice healing, to see so many, whom meant so much to him. The funeral procession stretched for miles among windy, country, roads to the cemetary. We passed the farm on the way and people literally stopped in front of the house to pay tribute. It brought joy to my heart and tears to my eyes to witness such a wonderful act of kindness. Horses, that in earlier days had run free in the front pastures, were pinned up, and the farm had a sense of silence, and sadness all in one. It was again, only fitting that the grandchildren who meant so much to my gramps, were chosen to be his paul-bearers and each arrived, as he would of liked, in their own style, ranging from jeans to suit.
My gramps had some great friends over the years in his horse business and in his life. I am thankful to them for that. I give my ut-most thanks now, to the Eberth family for their purchase of my grandpa's prize horse, Boone's Little Buckeroo. It is literally because of them that my grandpa's life was extended. He could not of afforded his $100,000 heart operation without the sale of this horse. I can not imagine how different all of our lives would be without the extra years we were given with this man. I think, that the Lord knew, we weren't ready to "let go" quite yet. Thank you from the bottom of a very grateful heart for giving my family and I, the years, the memories, and the chance to better say good bye. You will never know how special you are to all of us.
I am honored, that I was able to visit your farm, with my gramps, and see, and pet Buckeroo. I secretly always dreamed of the day, my gramps would purchase him back, and they would grow old, and pass away on the farm, together.
I know, that while our loss of gramps is difficult, that his loss of Buckeroo, 1st, would have been much more difficult.
It has always been my dream to own, and show miniatures, and I think that gramps would be ok, if I could come and purchase my 1st one from you. I plan to save up. I think when he asked me to up-hold his legacy, he meant his name and his business? I will do my best, and I thank you for doing the same.
I struggled for almost a full year with missing my gramps daily, and each time an older gentleman would pass me and especially smile, my eyes would feel with tears, remembering that infectious smile of gramps. My Lord and my husband are to credit for my strength to get through. I know that others, such as my cousin, have not yet, accepted his death. She said it best, when she said, she figures one day she will just walk into his house, and he will get up from the table, and say, "hello, sugar". I had to smile. I ask for your prayers for those who are having difficulty dealing with, or who have yet to experience the pain, of such an immense lose.
I am a firm believer that all things happen for a reason. We don't always understand the reason behind everything, or the timing, but I figure it isn't for us to understand, or else we would be in charge.
I had an idea last year, to make a memory garden at the house, in the shape of a horseshoe, to honor my gramps, and to allow others to donate plants, and to come and reflect. My gramps just loved roses and got married to his second wife in front of the rose garden at his old home. I still have the idea, and some have donated plants for the project already, but my landscapers in the family are quite busy. When it is complete, I invite all who would like to, to come and see it, and reflect as well.
Sticking to my all things happen for a reason theory, we had our trees trimmed this spring, one of which is a large cottonwood out back. It is quite messy and my husband and I have talked many times about taking it out. Our reasoning for not doing so, is that it provides shade to the entire backyard, and to our family and friends who attend our yearly 4th of July bash. If you would of told me 2 years ago that my gramps would no longer be attending, I wouldn't of believed you. I look out my kitchen door, window everyday and am reminded of the Lord's work, for, in the newly, trimmed, tree trunk, the healing has begun, and the shape it is taking on, is none other than, a HORSESHOE! I think the tree will be staying.
I once shared the story of my gramps, and Buckeroo with some college administration, to which they replied, "it sounds like something out of the movies". They thought the story should be told, and I agree. If anyone out there knows of anyone in Hollywood or anywhere else that would be interested, I think the legacy could live on. We are so in tune now days with the bad and evil in the world, that I think it would be nice to tell the story of the man who was a Chritian, Leader, Husband, Father, Grandfather, Great-Grandfather, Military Man, but mostly a friend to everyone who knew him. We know that he is waiting for each of us in a place where there is no crying, no pain, no worries, no stress, and no strife. Let us each live a Christian Life too, modeled after him, so that we too, can experience that life and legacy that the Lord has in place for us. I think that the Lord calls the angels home on Sunday, as he did, in the case of my gramps.
God Bless you all,
Sincerely, Angela
- Angela Bacon
Lowell Boone
GLASFORD - Lowell K. Boone, 79, of Glasford died at 7:34 a.m. Sunday, Nov. 30, 2003, at his residence.
Born Aug. 8, 1924, in Carlisle, Ind., to Frank and Pauline Neal Boone, he married Margaret M. Pigg on Dec., 26, 1947, in Indiana. She died April 5, 1976.
He later married Marie J. Hillman Murphy on July 2, 1977, in Glasford. She survives.
Also surviving are on daughter, Joyce (and Don) Kuntz of Glasford; one son, Keith (and Amy) of Glasford; five stepdaughters, Debra Scheerer of Canton, Diana (and Richard) Keefer, Judy Welker, and Vicki (and John) Welker, all of Middle Grove, and Janette (and Richard) Hadsall of Glasford; 17 grandchildren; eight great-grandchildren; five brothers, Norval (and Norma) of Carlisle, Alan (and Ginny) of Anderson, Ind., Donis (and Ruby) of Crawfordsville, Ind., Carl and (Beverly) of Dugger, Ind., and Gary (and Elaine) of Linton, Ind.; and one sister, Doris Bedwell of LaPorte, Ind.
He was preceded in death by one granddaughter.
A World War II Army veteran, he was a member of American Legion Post 35.
He worked at Caterpillar Inc. for 33 years, retiring from planning in Mapleton in 1980. He was past secretary and president of the Glasford Telephone Co. for more than 30 years and a former leader of the Timber Tigers 4-H Club for more than 20 years.
He was one of the most prominent miniature horse breeders in the nation. He was a member of the Heart of America Miniature Equine Club, the Illinois Miniature Horse Owners Club and Mid-America Miniature Horse Club. He was a life-time member of the American Shetland Pony Club and also a lifetime member and past board member of the American Miniature Horse Association. He was past president of the International Miniature Horse Registry.
He was a member of the Glasford Optimist Club.
He was a member of Canton Church of Christ, where he served as treasurer.
Services will be at 10 a.m. Friday at Davison-Fulton Bartonville Chapel. Visitation will be from 5 to 8 p.m. Thursday at the funeral home. Burial will be in Lancaster Cemetery.
Memorials may be made to his church.
Lowell K Boone owner and founder of Boone's Minature Horses He is missed by all who knew him He was a gentle man and took time with his children and grandchildren and they all loved him dearly. He was a decendent of the Famous Daniel Boone also. He is survived by his second wife Marie and children and grandchildren and many many friends .
.His prize horse was the Little Buckaroo.When Lowell needed heart surgery he was forced to sell his prize horse The Little Buckaroo to pay for the surgery..When Buckeroo was two years old he was the International Grand Champion. He also was International Grand Champion the following year in 1981. He wasn't shown in 1982 because of a broken leg. In 1983 he and Lowell were undefeated. HE SHOWED IN 5 SHOWS AND TOOK 5 GRAND CHAMPIONS! The last show was at the A.M.H.A national show where Lowell showed him for his new owners and won the A.M.H.A. National Grand Champion. The Eberts retired him and he has been producing champion and grand champions at Little King Farm ever since,which is something Lowell was very happy about.
This was written by his granddaughter Angela
Dear Gramps,
A day doesn't pass that I don't miss you. As the tears stream down my cheeks, I reflect of your life, your leadership, and your legacy. I will do my best to make sure that I up-hold your last request to me, to "let your legacy live on". I love you today, tomorrow, and always. Sincerely, Your Grandaughter, Angela
Dear Family, Friends, and anyone else reading this, who may, or may not of known Lowell K. Boone,
I am writing this, so that you, and others may know, and find strength in the man we knew and loved. The below story and clips are told in my words, from my view point, and may vary depending on who else you talk to. Smiley Face!
I think it is most important that you know my grandfather as a religious person. He was thee, or one of thee, founders of the Canton, IL Church of Christ. At his visitation even people who attended the church only occassionally hugged me and told me how important it was that that church not close due to his death. I agreed and shared in the pain of their loss. Collections were taken in his name, and the $ used to improve the church, with much over due carpet and paint, etc. I think he would of been proud of that. It was not uncommon for such a small church to struggle financially to make ends meet, and it also was as equally common for my grandfather to reach into his own pocket to find $ to pay the heating or phone bill, or to give the underpaid preacher a small raise. I found it only fitting at his death that one of my grandfathers' students in church, became a preacher, and performed the tearful service. I now share the wonderful work of Steven Bonk as read the day of the service:
There is a pair of well-worn boots, that shoed my lifetime friend, they carried him down the isle at church, and into the horses'pen. Why do these boots appear so worn, what stories can they tell? They speak of that walk of a certain man and years when he was well. Yet this does not explain, you say, the depth of scuff and wear, that's only because you do not know his burdens and his cares. For the weight that caused wear, for the biggest part, was the loving concern of an oversized heart. Some will see those empty old boots and give no second thought, To the life and times of my noble friend and the lessons that he taught. But I'll reflect on those dusty, scarred boots and the tasks that they've seen done, Not for the flaws, the dirt or the scars, but for the race that they've run.
Steve put it best when he spoke of gramps "over-sized heart." My grandfather loved his family and friends very much, and I found it again, fitting, that he put my mom in charge of making sure everyone knew that he loved them, upon his death. She, like him, has a "gift of gab". Gramps provided many things to many people over the years. These things include, but were not limited to: friendship, companionship, leadership, commaraderie, love, laughs, fun, fellowship, and for material things: cars, homes, clothes, $, land, horses, etc. My gramps never expected anything in return for his generosity. He was giving, even in his final hours and days. I saw my gramps for the last time Thanksgiving Day 2003. He/we found out the day before Thanksgiving that he had liver cancer. Yet, again, I was amazed that he and my grandma were having us all over for dinner. Now, I "get it". I called my gramps from my aunts to see if we could come and visit early, as we would not be able to stay late into the night for game playing. The phone conversation, like any other phone conversation with him, was short and uncomfortable, but he said that it would be fine for us to come early. I took my camera, but could not bring myself to take any pictures when I knew in my heart of hearts it was his final hours/days. We visited and spoke of stories of old times. My gramps was on morphine by then, so he was in and out of the conversation, and took turns sitting up and laying down. I think he knew he was dying, as kept asking my husband and I what we wanted that was his? I think he offered us Bryer Horses, old pictures, trophies, etc., to which we both turned down. I wasn't ready to say good-bye and no material item could replace the life-time of memories that I held in my heart. At one point my gramps dissappeared from the room and it was a length of time before he returned. My husband and I spoke amongst ourselves and couldn't decide if he had gone to the bathroom, went to take a nap, or perhaps passed on, out of sight. My gramps returned with a closed hand, and as he had, many times prior, in his younger years, slipped a couple bills into my hand. We weren't able to stay for dinner, so it was his way of telling us to eat out, on him. I reluctantly accepted the 2 twenties, knowing full well it would be the final $ I ever received from him. I debated about keeping it at home as a token of his life, or putting it in the bank and saving it, thinking he would like that, but in the end it was used to purchase funeral clothes for my husband and sister. I knew gramps would of wanted me to do that. My gramps passed on 4 days later, Nov. 30th, 2003. My gramps family was of ut-most importance to him, and I found it fitting once again that he asked to speak with them in his final hours. It is my understanding that his sister and 1 brother, as well as, his wife, were with him at his home, when he passed on. I also understand that other family members went in 1 at a time to have final parting words before his death. I look back and realize now, what a day that must of been for my grandfather to be able to see, talk to, and say good-bye to so many of us that Thanksgiving Day and in the days following. My parting words to him, through tear filled eyes, were "I love you, gramps", to which he replied, "I love you too, Sugar". I feel blessed to have known and felt that from him my entire life. My gramps was big into games, with one of his favorites being Uno followed closely by Tripoly (an all nighter), and most recently, Sequence. I don't know if he really liked the games so much as he did, the getting together to play them, and the competition. We still up-hold the game playing tradition in our family, including, the above mentioned games. I think, we secretly as a family, wanted that tradition to carry on. My gramps was also famous for getting us turned on to Monical's Pizza. His generous spirit often took the family or entire church there after Sunday Church and for special occasions, like birthdays. My grandma has continued the tradition. Immediately following my grandfathers' visitation we visited a local Monicals to chow, and honor him. I thought of how proud he would be of us sticking together. My gramps never much liked the water, yet had a pool put in, so the family/grandkids would have something to do when we came over.
My gramps followed the tradition of his mother in his love for the color red. I, and many others in the family carry on that tradition. It wasn't un-common to see the color red at his or his mother's visitation or funeral. My gramps walked with a swift step and took his boots off with an old cricket boot jack. Each time I am out and about and someone yells at me to, "slow down, you're walking too fast", I blame it on my gramps, and trying to keep up with him at the horse shows. My gramps was all about fairness and many times opened his home for a grandchild to stay at or move in. He also took turns allowing many of us to show miniature horses for him. He was cautious in not letting us show the stallions, as thought they might "hurt us." My gramps had lots of prize horses over the years including: Delight; Prince; Queeny; Thumbalina; Top Cat; my grandma's horse, Charm, and the one and only, Boone's Little Buckeroo. My gramps love for his horses was un-ser-mountable. I knew he was sick when he was no longer going outside to see them. It was only fitting that he passed away at home, surrounded on 3 sides, by fences full of horses. Over the years my gramps raised many animals including: peacocks, japanese deer, 1 wild deer, Flag, puppies, miniature goats, miniature donkeys, chickens, etc., but none held a candle to his love for his miniature horse collection. When you live in a small town you go to field trips at my grandpa's farm.
My senior year, classmates were still talking of the fun of visiting my gramps farm in kindergarten, watching 1 horse have a baby, washing our hands outside in an old wash tub, and eating Rice Krispie Treats made by my grandma. My gramps had many wonderful, "perfect" horses born on his farm, but it is also important that you know that while trying to perfect the miniature breed, he also had loses and some horses that were not as "perfect". One of these such dwarf horses was called, "Little Guy". Most people would of probably sold this horse off or given it away, but not my gramps. Little Guy had the run of the farm, literally. He could fit under the fences, and rather than add more boards, he soon became the farm "dog". Visitors took to Little Guy like none other, esp. kids and others who could relate to his handi-caps. My gramps had offers to sell Little Guy, but he didn't want him to end up a circus show, so he kept him on the original farm until Little Guy passed away many years later. That's the kind of man my gramps was. At his service the preacher ended with a final quote of, "It did not matter if you were a "Buckeroo" or just a "Little Guy", he had time for you. And I think all who knew of the story, including me, lost it. When I was in junior high we were asked to interview someone we admired. I chose my grandpa. I walked next door with my pad, paper, and armed with my mom's tape recorder and prepared for what was going to be the best interview ever. I prepared lots of good questions and hung on every word my gramps had to say. I just knew it was going to be good. I ran across that tape when cleaning my bedroom at my parents and though it's full of static and muffled, it is perhaps the best piece of his history I own. Our interview occured on Sept. 11th and without the tape in front of me, I am uncertain of the year. I find it, again fitting, that after 9/11 when the tradgedy of the Twin Towers occured, that years earlier, without warning of the future, history would be made in a good way. It wasn't what my gramps had to say that day, 'cause boy, did I try, but rather what he didn't say, and the sound of his voice, that now, only echoes in my mind. You see, my gramps wouldn't speak of his military days where most didn't make it back alive, he wouldn't speak of difficult times where he lost ones he loved to illness, he wouldn't speak of troubled times when it was hard to make ends meet, he wouldn't speak of tearful times when he was dissappointed by family and friends, and he wouldn't speak of times of despair when his own health was at risk. That just wasn't the type of man that he was. I believe my gramps would tell you that he lived a full life. That was evident by the people and lives that he touched at his visitation, and again at his funeral. Neighbors who had never stepped foot in a church came, people he hadn't seen in years sent flowers, my step-cousin who was stationed in Iraq sent a heart-felt and tearful note to be shared, in which he stated about how he hoped he could be 1/2 the man my gramps had been to him to his own kids, and people came from many towns, and states including IL, IN, TX, etc. It was quite a nice tribute, to such a man, who meant so much to us all. It was such a nice healing, to see so many, whom meant so much to him. The funeral procession stretched for miles among windy, country, roads to the cemetary. We passed the farm on the way and people literally stopped in front of the house to pay tribute. It brought joy to my heart and tears to my eyes to witness such a wonderful act of kindness. Horses, that in earlier days had run free in the front pastures, were pinned up, and the farm had a sense of silence, and sadness all in one. It was again, only fitting that the grandchildren who meant so much to my gramps, were chosen to be his paul-bearers and each arrived, as he would of liked, in their own style, ranging from jeans to suit.
My gramps had some great friends over the years in his horse business and in his life. I am thankful to them for that. I give my ut-most thanks now, to the Eberth family for their purchase of my grandpa's prize horse, Boone's Little Buckeroo. It is literally because of them that my grandpa's life was extended. He could not of afforded his $100,000 heart operation without the sale of this horse. I can not imagine how different all of our lives would be without the extra years we were given with this man. I think, that the Lord knew, we weren't ready to "let go" quite yet. Thank you from the bottom of a very grateful heart for giving my family and I, the years, the memories, and the chance to better say good bye. You will never know how special you are to all of us.
I am honored, that I was able to visit your farm, with my gramps, and see, and pet Buckeroo. I secretly always dreamed of the day, my gramps would purchase him back, and they would grow old, and pass away on the farm, together.
I know, that while our loss of gramps is difficult, that his loss of Buckeroo, 1st, would have been much more difficult.
It has always been my dream to own, and show miniatures, and I think that gramps would be ok, if I could come and purchase my 1st one from you. I plan to save up. I think when he asked me to up-hold his legacy, he meant his name and his business? I will do my best, and I thank you for doing the same.
I struggled for almost a full year with missing my gramps daily, and each time an older gentleman would pass me and especially smile, my eyes would feel with tears, remembering that infectious smile of gramps. My Lord and my husband are to credit for my strength to get through. I know that others, such as my cousin, have not yet, accepted his death. She said it best, when she said, she figures one day she will just walk into his house, and he will get up from the table, and say, "hello, sugar". I had to smile. I ask for your prayers for those who are having difficulty dealing with, or who have yet to experience the pain, of such an immense lose.
I am a firm believer that all things happen for a reason. We don't always understand the reason behind everything, or the timing, but I figure it isn't for us to understand, or else we would be in charge.
I had an idea last year, to make a memory garden at the house, in the shape of a horseshoe, to honor my gramps, and to allow others to donate plants, and to come and reflect. My gramps just loved roses and got married to his second wife in front of the rose garden at his old home. I still have the idea, and some have donated plants for the project already, but my landscapers in the family are quite busy. When it is complete, I invite all who would like to, to come and see it, and reflect as well.
Sticking to my all things happen for a reason theory, we had our trees trimmed this spring, one of which is a large cottonwood out back. It is quite messy and my husband and I have talked many times about taking it out. Our reasoning for not doing so, is that it provides shade to the entire backyard, and to our family and friends who attend our yearly 4th of July bash. If you would of told me 2 years ago that my gramps would no longer be attending, I wouldn't of believed you. I look out my kitchen door, window everyday and am reminded of the Lord's work, for, in the newly, trimmed, tree trunk, the healing has begun, and the shape it is taking on, is none other than, a HORSESHOE! I think the tree will be staying.
I once shared the story of my gramps, and Buckeroo with some college administration, to which they replied, "it sounds like something out of the movies". They thought the story should be told, and I agree. If anyone out there knows of anyone in Hollywood or anywhere else that would be interested, I think the legacy could live on. We are so in tune now days with the bad and evil in the world, that I think it would be nice to tell the story of the man who was a Chritian, Leader, Husband, Father, Grandfather, Great-Grandfather, Military Man, but mostly a friend to everyone who knew him. We know that he is waiting for each of us in a place where there is no crying, no pain, no worries, no stress, and no strife. Let us each live a Christian Life too, modeled after him, so that we too, can experience that life and legacy that the Lord has in place for us. I think that the Lord calls the angels home on Sunday, as he did, in the case of my gramps.
God Bless you all,
Sincerely, Angela
- Angela Bacon
GLASFORD - Lowell K. Boone, 79, of Glasford died at 7:34 a.m. Sunday, Nov. 30, 2003, at his residence.
Born Aug. 8, 1924, in Carlisle, Ind., to Frank and Pauline Neal Boone, he married Margaret M. Pigg on Dec., 26, 1947, in Indiana. She died April 5, 1976.
He later married Marie J. Hillman Murphy on July 2, 1977, in Glasford. She survives.
Also surviving are on daughter, Joyce (and Don) Kuntz of Glasford; one son, Keith (and Amy) of Glasford; five stepdaughters, Debra Scheerer of Canton, Diana (and Richard) Keefer, Judy Welker, and Vicki (and John) Welker, all of Middle Grove, and Janette (and Richard) Hadsall of Glasford; 17 grandchildren; eight great-grandchildren; five brothers, Norval (and Norma) of Carlisle, Alan (and Ginny) of Anderson, Ind., Donis (and Ruby) of Crawfordsville, Ind., Carl and (Beverly) of Dugger, Ind., and Gary (and Elaine) of Linton, Ind.; and one sister, Doris Bedwell of LaPorte, Ind.
He was preceded in death by one granddaughter.
A World War II Army veteran, he was a member of American Legion Post 35.
He worked at Caterpillar Inc. for 33 years, retiring from planning in Mapleton in 1980. He was past secretary and president of the Glasford Telephone Co. for more than 30 years and a former leader of the Timber Tigers 4-H Club for more than 20 years.
He was one of the most prominent miniature horse breeders in the nation. He was a member of the Heart of America Miniature Equine Club, the Illinois Miniature Horse Owners Club and Mid-America Miniature Horse Club. He was a life-time member of the American Shetland Pony Club and also a lifetime member and past board member of the American Miniature Horse Association. He was past president of the International Miniature Horse Registry.
He was a member of the Glasford Optimist Club.
He was a member of Canton Church of Christ, where he served as treasurer.
Services will be at 10 a.m. Friday at Davison-Fulton Bartonville Chapel. Visitation will be from 5 to 8 p.m. Thursday at the funeral home. Burial will be in Lancaster Cemetery.
Memorials may be made to his church.
Lowell K Boone owner and founder of Boone's Minature Horses He is missed by all who knew him He was a gentle man and took time with his children and grandchildren and they all loved him dearly. He was a decendent of the Famous Daniel Boone also. He is survived by his second wife Marie and children and grandchildren and many many friends .
.His prize horse was the Little Buckaroo.When Lowell needed heart surgery he was forced to sell his prize horse The Little Buckaroo to pay for the surgery..When Buckeroo was two years old he was the International Grand Champion. He also was International Grand Champion the following year in 1981. He wasn't shown in 1982 because of a broken leg. In 1983 he and Lowell were undefeated. HE SHOWED IN 5 SHOWS AND TOOK 5 GRAND CHAMPIONS! The last show was at the A.M.H.A national show where Lowell showed him for his new owners and won the A.M.H.A. National Grand Champion. The Eberts retired him and he has been producing champion and grand champions at Little King Farm ever since,which is something Lowell was very happy about.
This was written by his granddaughter Angela
Dear Gramps,
A day doesn't pass that I don't miss you. As the tears stream down my cheeks, I reflect of your life, your leadership, and your legacy. I will do my best to make sure that I up-hold your last request to me, to "let your legacy live on". I love you today, tomorrow, and always. Sincerely, Your Grandaughter, Angela
Dear Family, Friends, and anyone else reading this, who may, or may not of known Lowell K. Boone,
I am writing this, so that you, and others may know, and find strength in the man we knew and loved. The below story and clips are told in my words, from my view point, and may vary depending on who else you talk to. Smiley Face!
I think it is most important that you know my grandfather as a religious person. He was thee, or one of thee, founders of the Canton, IL Church of Christ. At his visitation even people who attended the church only occassionally hugged me and told me how important it was that that church not close due to his death. I agreed and shared in the pain of their loss. Collections were taken in his name, and the $ used to improve the church, with much over due carpet and paint, etc. I think he would of been proud of that. It was not uncommon for such a small church to struggle financially to make ends meet, and it also was as equally common for my grandfather to reach into his own pocket to find $ to pay the heating or phone bill, or to give the underpaid preacher a small raise. I found it only fitting at his death that one of my grandfathers' students in church, became a preacher, and performed the tearful service. I now share the wonderful work of Steven Bonk as read the day of the service:
There is a pair of well-worn boots, that shoed my lifetime friend, they carried him down the isle at church, and into the horses'pen. Why do these boots appear so worn, what stories can they tell? They speak of that walk of a certain man and years when he was well. Yet this does not explain, you say, the depth of scuff and wear, that's only because you do not know his burdens and his cares. For the weight that caused wear, for the biggest part, was the loving concern of an oversized heart. Some will see those empty old boots and give no second thought, To the life and times of my noble friend and the lessons that he taught. But I'll reflect on those dusty, scarred boots and the tasks that they've seen done, Not for the flaws, the dirt or the scars, but for the race that they've run.
Steve put it best when he spoke of gramps "over-sized heart." My grandfather loved his family and friends very much, and I found it again, fitting, that he put my mom in charge of making sure everyone knew that he loved them, upon his death. She, like him, has a "gift of gab". Gramps provided many things to many people over the years. These things include, but were not limited to: friendship, companionship, leadership, commaraderie, love, laughs, fun, fellowship, and for material things: cars, homes, clothes, $, land, horses, etc. My gramps never expected anything in return for his generosity. He was giving, even in his final hours and days. I saw my gramps for the last time Thanksgiving Day 2003. He/we found out the day before Thanksgiving that he had liver cancer. Yet, again, I was amazed that he and my grandma were having us all over for dinner. Now, I "get it". I called my gramps from my aunts to see if we could come and visit early, as we would not be able to stay late into the night for game playing. The phone conversation, like any other phone conversation with him, was short and uncomfortable, but he said that it would be fine for us to come early. I took my camera, but could not bring myself to take any pictures when I knew in my heart of hearts it was his final hours/days. We visited and spoke of stories of old times. My gramps was on morphine by then, so he was in and out of the conversation, and took turns sitting up and laying down. I think he knew he was dying, as kept asking my husband and I what we wanted that was his? I think he offered us Bryer Horses, old pictures, trophies, etc., to which we both turned down. I wasn't ready to say good-bye and no material item could replace the life-time of memories that I held in my heart. At one point my gramps dissappeared from the room and it was a length of time before he returned. My husband and I spoke amongst ourselves and couldn't decide if he had gone to the bathroom, went to take a nap, or perhaps passed on, out of sight. My gramps returned with a closed hand, and as he had, many times prior, in his younger years, slipped a couple bills into my hand. We weren't able to stay for dinner, so it was his way of telling us to eat out, on him. I reluctantly accepted the 2 twenties, knowing full well it would be the final $ I ever received from him. I debated about keeping it at home as a token of his life, or putting it in the bank and saving it, thinking he would like that, but in the end it was used to purchase funeral clothes for my husband and sister. I knew gramps would of wanted me to do that. My gramps passed on 4 days later, Nov. 30th, 2003. My gramps family was of ut-most importance to him, and I found it fitting once again that he asked to speak with them in his final hours. It is my understanding that his sister and 1 brother, as well as, his wife, were with him at his home, when he passed on. I also understand that other family members went in 1 at a time to have final parting words before his death. I look back and realize now, what a day that must of been for my grandfather to be able to see, talk to, and say good-bye to so many of us that Thanksgiving Day and in the days following. My parting words to him, through tear filled eyes, were "I love you, gramps", to which he replied, "I love you too, Sugar". I feel blessed to have known and felt that from him my entire life. My gramps was big into games, with one of his favorites being Uno followed closely by Tripoly (an all nighter), and most recently, Sequence. I don't know if he really liked the games so much as he did, the getting together to play them, and the competition. We still up-hold the game playing tradition in our family, including, the above mentioned games. I think, we secretly as a family, wanted that tradition to carry on. My gramps was also famous for getting us turned on to Monical's Pizza. His generous spirit often took the family or entire church there after Sunday Church and for special occasions, like birthdays. My grandma has continued the tradition. Immediately following my grandfathers' visitation we visited a local Monicals to chow, and honor him. I thought of how proud he would be of us sticking together. My gramps never much liked the water, yet had a pool put in, so the family/grandkids would have something to do when we came over.
My gramps followed the tradition of his mother in his love for the color red. I, and many others in the family carry on that tradition. It wasn't un-common to see the color red at his or his mother's visitation or funeral. My gramps walked with a swift step and took his boots off with an old cricket boot jack. Each time I am out and about and someone yells at me to, "slow down, you're walking too fast", I blame it on my gramps, and trying to keep up with him at the horse shows. My gramps was all about fairness and many times opened his home for a grandchild to stay at or move in. He also took turns allowing many of us to show miniature horses for him. He was cautious in not letting us show the stallions, as thought they might "hurt us." My gramps had lots of prize horses over the years including: Delight; Prince; Queeny; Thumbalina; Top Cat; my grandma's horse, Charm, and the one and only, Boone's Little Buckeroo. My gramps love for his horses was un-ser-mountable. I knew he was sick when he was no longer going outside to see them. It was only fitting that he passed away at home, surrounded on 3 sides, by fences full of horses. Over the years my gramps raised many animals including: peacocks, japanese deer, 1 wild deer, Flag, puppies, miniature goats, miniature donkeys, chickens, etc., but none held a candle to his love for his miniature horse collection. When you live in a small town you go to field trips at my grandpa's farm.
My senior year, classmates were still talking of the fun of visiting my gramps farm in kindergarten, watching 1 horse have a baby, washing our hands outside in an old wash tub, and eating Rice Krispie Treats made by my grandma. My gramps had many wonderful, "perfect" horses born on his farm, but it is also important that you know that while trying to perfect the miniature breed, he also had loses and some horses that were not as "perfect". One of these such dwarf horses was called, "Little Guy". Most people would of probably sold this horse off or given it away, but not my gramps. Little Guy had the run of the farm, literally. He could fit under the fences, and rather than add more boards, he soon became the farm "dog". Visitors took to Little Guy like none other, esp. kids and others who could relate to his handi-caps. My gramps had offers to sell Little Guy, but he didn't want him to end up a circus show, so he kept him on the original farm until Little Guy passed away many years later. That's the kind of man my gramps was. At his service the preacher ended with a final quote of, "It did not matter if you were a "Buckeroo" or just a "Little Guy", he had time for you. And I think all who knew of the story, including me, lost it. When I was in junior high we were asked to interview someone we admired. I chose my grandpa. I walked next door with my pad, paper, and armed with my mom's tape recorder and prepared for what was going to be the best interview ever. I prepared lots of good questions and hung on every word my gramps had to say. I just knew it was going to be good. I ran across that tape when cleaning my bedroom at my parents and though it's full of static and muffled, it is perhaps the best piece of his history I own. Our interview occured on Sept. 11th and without the tape in front of me, I am uncertain of the year. I find it, again fitting, that after 9/11 when the tradgedy of the Twin Towers occured, that years earlier, without warning of the future, history would be made in a good way. It wasn't what my gramps had to say that day, 'cause boy, did I try, but rather what he didn't say, and the sound of his voice, that now, only echoes in my mind. You see, my gramps wouldn't speak of his military days where most didn't make it back alive, he wouldn't speak of difficult times where he lost ones he loved to illness, he wouldn't speak of troubled times when it was hard to make ends meet, he wouldn't speak of tearful times when he was dissappointed by family and friends, and he wouldn't speak of times of despair when his own health was at risk. That just wasn't the type of man that he was. I believe my gramps would tell you that he lived a full life. That was evident by the people and lives that he touched at his visitation, and again at his funeral. Neighbors who had never stepped foot in a church came, people he hadn't seen in years sent flowers, my step-cousin who was stationed in Iraq sent a heart-felt and tearful note to be shared, in which he stated about how he hoped he could be 1/2 the man my gramps had been to him to his own kids, and people came from many towns, and states including IL, IN, TX, etc. It was quite a nice tribute, to such a man, who meant so much to us all. It was such a nice healing, to see so many, whom meant so much to him. The funeral procession stretched for miles among windy, country, roads to the cemetary. We passed the farm on the way and people literally stopped in front of the house to pay tribute. It brought joy to my heart and tears to my eyes to witness such a wonderful act of kindness. Horses, that in earlier days had run free in the front pastures, were pinned up, and the farm had a sense of silence, and sadness all in one. It was again, only fitting that the grandchildren who meant so much to my gramps, were chosen to be his paul-bearers and each arrived, as he would of liked, in their own style, ranging from jeans to suit.
My gramps had some great friends over the years in his horse business and in his life. I am thankful to them for that. I give my ut-most thanks now, to the Eberth family for their purchase of my grandpa's prize horse, Boone's Little Buckeroo. It is literally because of them that my grandpa's life was extended. He could not of afforded his $100,000 heart operation without the sale of this horse. I can not imagine how different all of our lives would be without the extra years we were given with this man. I think, that the Lord knew, we weren't ready to "let go" quite yet. Thank you from the bottom of a very grateful heart for giving my family and I, the years, the memories, and the chance to better say good bye. You will never know how special you are to all of us.
I am honored, that I was able to visit your farm, with my gramps, and see, and pet Buckeroo. I secretly always dreamed of the day, my gramps would purchase him back, and they would grow old, and pass away on the farm, together.
I know, that while our loss of gramps is difficult, that his loss of Buckeroo, 1st, would have been much more difficult.
It has always been my dream to own, and show miniatures, and I think that gramps would be ok, if I could come and purchase my 1st one from you. I plan to save up. I think when he asked me to up-hold his legacy, he meant his name and his business? I will do my best, and I thank you for doing the same.
I struggled for almost a full year with missing my gramps daily, and each time an older gentleman would pass me and especially smile, my eyes would feel with tears, remembering that infectious smile of gramps. My Lord and my husband are to credit for my strength to get through. I know that others, such as my cousin, have not yet, accepted his death. She said it best, when she said, she figures one day she will just walk into his house, and he will get up from the table, and say, "hello, sugar". I had to smile. I ask for your prayers for those who are having difficulty dealing with, or who have yet to experience the pain, of such an immense lose.
I am a firm believer that all things happen for a reason. We don't always understand the reason behind everything, or the timing, but I figure it isn't for us to understand, or else we would be in charge.
I had an idea last year, to make a memory garden at the house, in the shape of a horseshoe, to honor my gramps, and to allow others to donate plants, and to come and reflect. My gramps just loved roses and got married to his second wife in front of the rose garden at his old home. I still have the idea, and some have donated plants for the project already, but my landscapers in the family are quite busy. When it is complete, I invite all who would like to, to come and see it, and reflect as well.
Sticking to my all things happen for a reason theory, we had our trees trimmed this spring, one of which is a large cottonwood out back. It is quite messy and my husband and I have talked many times about taking it out. Our reasoning for not doing so, is that it provides shade to the entire backyard, and to our family and friends who attend our yearly 4th of July bash. If you would of told me 2 years ago that my gramps would no longer be attending, I wouldn't of believed you. I look out my kitchen door, window everyday and am reminded of the Lord's work, for, in the newly, trimmed, tree trunk, the healing has begun, and the shape it is taking on, is none other than, a HORSESHOE! I think the tree will be staying.
I once shared the story of my gramps, and Buckeroo with some college administration, to which they replied, "it sounds like something out of the movies". They thought the story should be told, and I agree. If anyone out there knows of anyone in Hollywood or anywhere else that would be interested, I think the legacy could live on. We are so in tune now days with the bad and evil in the world, that I think it would be nice to tell the story of the man who was a Chritian, Leader, Husband, Father, Grandfather, Great-Grandfather, Military Man, but mostly a friend to everyone who knew him. We know that he is waiting for each of us in a place where there is no crying, no pain, no worries, no stress, and no strife. Let us each live a Christian Life too, modeled after him, so that we too, can experience that life and legacy that the Lord has in place for us. I think that the Lord calls the angels home on Sunday, as he did, in the case of my gramps.
God Bless you all,
Sincerely, Angela
- Angela Bacon
