I loved my Aunt Jane. She was a great person with a great sense of humor. She liked a good laugh and often indulged. At the same time, she was a realist and didn’t mind sharing her opinions and impressions. That sort of honesty is becoming a rarer commodity today, it seems to me. Her Father, Alfred Rosenberger, came to America a poor immigrant from Krumbach, Germany in the early 1920’s. A cabinet maker by trade, he worked hard, (to a fault almost) learned English, became an American Citizen, and later built his own house, which still stands proudly today on West Johnson Street in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin. I see it often driving by, and feel a grandson’s pride. Alfred and my Grandmother Henrietta raised four children, Arthur, Al, and twins Jane and Jean. My Mother Jean Knickel is the last of the surviving Rosenberger siblings of that union. Jane will be sadly missed and fondly remembered by her entire family and relatives.

I will write now what I spoke at my mom’s Memorial.
When I think of my beautiful mother, I vividly remember at the age of 4 or 5 laying on her chest for a nap. She had a pale blue sleeveless shell on & Harry Belafonte was playing softly out of that big hi fi we had. But, what I heard loudly was the beating of her big heart & how safe she always made me feel.
There is nothing I can say that will bring her back, all her bright futures spread before us. but today I will stand here all the same with you, my heart broken open with yours & remember what we have lost.

Thank you cousin Marky!
There’s information that you put on there that gave me insight into her background.
Love you, Terrie