Larson Weishaar Funeral Home
Larson Weishaar Funeral Home
1408 11th Avenue
Manson, IA 50563
Phone: (712) 469-3315
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Local Obituaries and Funeral Notice News
Thu, Mar 22, 2012
Tide and Green Grass)” was the band’s first compilation album, not “Hot Rocks 1964-1971.”
An obituary on Sunday about the lawyer Maxwell S. Keith, who defended two members of the so-called Manson family in their murder trials, misstated the given name of another member. She is Patricia Krenwinkel, not Pamela.
An obituary on Saturday about the veteran umpire Harry Wendelstedt referred incorrectly to his arrival in the National League. Though he did arrive in 1966, he did not do so “when the National League staff was supervised by Cal Hubbard.” (Mr. Hubbard was the American League’s umpiring supervisor from 1953 to 1969, not the National League’s.)
An obituary on Saturday about Peter Bergman, a founding member of the comedy troupe Firesign Theater, misspelled the name of a video game of which he created a parody. It is Myst, not Mist. And a subheading with the obituary misstated the number of members in Firesign Theater. As the obituary correctly noted, Mr. Bergman created the group with three friends, not with four.
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Tue, Mar 6, 2012
You were quite the headbanger when you started getting enamored with music in your youth?
In my teens, I was one of those kids who was interested in music for the shock value. Not so much the Marilyn Manson and whatever else was popular among...
Thu, Oct 27, 2011
California golden boy — in the words of the television impresario and songwriter Steve Allen, someone who “started out as James Dean and ended up as Charles Manson.” He was gorgeous, he seemed touched by an odd light, and he did not, even then, look altogether human — but in a manner that was not repulsive but irresistibly alluring.
His legend — the way in which, with the clarity and ease of his tone as a trumpeter, and the preternatural calm, quiet, and reflectiveness of his singing, the way in which he could, “somehow,” as Gavin quotes the Italian pianist Enrico Pieranunzi, “express the question mark of life in so few notes,” the way in which Baker was a cult in and of himself — was as the years went on not just a Johnny Thunders death watch, a spectacle of self-destruction, the face of the monster slowly grinding down the memory of the angel. Rather it was, through all the years of working less as a musician than as his own pimp (“One uninspired night at the Subway Club in Cologne yielded three albums”), of a self-degradation so extreme it had to be, in its way, its own reward (“Waking from a nod … he found his face crawling with cockroaches …”), the chance that the pure talent, as a thing in itself, might still be there, might still emerge on any night, in any song, and then, again, vanish, humiliating the man who could not find his voice at will or even refused to, and mocking the memories of those who could not admit that they had not heard what they thought they heard.
Behind its own face, the legend was that of the solitary betraying his own talent, his own gift, and that solitary betrayal raising the specter of the smaller but no less real betrayals of anyone in any audience, one man standing for, and exposing, the self-betrayal of everyone else. “All this criticism,” Gavin writes of Baker’s crash in the then all-important jazz polls in 1959 — after a phony cure at the federal facility at Lexington, in 1950s jazz lore almost as storied a place as any nightclub in Manhattan, after four months at Rikers,
implied Baker had let everyone down, dragging an American dream through the mud. ‘Chet had the world at his feet in the fifties,’ said John Burr, one of his later bassists. ‘He consciously turned his back on it, and used drugs as a means of doing it. That’s what he said about it.’ Baker made no apologies. ‘All the attempts to get him off heroin — he didn’t want to get off heroin,’ said Gerry Mulligan. ‘That, of course, is heresy in the modern world. You’re supposed to be going, “Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa, oh God, help me.” Chet didn’t give a damn.’
In Gavin’s hands this is a long, long story of infinite shadings, where every incident that is formally the same as every other nevertheless has its own color, tone, and sound. He never attempts to ingratiate himself into the story, to wrap himself in its putative hipness when Baker seemed the epitome of cool; he never preens in knowingness, or feigns intimacy with Baker when Baker is the epitome of everything desperate and sordid. He places hip words or drug language in quotes or follows them with explanatory parentheses (“His arms and legs were full of bloodied ‘tracks’”), at once establishing his own distance from the story and refusing to allow the reader any false empathy or easy identification — to strip the reader of his or her own putative hipness, the hipness of anyone cool enough to want to read a 400-page biography of Chet Baker.
Gavin seems to hold all of Baker’s music, piece by piece, song by song, phrase by phrase, every show, every recording, in his head, all at once. He doesn’t give th...
Mon, Oct 17, 2011
Don’t worry, honey, stars aren’t being murdered, only featured players,” she is supposed to have told one client who was panicked by the murder of Sharon Tate by followers of Charles Manson.
In the 1973 film “The Last of Sheila,” one of her clients, Dyan Cannon, played a brassy Hollywood agent widely believed to be based on Ms. Mengers.
Like other women in her Hollywood generation, Ms. Mengers started on a bottom-most rung. She joined the M.C.A. talent agency as a receptionist in 1955, then worked her way up to a secretary’s position at the rival William Morris Agency. At a smaller, independent agency, she became a talent agent, with Julie Harris among her early clients.
But the seat of her power was Creative Management Associates, a star-heavy boutique that was run by Mr. Fields. Ms. Mengers joined C.M.A. in the years before a 1975 merger that formed International Creative Management, a giant firm that was known nonetheless for the freewheeling approach of individualists like Ms. Mengers.
As the more buttoned-down, corporate approach of the Creative Artists Agency transformed Hollywood in the 1980s, Ms. Mengers lost some cachet and occasionally clients. Ms. Streisand, who became a client of C.A.A., left her because, Ms. Mengers would later tell The Los Angeles Times, she had resisted “Yentl,” a 1983 film that received five Oscar nominations but did not set the box office on fire.
David Geffen, the record executive and a co-founder of DreamWorks, said of Ms. Mengers in a telephone interview on Sunday, “She walked away because she thought Hollywood was changing.” The loss of Ms. Streisand, he added, was a blow from which she never quite recovered professionally.
After retiring from I.C.M. in 1986, Ms. Mengers briefly returned to agency life in 1988 as the head of a weakened movie department at William Morr... (New York Times)
Sun, Sep 18, 2011
Also surviving is a brother, Francis (Rita) Schulte; sisters-in-law, Kathleen Schulte and Jean (Joe) Dougherty; and brother-in-law, Hubie Hermanson. She was preceded in death by her parents; her husbands, Thomas and Joseph; a grandson, Jeff Berns; a great-granddaughter, Charlie Belle Elmer; a son-in-law, Arlyn Pladsen; a sister, Theresa Schulte; and brothers, Clarence, Vincent, Joseph, Hank, Lawrence, Bernard and Mathew Schulte. They will welcome her with open arms.
The family would like to thank the staff at Veteran's Memorial Hospital, Waukon, for the loving care they gave their mother, especially Dr. Perkins and Dr. Schwartz.
Funeral services will be Monday, Sept. 19, at 11 a.m. at St. Patrick's Catholic Church, Waukon, Iowa, with burial at St. Mary's Catholic Church Hanover Cemetery.
Friends may call Sunday (today), Sept. 18, from 3 to 7 p.m. at Hanson's Funeral Home, Waukon, Iowa, and one hour prior to service at the church.
(La Crosse Tribune)
Thu, Sep 15, 2011
Saturday.Stanley Duane Peterson, 79, of Rushford, died Wednesday, Sept. 14, 2011, at the Good Shepherd Lutheran Home in Rushford.He was born Sept. 14, 1932, in Bismarck, N.D., to Archie and Ollie (Hermanson) Peterson. On Sept. 15, 1962, he married Janet Hildestad at the Whalan Lutheran Church in Whalan, they were later divorced. Stanley was a mechanic at Peterson Motors for 50+ years.He enjoyed spending time with grandchildren and great-grandchildren.Stanley is survived by two sons, Duane Peterson of Lanesboro and Darin Peterson of Rushford; one daughter, Darcy (Paul) Peterson of Lanesboro; 10 grandchildren; three great-grandchildren; his ex-wife, Janet; one brother Harvey (Marge) Peterson of Wykoff; and two n... (Post Bulletin)