Iva Jean Toste

2019. She had a good, long life filled with love, family, and accomplishments. Up until her

illness, Iva Jean was relatively active, living independently at home, and happy. Even in her

mid-80s, she was still able to drive herself, each Friday, to the beauty shop in Kerman to get her

hair done. Her passing has left a large, empty place in the hearts of her family and friends.

Iva Jean was born on February 22, 1933, in the Floyd District a few miles east of Kerman,

California. Her parents, Jacob and Mollie Heintz, were Germans from the Volga River Region

of Russia. They immigrated to the United States in 1912 and settled in the Kerman area in 1913,

where they farmed raisins and cotton. She was the youngest of nine siblings, all of whom

preceded her in death. As a young girl growing up during the 1930s and 40s, she learned the

value of frugality and hard work. The farming community surrounding Kerman was a diverse

mix of recent immigrant families who came to this country seeking a better life. Many of her

neighbors were Germans, Portuguese, Italians, and Swedes. Most were humble farmers. Her

childhood home was on Floyd Avenue just north of Jensen. The barn that her father built is still

there and standing strong after all these decades. Her childhood best friend was a young girl

from an Italian family named Lena Ciapessoni, who lived an eighth of a mile down the street. In

an interesting twist of fate, they later became sisters-in-law. In 1942 she lost her brother, Jack

Heintz, a US Navy seaman when his ship was sunk. This loss weighed heavily on her family. Iva

Jean attended Floyd School and later, Kerman High School but did not graduate.

Iva Jean met the love of her life, Frank M. Toste Sr., in 1948. He was a World War II veteran

and the son of Azorean Portuguese immigrants who lived in the Kerman area. They married in

1949. Frank and Iva Jean enjoyed telling the story about the very first time he saw her. When

Frank was a young boy, he attended Floyd School where Iva Jean’s mother worked. When Mrs.

Heintz brought her newborn baby to school, the class gathered round to see it. Little did Frank

know, but 16 years later he would marry that baby. Frank and Iva Jean spent 65 years together

before she lost him in 2012. He was able to reach the age of 91, much in part due to the love and

care she provided over their many long years together. They had three sons, Frank Jr. and Ron in

the early 1950s and Scott in 1965.

“Behind every great man there's a great woman,” was absolutely true of the marriage and

partnership between Frank and Iva Jean. In the first six years of their marriage, Frank worked as

a herdsman for the Fred Rau Dairy in the Raisin City area and for a short time managed a dairy in

Southern California. In 1956 Frank and Iva Jean went into the dairy business for themselves in

the Easton area, at first renting a dairy barn and later building a dairy facility at Marks &

Manning Avenues. Frank milked the cows, and Iva Jean helped feed them while also taking care

of their two young sons. Times were difficult back then, but the two of them worked hard and

continuously reinvested in their business. Iva Jean took on the job of doing the business’s

bookkeeping which she excelled at because of her exquisite attention to detail. The two of them

were a team, supporting and relying on each other. He was the drive and vision, while she was

the counterbalance to his ambition, keeping him grounded. Together they were able to build a

large and successful dairy and farming operation. In 1972 they moved that operation to its

present location on Lincoln Avenue south of Kerman. It was there that they built their dream

home. Iva Jean designed it and worked closely with the architect and contractor to make it as

ideal as possible. It became the central hub of their business and family life. She was able to live

in the home she loved so much for 47 years. She would often tell the story of how her home was

only four and a half miles from the place she was born – a fact she was rather proud of because it

reflected her deep sense of community and roots.

Iva Jean was a true lady in the classic sense who exhibited dignity, grace, and integrity. She had

a high standard for herself and taught her three sons to be respectful, hard-working individuals,

which they, in turn, passed on to their children. Her family meant everything to her. She

cherished all of her relatives – her brothers and sisters, her nephews and nieces, were all very

significant to her. But above all else, she was a great mom – a kind and loving mother – who

will be forever in the hearts of her children and grandchildren.

Iva Jean Toste was the last of her generation in more ways than one. She is survived by her sons,

Frank Toste Jr and wife Becky, Ron Toste and wife Robin, Scott Toste and wife Christina; her

grandsons Frank Toste III and wife Maria, Jason Toste and wife Cheryl, Jacob Toste and Andrew

Toste; granddaughters Marlene Borges and husband Kenny, Anneka Anderson and husband

Jimmie, Roni Aust and husband Dustin; six great-grandsons and four great-granddaughters, and

many nieces and nephews.

A Graveside Service will be held at Fresno Memorial Gardens on October 25, 2019, at 11 AM.

Remembrances may be sent to the charity of your choice.

In the seven years after the death of her husband Frank, she had many conversations with her

youngest son, Scott, about life. She often clipped articles from the newspaper and shared them

with him. In one such clipping, she shared the following poem:

Death is nothing at all.

It does not count.

I have only slipped away into the next room.

Nothing has happened.

Everything remains exactly as it was.

I am I, and you are you,

and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.

Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.

Call me by the old familiar name.

Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.

Put no difference into your tone.

Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.

Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.

Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.

Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.

Life means all that it ever meant.

It is the same as it ever was.

There is absolute and unbroken continuity.

What is this death but a negligible accident?

Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you, for an interval,

somewhere very near,

just round the corner.

All is well.

Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.

One brief moment and all will be as it was before.

How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!