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Funeraria del Angel Greer-Wilson Chapel

5921 West Thomas Rd, Phoenix, AZ

OBITUARY

Adele L. Zumwalt

February 15, 1931February 3, 2020

Adele L. Zumwalt was born on February 15, 1931 and passed away on February 3, 2020.

Services

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Memories

Adele L. Zumwalt

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Todd Taylor

February 14, 2020

Dear family,

I believe and feel that Aunt Adele is at peace. Rightly so, because in life she emanated peace . . . and warmth, thoughtfulness, and love. Her thoughtfulness reached West Africa ... while I was serving in the Peace Corps many years ago, she sent me care packages packed with treats, dried fruit, and love. I have many other fond memories, for example, as a boy growing up in Pittsburgh, receiving the Arizona Highways publication -- extolling the beauty of Sedona. Her sweet propaganda worked, as I finally took my family west a few years ago to visit her beloved Arizona. We had a wonderful time visiting her and catching up with family that we do not see often enough. I am truly thankful for having such a wonderful aunt -- your mother, your grand mother, your sister, your aunt, your friend . . . .

With Love,
Todd Taylor (Ana and Ian)

steve christ

February 13, 2020

(continued from previous memory)
However, she didn't scold me, she just went immediately into nurse mode, cleaned & dressed the wound. Then, much to my chagrin, she went to the fridge and brought out a bottle of penicillin. Then, much to my horror, she produced a crate with "HARPOON" stamped on it, form which she pulled the most fearsome looking hypodermic I could have imagined. It was the size of a caulking gun, with a needle that was more like a dagger than a needle. With barbed hooks on it. With a small power-driven auger on the tip for boring thru flesh, bone, and out the other side...of elephant-sized horses. There is here a bit of a lapse in my memory, but when I came to a few days later the wound was well on its way to being completely healed. But even today, over 6 decades later, my arm is still sore from that shot of penicillin.
These are only a few of the memories I have of that 1957 adventure, the outstanding ones because they...well...stand out. They are firmly embedded in the bedrock of my youth. They are buried treasure, but not so deeply buried that I can't retrieve them occasionally and re-live them again. Thanks Aunt Mom for giving me this this treasure, and for all of the life-long treasure you have added to it.
I can't say "Rest in Peace, Goodbye". Only "Rest for a while, and I'll see you later".
To David, Jodi, and Uncle Bugs: Though we are separated by distance, my heart, soul, and prayers will be with you in Beaver, PA this weekend.

steve christ

February 13, 2020

Where to begin? Where to...I know this. Begin at the beginning.
1957. I was off to to spend the summer with my Aunt Adele & Uncle Johnny, cousins David & Jodi, in rural Frenchton, WVA.
Very rural; like, on the border between rural and middle-of-nowhere; a flatland city kid about to discover that there really was life outside Toledo.
I remember: riding a neighborly farmer's plowhorse- a very large horse- the biggest horse I had ever seen, outside of a Budweiser Clydesdale commercial. I felt a taste of what it might be like to ride an elephant. Boy was that cool. Way cool!
I remember: A chicken dinner that started with a chicken that still was still wearing its feathers and cheerfully clucking away with its fellow future-entrees, discussing various chicken topics of the day, like the do's and don'ts of proper egg-laying. Well, when a hatchet and chopping block came into the picture, that chicken was showing obvious signs of, at least, extreme displeasure with the way that the event was progressing. I wonder if it was consoled in some small way by knowing that it was soon to become quite tasty. I can.t say that was cool, but it certainly was educational. I now know where real chickens come from, and it ain't the grocery store. And when I see "country fried chicken" on a menu, I see it with an entirely different understanding of the term.
I remember: A nasty puncture wound in my arm from a rusty nail in the clothesline post I had tried to climb. I tried to hide it from Aunt Adele because I knew I had done something wrong. I didn't know exactly what it was that I had done wrong, only that, whatever it was, I probably shouldn't have done it. Well, everyone knows that you can't hide an injury from a nurse, at least not for long. And she certainly wasn't going to buy any story about an evil rusty nail, camoflaged by a dab of paint, lying in wait, ready to ambush the first dumb city kid to come too close.
(continued in next memory)

Jennifer Morran

February 8, 2020

Thank you Aunt Adele for introducing me to the love of researching our family roots. I pray you find peace and comfort amongst those waiting to embrace you once again.

Jennifer Morran (Christ)

Gregory Christ

February 6, 2020

Dear Jodie, David and families ...

I am terribly saddened to hear of Aunt Adele's passing. She was a remarkable women who lives large in my memory, and I will always be indebted to her for the lessons of kindness and compassion, family and faith that she passed along to me. I have such fond remembrances of my visits to Pittsburg thanks to Aunt Adele, Uncle Elton, Grandma and Grandpa Taylor, and of course, all my cousins, and I am eternally grateful for the graciousness and goodwill that Aunt Adele showed to John and his family when they shared in our Taylor Family Reunion a decade ago. Our thoughts, prayers and condolences extend all the way to Arizona and Pennsylvania this week -- may Aunt Adele rest in peace and enjoy the eternal grace she so richly deserves for a life will lived in service to her family and nursing / education career.

With all our love,
Greg Christ & John Irwin
Sanford, Florida