Wells, Maine- S.C. Terance O'Mahoney, 77 of Wells, died on December 19, 2014 at York Hospital.

Terry was born in Plymouth, England, on July 25, 1937, and raised there and in London until he emigrated to the United States in 1959. After landing in New York, he approached the Greyhound Bus Terminal and inquired after the most expensive one-way ticket available. He was soon relieved of his 99 dollars and found himself in San Francisco shortly thereafter.

Following his arrival in California, Terry enlisted in the U.S. Army, where he was assigned as a field artillery forward observer, and promptly stationed along the border with Czechoslovakia in U.S.-occupied West Germany. To his chagrin, and his future family’s gratitude, Terry passed an uneventful tour free of direct contact with the Soviets until his return to the San Francisco Bay Area in 1962.

Terry spent the following years working alternately as a reserve police officer in Menlo Park and Berkeley, and a real estate appraiser before starting Allied Savings Bank in Santa Rosa, CA, by procuring the final private bank charter issued in California. His free time was occupied racing catamarans on San Francisco Bay, or big game hunts in places like the Aghileen Pinnacles in Alaska, Okavango Swamp in Botswana, and the Balkan Mountains of Communist Bulgaria. Professionally, Terry served as the CEO, President, and Chairman of the Board at Allied Savings Bank until retiring from banking in 1996.

Terry met his wife of 32 years, Kimberley Chase, in 1980, and they were married just over a year later following a swift courtship.

In 1998, after a move to the Seacoast, Terry resumed his real estate appraisal career. The family spent time in Kittery and York before settling in Wells during the summer of 2012.
He spent the last year continuing to build his appraisal business hand-in-hand with his daughter Áine, while serving as President of the Maine Chapter of the American Appraisal Institute.
In addition to his wife, family members include his daughter Áine and her husband Tom Cronin, of Exeter, NH, son Chase and his wife Claire O’Mahoney of Virginia Beach, VA, son Benedict and his wife Terry O’Mahoney, and granddaughters Tarryn and Trinity, of Foster City, CA, and his beloved black Labrador Retriever, Izzy.

The family is planning a celebration of life in the spring. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made in Terry’s name to the Portland Community Health Center, to ensure that the standard of care that Terry received continues to be available to those that need it most (portlandcommunityhealthcenter.org).

Care for the O'Mahoney family has been entrusted to the JS Pelkey Funeral Home.

Yesterday afternoon, my mum quietly passed away. As many of her family as could quickly gather were there to share her final moments, crowded reverently into her bedroom (a place far too small for that many full-grown Trokes) and, at her request, gently singing some of her favourite hymns.

It's a weird thing, writing a Facebook update like this. I've always maintained that Facebook was for seeing pictures of friends and family, and keeping them updated – and that's the spirit in which I post this. If you want to share a little moment with me, read on...

My mother has always been a large-than-life, truly formidable woman, and as I watched her frail, withered body gently give up its hold on mortality yesterday I felt a tremendous sense of relief for her. The inexorable advance of cancer may have reduced her body, but it did nothing at all to dampen her spirits or diminish her true stature.

So today I am going to pay tribute to the mum that I was always remember throughout this life: This one goes out to the towering matriarch who saw us kids off to school each morning with a “Be good,” and welcomed us back each evening with a kiss and a subtle interview to find out if we had. To the first-aider who picked gravel out of knees when bike accidents took place in the lay-by in Netley Marsh, who tended a million stinging nettle rashes and more than a few broken hearts over the years. Here's to the amazon warrioress who thundered forth from our house to lambaste the strange woman who shouted at seven-year old me so much I wet myself (true story), and who then instructed me in the error of my ways when she realised exactly 'why' I was getting shouted at in the first place. Here's to the wall-juddering shouts of “One,” that would bring five or more children scurrying from the corners of the house and beyond to answer judgement, and also to the outpouring of love and hugs that invariably followed any chastisement we earned.

Here's to the mother whose open door policy led to countless sleep-overs, sometimes with so many brothers, sisters, friends and foster-siblings that the living room floor simply wasn't enough and the tent had to go up in the garden. Here's to dinners that always went just far enough, to sandwich picnics that she made, but wasn't well enough to attend, and to the eternal council “Adam, have you offered your friend anything to eat or drink yet.” Sorry guys.

Here's to the relentless worker, who served in so many church callings that I can barely think to list them; who showed me by example what it is to prepare to teach Sunday School, who drowned a house in colourful cut-outs for Primary lessons and who tended to her sisters so diligently in Relief Society (non-church friends, my mum was a flippin' powerhouse at church when I was a kid). Here's to the woman who, when bed-ridden and not well enough to serve physically herself, deployed a legion of sons to do her bidding, and taught us to take joy in the work. I am sure few women can claim to have moved more washing machines, cleared messy garages and painted (badly) more walls by proxy than my mother. Here's to the seamstress who made dresses for proms, bridesmaids and brides for friends at church and school, to the chef who made endless cakes and dishes for socials. Here's to the choir-director and hand-waver that sang the hymns at church so loudly, and with such zeal, that it was actually a little embarrassing sometimes...

Here's to the scholar, who educated and instructed, taught me letters and numbers and a love of the English language. Who proof-read and cajoled, who demanded better when it could be achieved and soothed battered egos when it couldn't. Who has read essays on Charlemagne and Trotsky and pointed out inconsistencies you could drive a bus through. Who in later years has taken a glowing, righteous, pride in the stories and games that her efforts, put in so many years before, enabled.

So here's to the cook, the scribe, the teacher, the nurse, the counsellor, the confident, the entertainer, the budgeter, the coach and the friend (you've never seen someone lead the Galactic Empire in a game of Star Wars toys quite like my mum. My poor Ewoks). To the lady who picked me up, dusted me off and set me back at the task again, and again and again.

Finally, here's to the daughter of God, who taught me that death is not the end, and that families can be together forever. Something I still believe, even though it's not cool to do so. To the lady who made mistakes, and then put them right, who loved unconditionally and defended her own, and those she gathered to her, like a tigeress.

Finally, I'd like to offer you all my own condolences. If you've known my mum over the years, you might be feeling a little sad too. I think her most lasting legacy on this earth will be the lives she has touched, the friends she has made and the brothers and sisters she has brought into our family. So if your heart is aching a little, like mine is, it only goes to show what a splendid job she made of the incredibly hard task, of being a human.

Adam Troke, 7th April 2015

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We invite everyone to share their favourite stories and memories about Mum (Susanne) on this site. We especially invite those that are far away and unable to be with us on the 18th to share their thoughts on this page.

We would appreciate your photos, stories and memories. Before the funeral we intend to bring these all together into one place and print them for everyone to be able to see. As such we would ask if possible that people are able to add their memories prior to the end of Friday (April 10th) to allow Hannah-Sheree to do her magic.

Thanks in advance, we are excited to read everyone's contributions.

The Troke Family

Ronald Dennis James lived a long and fulfilling life. In 1980 married his beautiful wife Linda, and of this union 2 loving children, Lisa and Ronald Jr. resulted. Ronald was born in Manhattan New York and was a member of the United States Army for 15 years.

A man strong in faith, in character and in wisdom. Daddy was a father to fathers, a leader in every sense of the word, and a rare mentor. A man with a legacy that remains impeccable, one of God's generals on earth who through his words, presence and impact made a difference in the lives of all he met. A man of integrity who remained true and resolute even till the very end; faithful and committed to his calling, he did not waver in faith at any point in time. A loving husband, father, grand father, pastor, and friend, he has left his graffiti on the sands of time.
We do not mourn as those who do not have hope, we are confident in the legacy you have left behind. You remain in all our hearts, and in our minds, as a voice to guide, and as a trailblazer whose path we follow.

à venir

This memorial was created in the memory of our beloved Patricia Jean Walker who was born in Valparaiso, Indiana on 28th August 1963 and passed away on 4th April 2015, 51 years of age. Our Beloved Mother, Wife, and friend to many.

She is survived by her husband Douglas Walker, son Jason Vinroe, Daughters Suzanne Gordon and Tina Walker, 7 Grand Children, Brothers Ronnie Nuss and Roger Byers, Sister-in-Law Rhonda Sullivan.

God Took Her To His Loving Home

God saw her getting tired, a cure was not to be.
He wrapped her in his loving arms and whispered 'Come with me.'
She suffered much in silence, her spirit did not bend.
She faced her pain with courage, until the very end.
She tried so hard to stay with us but her fight was not in vain,
God took her to his loving home and freed her from the pain.

CAPPARELLI, Robert N. was born July 13, 1934 in Chicago, Illinois passed away March 21, 2015 in Sacramento. Husband of Freda Capparelli (deceased) and father to Albert Capparelli, Susan Capparelli (decesed), Robert Capparelli (decesed) and Paul Capparelli, and grandfather to Shaun Caun, Eric Caun, Michael Capparelli, Shawn Capparelli, Serena Lujan, Sabra Hill, and Shannon Capparelli. He is also survived by several brothers and sisters. He will be deeply missed. Private family service to be held.

Coesther Le Dora Taylor was born January 8, 1916 to Robert and Lucy Harper Ward. The 6th of 16 children, she grew up on a farm in Clarksdale, Mississippi. Her mother’s work as a mid-wife inspired Coesther from a very young age, and she often spoke of her admiration for this work and a longstanding desire to assist her mother with delivering babies.

After marrying Edward Taylor in 1937, Coesther moved with her husband to St. Louis, Missouri where she lived for 7 years. In 1939 her son Wardess was born. During World War II she packed her young son and took a long train ride to join her husband, who had relocated to the Bay Area for work. The family would eventually settle in Berkeley, CA and in 1947 her youngest son Wilbert was born. Coesther began working in the homes of local physicians while completing her certification and training as a Psychiatric Technician, and soon she started work in the psych ward at Highland Hospital. An intense job where she frequently had to manage difficult and even dangerous patients, she worked the night shift for over 30 years. At this point a single mother, she would often take jobs during the day as well. She continued to work in the homes of many local physicians even well into her retirement simply out of love for caring for others. In 1970, Wardess found the house at 1346 Ordway - the place that she would call home for 45 years.

Rarely one to shy away from an adventure, Coesther enjoyed travelling and could always be counted on to share stories about her excursions: day trips to Reno, cruises to Alaska, and visits to family everywhere from Maui to Chicago to Mississippi. She cherished the moments she spent with family and friends and could always be counted on to snap photos memorializing every event – taking so many pictures that she was known as the unofficial family historian. She grew fruits and vegetables in her garden and was a force in the kitchen, living a healthy, organic lifestyle well before it was popular. She adored dogs and had quite a few in her lifetime. And as an active and devoted member of the Church of the Good Shepherd for most of her life, Coesther always made room for God. She held various positions within the church and even served as a member of the Board of Christian Education. She was steadfast in her faith, loved her church and its fellow members, and was a regular churchgoer well into her golden years when she could no longer attend weekly. She was mighty, quick-witted, sharp, and fiercely independent.

Coesther died peacefully in her home on March 29, 2015 at the remarkable age of 99. She is survived by her sister Lucille Walker in Chicago; her brother Dewitt Ward in Berkeley; her seven grandchildren Miles, Aaron, Shokai, Kanoa, Kaisha, Gavin and Cicely; her 8 great-grandchildren Kayleigh, Katherine, Jacob, Zane, Kyra, AJ, Shayleigh and Ryan; her great-great-grandchild Solenne; and a host of nieces, nephews and cousins.

She was preceded in death by her parents Robert and Lucy; her siblings Mary, Pearl, Bessie, Robert, Jessie, Brinkley, Odessa, Narvelle, Lula, Bunyan, Joe, Sherman, and John; and her sons Wardess and Wilbert.

Dick Morgan was born in Long Beach, California to George and Marion Morgan. They had already lost a baby boy so their baby Richard was especially treasured. He was their only child. His mother doted on him and raised him with all the advantages she could afford. His father was a salesman so the family moved around the country a lot and struggled through the Depression like so many others at the time.

He spent a year in New York City as a small boy. His father has children by a previous marriage living in New York and he met his much older sisters and brother for the first time. He couldn’t remember meeting them but his sister Vivienne recalled being surprised by the little boy with his bright red hair. Marion embraced her step-children (their mother had died by then) and they cherished her and their new little brother.

Dick didn’t have pleasant memories of New York, though. He recalled being terrorized by street gangs that would chase him home from school. He was glad when the family moved back to California.

His father was an avid fisherman so they spent many summers at Convict Lake in the Sierra Nevada. Thus began a lifelong love of the High Sierra mountains, camping, backpacking, and wilderness adventure.

The family lived near Hollywood for awhile. Marion loved movies and they went almost every week-end to see the latest films. When she heard MGM was holding auditions for “Huckleberry Finn” she took little Ritchie to the studio. The casting director asked to talk to him alone in his office. He said, “Son, do you really want to be an actor?” Richie said “No”. The casting director escorted him out and explained to his disappointed mother that he just wasn’t right for the part.

Richie attended several schools throughout the Los Angeles area and that one year in New York. After his first year of high school in Los Angeles his mother insisted they settled down in one place. His parents bought a motor court (precursor to the motel) on the Rogue River outside Grant’s Pass, Oregon. Dick enjoyed his years at Grant’s Pass high school. He played violin in the band. By this time he was 6’2” and recruited for the football team. His only complaint about his high schools years was that he was first on the school bus in the morning and last off at the end of the route every day.

After high school Dick started at Oregon Agricultural College (now Oregon State University) in Corvallis. He had spent his childhood tinkering with Rube Goldberg models, soapbox derby cars, and taking apart clocks, toasters, and anything else he could get hold of. So it was natural that he would one day major in engineering. The war was on and by this time his parents had moved to Washington to help build Liberty ships in the Vancouver shipyards. Dick spent his summers working there.

Marion had ambitions for her son that went beyond their life in the rural Pacific Northwest and encouraged him to enroll at the California Institute of Technology. When Dick arrived he was told that none of his credits from OAC would transfer so he would have to start over as a freshman. Undaunted, he graduated from Cal Tech in 1949 with a bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering. He played left tackle for the Caltech Beavers.

By this time engineers were being aggressively recruited to help design rockets for nuclear warheads. Dick was soon working at North American Aviation developing rocket technology, where he met and was smitten with a brilliant and pretty analyst named Mary Sherman. They married in 1951. By 1962 they had four children.

Although Dick had a great career at Rocketdyne (a spin-off of NAA in 1955) his true love was automobiles. He bought a brand new Volkswagen Beetle in 1953 which he tinkered on and souped up to 75 horsepower. He wrote one of the very first books on hot-rodding VW’s: “Souping the Volkswagen”, published in 1960. In the early 70s he started racing a Jaguar at Speed Week at the Bonneville Salt Flats and came within a fraction of a second of breaking a land speed record for his class of engine.

He often bought old cars with the intention of restoring them. There were usually 6 or 7 cars in the driveway, the garage, on the back patio waiting for restoration. He was always working on one or another on week-ends and evenings.

When he wasn’t tinkering on cars or working up a new invention he would be helping his sons build large scale rockets in the garage and launch them in the desert as amateur rocket engineers.

Dick and Mary loved to travel, camp and backpack, and having 4 kids in tow never slowed them down. As soon as a child was ready to hike (at 4 or 5 yrs old) they hit the trails. Many summers were spent camping and backpacking in Yosemite. Alternate years were spent at the other great natural wonders all over the western United States. In 1976 they and their 2 daughters drove across the country to Washington DC for the Bicentennial. In the early 80’s they were among the first American tourists to visit mainland China. And they later toured Europe in a rented motor home, seeing the great sites of the continent, like the Fiat Museum in Italy.

After the success of the Apollo program, Dick switched departments and began developing renewable energy sources in the form of solar energy. He designed the energy storage system for the Solar I plant built outside Barstow, California.

When federal money for the solar program dried up after the 1980 election of Ronald Reagan, Dick decided to forge his own path in energy conservation and research. He and Mary founded their own company, American Energy Consultants. The business was a great success as California was passing stricter regulations for energy conservation. They became the foremost experts in Title 24 energy code.

When Mary developed COPD Dick took care of her until she died in 2004. He was devastated but still did not retire. While recuperating from a broken hip 2010 he met a caregiver who gave him a new lease on life. He married Mercy and spent the last four years of his life with her. She made him very happy.

Dick was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer just weeks before he died on June 3, 2014. As he requested he was buried holding one of his beloved model cars.

He is survived by his beloved wife Mercy, his four children, George Morgan, Steve Morgan, Monica Felo Weber, and Karen Morgan Newe and their spouses. He also is survived by fifteen grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. He will be greatly missed.