Celebration of Ned's Life: 12:00 noon on Saturday February 28, First United Methodist Church at 516 Church Street in Evanston. Followed by a party at Prairie Moon Restaurant, 1502 Sherman.
About Ned: His Life Story His Life in Photos His Obituary
Memorial Gifts: The family invites memorial gifts to Antioch College or Y.O.U.
Here are some ways that Ned's children suggest you might honor his memory:
Eat a grapefruit. A white grapefruit, which you can find at a market out in Skokie; why would anybody eat pink grapefruit?
Go to the opera. Preferably Wagner's Ring Cycle -- all 15 hours of it.
Watch the Chicago Bears. Don't talk during the game, and mute the commercials.
Enjoy daily morning "quiet time" with a cup of Assam Golden Tip and the sports section.
Read Doonesbury. And if you haven't been reading it since the first strip in 1971, why the hell not?
Eat Dixie Kitchen's whole baby catfish with grits and sweet potatoes.
Walk along the lakefront.
Go fishing. Go camping. Take your friends and family fishing and camping.
Go see the world, by bus, and don't forget to eat the street vendor food.
Listen to Benny Goodman and The Weavers.
When puttering about the house doing chores and projects, sing a tuneless song whose only lyrics are "la di da." Whistling is an acceptable alternative.
Let your kids take whomever they want to the prom.
Embrace your in-laws.
Play Oh Hell. Always bid zero, excepting the ace of trump. Express astonishment and indignation when you take a trick with a three.
Grill Paulina Market Bratwurst and eat warm pecan pie with vanilla ice cream.
Compost. Grow rhubarb and strawberries. Make jam.
Put your salad on its own plate, and always top it with raw onions.
Shovel your neighbor's snow. Throw a block party. Build a treehouse and invite the neighborhood.
Never build a tall fence in your backyard that would keep you from chatting with your neighbors.
Vote!
Serve on the city council. Join a board. Or a task force. Or a commission. Or a committee.
Drink domestic microbrew beer and eat popcorn with old friends. Don't ever even SAY the word "Budweiser."
Build a toboggan run, and fly down the hill with abandon.
Never tell a lie. Not even a little one. Not ever.
Teach your kids your old college drinking songs, the more irreverent, the better.
Never play favorites with your kids.
Cherish your spouse. Love your dad.
Tributes
Leave a tributeI will forever treasure his support and encouragement of any crazy idea I ever had. To this day that serves as a cornerstone of my ability to go and try nearly anything.
Thank you Dad.
My sincere condolences to all of his family and friends.
ll try to follow Ned's advice that you shared, although I've already failed miserably on some accounts...
We are sure that Ned and Albe are holding hands in heaven.
Pat and Peter Horne
2/16/15
I’ve been trying to put into words what Ned has meant to me and all the rest of us Baum’s. Not father or uncle or grandfather. What I do know is that every single one of us Baum’s loved Ned and he was like a fairy God mother/father to our whole family. Growing up Ned was just—well—Ned. He was a nice guy who never quite finished the home improvement projects at his own house. But what a life Ned and Albe had together and what a wonderful bunch of kids they’ve raised! And what a capacity to love people and enjoy life and make important community contributions. Ned was so important to our family after Stan died. I think each of us Baum’s felt as though we had a special connection with Ned. And so did his thousands other friends. I’ve known for a long time about Ned’s backpacking, world travels, community service, and tobogganing travails. I know that he started the backpacking club at the high school. I remember him visiting me at college. I remember the whole Lauterbach family coming to our wedding and then staying an extra couple of days (longer than anyone else) before taking off on a family backpacking trip. It’s only recently I’ve learned about his love of opera. I think he told me he hitch hiked to his first opera from Antioch and then hitch hiked back late at night. I never really knew that he loved jazz until he showed Lynne and I his autograph from Louis Armstrong. The places in the world to which Ned and Albe traveled on their own into their 70’s (and possibly 80’s) using only the Lonely Planet books and their basic trust in people were simply incredible! Ned lived almost a century. What a wonderful life well lived.
Ned was a man of principles. One of Evanston's issues in the 1960s was integration. There were two YMCAs and the one near downtown did not admit African Americans, even after the YMCA in the African American community closed. Ned was so upset with that situation that he went back to the YMCA in Chicago that was integrated.
Ned was a great neighbor in his later days at the Mather as well. My mother in law lived down the hall from Ned and Albe and he was virtualy the mayor of the builidng. I'll certainly miss Ned, and I am a better person for knowing him and enjoying his company, wisdom and great stories. He is now dancing and singing with Albe and I'm glad for that. I'll toast my next domestic microbrew to you (and Albe too).
To the children: Let's keep the memories of Ned, Albe, Harold, and Ethel Mae alive through lifelong friendships. I look forward to memorializing our beloved Ned and conversing with you at Prairie Moon Restaurant.
Ned is the most reliable grandparent I have ever known, and from an early age I was able to appreciate that and take comfort in the unique way he and grandma Albe functioned as additional parents in my life. He was not overbearing, he was there when I needed him, or if I just wanted to play, and he didn’t bat an eyelash about it. He never asked anything in return for all the wonderful things he did for Jack and me as kids and into our adulthood. He was happy to be in the moment with us. Looking back on it now, I wonder how many times throughout my childhood I called that oh so familiar 869 telephone number, asking if I could come over to play? Never once in my 18 years growing up in Evanston was I met with any answer other than “Come on over Clairesy!” I can’t help but smile when I think of how he couldn’t wait to tell someone I was his favorite granddaughter. Not only did he tell me I was beautiful (up until his last month of life), but he always treated me like a lady, for which I am more grateful than he could ever know.
As I grew into a young adult, I became acutely aware of my grandfather’s character and why it was that he was so loved by the Evanston community and beyond. Ned did not need to attend a church or be a religious man to embody the motto “do unto others as you would have them do unto you”. He practiced that every single day of his life with close friends, family, acquaintances, and strangers. Each and every person my grandpa encountered was worth his time and important to him, and as I observed his interactions throughout the years, I learned the quality of listening, not just hearing. When I think on his benevolence and grace in how he treated others I’m reminded of the quote, “You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him”.
Grandpa Ned taught me to experience small joys slowly. Don’t rush a beer with a friend, don’t leave a party early, don’t pass up an opportunity to try something new, and above all else, find the value in learning about other people and what they have to say. Ned never, ever discounted what someone had to say, and he had such unfaltering faith in the human spirit. Grandpa Ned will be with me when I enjoy the company of friends over dinner, when I put up campaign yard signs on a nippy October day, or when I travel to a new place that is far off the beaten path. Whenever I’m on a mountain top or beside the ocean, and I feel the breeze, I will take an extra minute to enjoy and be grateful for that experience, and remember that’s all he ever asked of anyone.
He was always positive, quick with jokes, and a wonderful storyteller. Playing cards was always great fun with him. As pointed out, he was consistently good for a zero bid.
He and Albe raised a wonderful, caring family of which they were obviously very proud.
Ned and Albe will be missed, but they leave a lot of wonderful memories with a huge number of people.
He had an absolute commitment to fairness and honesty and never ever ever told a lie.
He took his life very seriously, but had a tremendous joie de vivre, and always sought the positive angle. He was a boatload of fun to be with.
He took great pleasure in very simple things, such as white grapefruit, great beer, and a treehouse.
He and my mom took me camping starting when I was six months old. To them I owe my love of the outdoors.
He was a dedicated FDR Democrat, his world view encapsulated in the FDR quote which hung on his wall: "The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much, it is whether we provide enough for those who have too little."
He had a rock-solid moral compass and was the most unambiguously moral person I have ever known. He had no self doubt, never wavered in his opinions, he knew what was right and what was wrong, and he lived his values every day of his life.
He loved his kids, my mom (67 years married), his neighborhood, and his town. I believe he thought he was the luckiest guy in the world.
Leave a Tribute
Please be patient.
Please be patient.
My mother, Ruth Eloise Lauterbach (Hulett) was Ned's cousin. I got to know Ned at our every third year Lauterbach Family Reunion. As the reunions ticked off, I found myself eagerly awaiting my next chance to see Ned. My mother adored him, and I think that before she passed away a few years ago they were the last cousins of many that had existed before. She felt a great kinship with Ned even though they lived far away from each other and did not get together too often. The Lauterbach Family Reunion was a very big event for her and Ned was the #1 highlilght, especially in the later years when they were the only two cousins left.
As you go through life you meet people who seem somewhat bigger than life, others that have a deep empathy, those that have a high intellect, a few with a great sense of humor, and some exceptional people who seem to embrace life as a fantastic exploration. Ned seemed to me to embody all those traits. And to top it off he always seemed interested in what I had to say. He was a guy that it was so easy to be around.
He was very missed at our last family reunion when his health did not allow him to travel. It was a great reunion, but was missing a very key ingredient. With him and Albe as parents, no wonder all the kids turned out to be such wonderful people. I am sure they feel very blessed to have the parents they did. I will miss him and will never forget him. AND NED, I STILL HAVE EVERY SINGLE LAUTERBACH REUNION T-SHIRT THAT YOU PRODUCED!!
Stud
I’m not sure why, but I started calling Ned Lauterbach “Stud” shortly after I met him when the Lauterbach family moved into our neighborhood. He was one of the most peaceful, supportive and interesting people I have met in this lifetime. The last time I saw Stud was when he was in the finishing stages of the tree house in Evanston. We had to use an extension ladder to climb up to the platform and the dumb waiter was still being fine tuned but was functional enough to bring up the two bottles of beer Albe placed on it for us. It was a warm summer Evanston night on Forest Ave., with most of the same smells I remember from childhood. We had a warm talk for quite a while and it was as if I had only been away for 6 months or so. He was always a good listener, non-judgmental and helpful in a positive way.
I always used Stud and Albe as a measuring stick for a good marriage. They were intelligent, decent people who raised some smart, interesting and good children, and kept the Democratic Party strong in a conservative town. Not a bad resume.
I was glad for the few conversations we had by phone after he went to the retirement facility, he loved Albe completely.
With so much love, from Clairsey
My grandpa Ned left the world early in the morning on February 2, 2015- just shy of his 93rd birthday. Although I grieve a tremendous loss, I feel an overwhelming peace and comfort about his passing. I am humbled and blessed to have had my grandfather in my life for over 26 years, and I know he is finally resting happily with my grandma Albe -his girl- after one “helluva” life here on Earth. Grandpa Ned was one of my first true loves and throughout my childhood and young adulthood, an incredibly steadfast and adoring role model and friend. My grandpa was and will always be one of my best friends.
Ned is the most reliable grandparent I have ever known, and from an early age I was able to appreciate that and take comfort in the unique way he and grandma Albe functioned as additional parents in my life. He was not overbearing, he was there when I needed him, or if I just wanted to play, and he didn’t bat an eyelash about it. He never asked anything in return for all the wonderful things he did for Jack and me as kids and into our adulthood. He was happy to be in the moment with us. Looking back on it now, I wonder how many times throughout my childhood I called that oh so familiar 869 telephone number, asking if I could come over to play? Never once in my 18 years growing up in Evanston was I met with any answer other than “Come on over Clairesy!” I can’t help but smile when I think of how he couldn’t wait to tell someone I was his favorite granddaughter. Not only did he tell me I was beautiful (up until his last month of life), but he always treated me like a lady, for which I am more grateful than he could ever know.
As I grew into a young adult, I became acutely aware of my grandfather’s character and why it was that he was so loved by the Evanston community and beyond. Ned did not need to attend a church or be a religious man to embody the motto “do unto others as you would have them do unto you”. He practiced that every single day of his life with close friends, family, acquaintances, and strangers. Each and every person my grandpa encountered was worth his time and important to him, and as I observed his interactions throughout the years, I learned the quality of listening, not just hearing. When I think on his benevolence and grace in how he treated others I’m reminded of the quote, “You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him”.
Grandpa Ned taught me to experience small joys slowly. Don’t rush a beer with a friend, don’t leave a party early, don’t pass up an opportunity to try something new, and above all else, find the value in learning about other people and what they have to say. Ned never, ever discounted what someone had to say, and he had such unfaltering faith in the human spirit. Grandpa Ned will be with me when I enjoy the company of friends over dinner, when I put up campaign yard signs on a nippy October day, or when I travel to a new place that is far off the beaten path. Whenever I’m on a mountain top or beside the ocean, and I feel the breeze, I will take an extra minute to enjoy and be grateful for that experience, and remember that’s all he ever asked of anyone.