Ramona: Community says farewell to Jip Brunner
By JESSICA GILBERT
Ramona correspondent
(785) 965-2621
There's a photograph of Jim Brunner sitting beside me as I write this week's column. Jim's wearing a green and blue flannel shirt, with a down vest, a black railroad cap on his head, the large, square-framed glasses shadow his mischievous eyes, and his sly smile only is interrupted by the cigarette dangling precariously from the side of his lips. That's how I'll always remember Jim Brunner, who died on Friday the 13th in his home here in Ramona.
Jim lived on Main Street and was, and always will be to me, a part of main-street Ramona. I never knew he had the nickname "Jip" until two days after he died and his sister, Karen, told me she'd always called him by that name. Jim knew the history; he was part of the history — especially with all the pranks he pulled as a kid. "But in the 20 years we knew him, getting him to tell any of those stories was like squeezing blood out of a turnip," says my sister, Pat.
Sometimes when we were out delivering the town newsletter — when the weather was warmer and before his health kept him homebound — Jim would get in his "buggy" and chauffeur us around town. There was something about the spring air swirling around our faces as we buzzed up and down Ramona's streets that just seem to coax the stories to the surface.
As we rolled by the high school he told about his teenage mischief. "We'd sit up there in study hall," said Jim, pointing to the second story windows, "and some of us tossed our books out the window and into a fish pond below."
When fall leaves were dropping and we were delivering the third quarter newsletter, he divulged how he and several friends went out to his cousin's farm — Lauren Brunner — on Halloween when most everybody was at the community party at the high school. Jim and his friends moved a sow and piglets to the Brunners' front porch. Before Lauren and Orvell could get into their house that night they had to first move the loading shoot away from the front porch, and then remove the hay bales that kept the sow and her offspring confined there.
Another cousin of Jim's — Jack Anderson — once told the story of the winter their grandpa, G.H. Brunner got his first television set. A snowstorm was coming and Jack told Grandpa Brunner he should get a TV to occupy the time. (Jack owned the hardware store that was in the building that now is our post office in Ramona).
Grandpa Brunner replied, "Vaht voud da kids tink if I spent my money dat vay?" And Jack reminded him that his money was, after all, his own money. Immediately Grandpa replied, "Aach den, brings me von up."
Jim took up the story from there and says that Grandpa was worried those people he could see on the TV could also see him. So in the morning, he wouldn't turn on the TV until they were both dressed!
When we had no newsletters to deliver, Jim still would find reasons to be out in good weather. "Let's go looking for asparagus," he'd say, and we'd take off with one of us in the front seat of his buggy and one in back, equipped with knives and Jim's keen eye for spotting sprouting asparagus. He'd chide me no end, because I liked to eat asparagus raw and by the time we'd reach home, I often had consumed my harvest!
As I looked at the faces of Jim's family and friends gathered at Lewis Cemetery this past Wednesday for Jim's memorial service, I knew that each and every one could tell a "Jim story." What fun it would have been to know them all! Jim had many friends who often came to sit and chat. Since we've lived here I often saw David Staatz, (Jim affectionately called him Davy), Don Beisel, Tooltime Tim, Paul Jones, and Betty Ohm. They each hold stories of a man that wasn't quick to divulge!
The Rev. Eugene Hicks, Jim's cousin, officiated at the memorial service and told the story of Jim's beginning.
"Jim was born Jan. 27, 1937, and upon his birth, his mother, Hannah, sent Neva and Omar over to Uncle Dan Brunner's to tell them baby Jim had arrived," said Hicks. "Uncle Dan was surprised — they never knew Hannah was even expecting."
While Neva waited at Uncle Dan's, Omar continued on with the lumber wagon and horses to Ramona, where he procured a load of coal. "They normally burned wood for heating, but they wanted the house as warm as possible for the new baby," said Hicks.
The children attended school at Rosebank Country School, and if you were six by the time school began in January, you could start school. Jim turned six near the end of the month, but they allowed him to attend school with Neva and Omar. After a few weeks, little Jim was given a note to carry home to his parents.
"He was proud to hand the note to his mother because he thought it was a good report," said Hicks. But the note actually told Jim's parents he wasn't old enough for the rigors of school.
Jim's sisters, Neva, Karen, and Joan were Jim's guardian angels, always in touch whether visiting or by phone. All of Jim's living siblings — Neva, Karen, Joan, Omar — were at the memorial service, except for his older sister, Neva, who is wintering in Texas, and still recuperating from a recent knee surgery. Jim's aunt, Johanna Brunner Kaiser, who turned 104 in December also was present — she is the last of 13 children of G.H. Brunner. Numerous nieces, nephews, and cousins were among the large crowd gathered in Lewis Cemetery.
Following the Rev. Hicks' remarks, Lisa Hanschu sang a soulful rendition of "Amazing Grace" and Jim's two-year old granddaughter, Jenna, started to sing along. Her mother Traci tried to subdue her but Jenna insisted on adding her voice. "I heard the little voice and knew exactly who it was," said Jim's sister, Karen. "It was just precious."
In the long silence that hung in the air as the Fort Riley honor guard folded the flag, I pondered the legacy we each leave in our passing. Eventually, we all will take our turn, following Jim back into the earth. As I looked at the small box holding Jim's remains, it seemed so small to be holding a man that was one of Ramona's biggest "characters." But then it seemed fitting — Jim returned to the size he was when he entered this world as a baby.
As the soldier handed Jim's oldest son, Jayme, the American flag, it was the signal that now Jayme carries the Brunner name on Main Street, Ramona. Jayme and his two children, Solomon (named after his great grandpa) and Kaitlin, live on the same property as Jayme's great-grandfather, G.H. Brunner. Jayme's already carrying on his father's tradition of caring about Ramona — he's the youngest member of Ramona's City Council.
Jim's other son, Joey, married his wife, Traci, in the Ramona park several years ago, and while they live with their three children in Pilsen, Joey always will be a "Ramona boy."
Jim's memorial service had solemn moments (watching the soldiers' salute), moments that made us smile (when we heard the stories), and moments (like when Taps was sounded) that brought tears to our eyes. But if you knew Jim, there just had to be something that made you laugh — because Jim had a need to "stir things up," and that humor was provided by, of course, a dog, because dogs are Ramona's trademark.
We'd never seen the dog before, and believe me, my sister and I have seen all the dogs of Ramona if they've been loose because the mayor and clerk are the ones called when somebody has a stray dog on their property! But this dog wasn't recognized by anybody in the crowd when he suddenly appeared and made his way up to Jim's graveside.
He wandered around the green tent where the family was seated, investigating everything in his path. Before anyone could divert him he was coming toward some of us who were standing on the front row outside the tent. I thought perhaps one of us could urge him away from the crowd, but before I could do a thing, the mutt had lifted his leg and proceeded to relieve himself on a family gravestone, hitting the back of the leg of the man standing in front of me.
Yep, it was unusual, it was funny, and after being embarrassed about one of Ramona's own dogs at such a solemn occasion, we chuckled. "Jim would have gotten a big laugh out of that!" said someone standing near me.
I figure it was a dog just getting the last word for one of Jim's childhood pranks when he tied the tail of a dog to an electric fence charger!
And that's the news from Ramona where a traffic jam is two parked cars, and a dog appearing from who knows where!
Come visit Ramona this weekend — there's a soup supper featuring butterball-noodle soup and beef stew, followed by a pitch tournament. The activities begin at 5 p.m. Sunday at the senior center. The tournament at 6 p.m. will feature cash prizes for highest and lowest points. Donations accepted for the supper with proceeds going to construct bathrooms in Ramona park.
