Klaus Schneider passed away on February 7, 2016, in Berlin, Germany.

Bozdoc Liviu George passed away on February 7, 2016, in Acilia, Italy.

Carlton Michael Dix was born in Baltimore, Maryland, on September 25, 1953. His parents, Carl Sr. and Bertha Dix, were long time Baltimore residents who raised 4 children of which Michael was the youngest Michael passed away on January 31, 2016.

Michael attended Forest Park Senior High School where he excelled in lacrosse. He didn't complete high school at Forest Park, but he received his GED from Calverton. As a young man, Michael had an enthusiasm for cars. While still a teenager, Mike took a car apart and put it back together. He had 3 parts left over because he couldn't figure out where to put them, but that car ran better than ever after he had put it back together. Mike could almost always breathe life into a car that seemed to be dead and make it possible to drive it again.

For most of his life, Mike was a hard worker, somebody who had a regular job and 2 or 3 side hustles. He worked at the Sparrows Point steel mill for more than 20 years, and during the many layoffs he endured over those years, he junked houses, delivered newspapers, worked at car repair shops, and tried his hand at DJ'ing; anything to keep busy and get by.

John Wesley, a co-founder of the Methodist Church, once said: “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, at all the times you can, in all the places you can.” I'm pretty sure Michael didn't study this religious leader's writings. I doubt that he ever even read this quote, but he did act on it throughout his life.

Michael made a point of helping people. If somebody needed a ride, they could get it from Mike. If they needed some money or something else, Mike would let them have it. If Mike had it, he'd share it with you. If you needed a place to stay, Mike would let you have a room in his house for as long as you needed it. Michael also donated to a number of charities, helping, among others, disabled veterans, and Native American Children.

Eight years ago, Michael suffered a stroke that left him unable to work as he had before or even to repair cars, but he still helped everybody he could. And if you asked him how he felt or how things were going, you knew his response would be, “I'm alright,” even if he wasn't doing so well.

Michael's parents preceded him in passing. He is survived by two sisters, Joyce Mitchell and Joanne Bailey, and a brother, Carl Dix Jr.; a son, Michael Polite, and a daughter, Carla Dix; three grandchildren: Marcel Michael Polite, Myah Marie Polite, and Mason Marquise Polite; nieces and nephews: LeNae Nelson, Andrea Woodson, Anne Mitchell, Carl Mitchell, Claudia Robeson, Berkley Pettigen, and William Bailey.

-Written by Carl Dix Jr.

Thomas Kent, 86, died January 20th, from complications due to congestive heart failure. Husband of Ann Matthews, and son of Stephen Girard and Philena Marshall Kent, Tom was born and raised in Summit, New Jersey and graduated from Lawrenceville School in 1947 and Williams College in 1951. He lived at The Hill at Whitemarsh in Lafayette Hill, Pennsylvania.

Following Navy service as a Communications officer and Navigator aboard the USS Chemung during the Korean conflict, he entered Columbia Law School in 1955. While still a student, he met his future wife whom he married in June 1957. They would have celebrated their 59th anniversary later this spring.

Tom joined the law firm of Cravath, Swaine and Moore in New York City after graduating from Columbia Law School in 1958. In 1963 he accepted a position in the legal department of Allied Chemical Corporation (later Allied Signal), from which he retired as Staff VP and Associate General Counsel in 1989. A specialist in environmental law, Tom was a committee member for numerous professional / trade associations, testified before congress on several occasions, and lectured at Harvard Business School, Williams College, the New Jersey Institute of Technology, and the University of South Carolina. After his retirement, he and his wife moved to Seabrook Island, SC where he enjoyed competitive tennis and world wide travel.

He had a long time association with Camp Susquehannock in northeastern Pennsylvania, starting as a tennis counselor while in college and, decades later, serving as Interim Director for two seasons. His sons attended as children and both rose to be members of senior staff. Tom's grandchildren have all been campers as well, with many of them also serving as counselors.

Tom was a lifelong athlete, with a particular passion for racquet sports, regularly earning age-group national rankings in both Squash and Tennis until he retired from competition at the age of 84.

In addition to his professional activities, Tom had a strong commitment to community service. In Summit he served as President of the PTO for Lincoln School, as President of The United Way of Summit and New Providence, and as a member of the City Council. On Seabrook Island, he was president of the property owners association, on the board of the Seabrook Island Club, and in Charleston served on the board of the Coastal Community Foundation. Of particular pride was his leadership role in the establishment of the first public tennis courts on Johns Island, SC.

In addition to his wife, he is survived by his daughter Celia Marin Kent (John Abernethy) of Waltham, MA and their children Marin and Mackenzie Abernethy; son Thomas (Tim) Kent, jr (Maude) of Ardmore, PA and their children James and Mia; and son Robert Kent, of Rockville, MD. He is also survived by two step-grandsons Dr. Abraham Abernethy and Dr. Jacob Abernethy, as well as many nieces and nephews. He was predeceased by his older brothers Stephen Girard Kent and Dr. George Marshall Kent.



Thomas Day Kent Sr.
Eulogy - by TDKjr.

My old man did a lot of things in his long life. It was an eye opening exercise helping put together his obituary – he was involved with so much and accomplished a lot. That said, when all is said and done, it is not the “What” so much that matters in life as the “How”. It is in this way that the life of Tom Kent shines so brightly, and why all of us left here today remember him so fondly. He touched all our lives where it matters most, with love. He cared about people and people cared about him – he was a genuinely “good” man. He understood what mattered in life and what didn’t; he spent his life’s energy, very pragnatically, trying to make this world a better place. In whatever endeavor, he gave it his all. Dedicated, determined and with just the right amount of gritty stubbornness!

The way one plays games says a lot about the way one goes through life. Anyone who has had the privilege of meeting my father on court, be it squash, tennis (or even paddle or ping pong), learned right away that my old man was a competitor, …a very fierce competitor. He loved to win (and hated to lose), and the closer the battle, the tighter the contest, the more focused and determined he got. …and he won …a lot. The trophies that lined the shelves in our living room growing up and boxes more of them in the attic can attest to that. But when the final point was over, win or lose, my father would shake his opponents hand, and together they would head off to get a beer (or 2) and revel in recalling the highlights of the match. And no doubt before they parted ways, they would have scheduled a date for a rematch. He understood instinctively that your greatest rivals should at the same time be your greatest friends. And since he had such a wonderfully wide ranging group of rivals, he was therefore blessed with many good friends.

In order to instill in his children this same spirit of healthy competition, he bet us all that we wouldn’t be able to beat him in tennis before we reached the age of 18, and in squash, by the age of 21. Later, just to wet our appetite I think, he added ping pong to the list for the nominal sum of $25 if we could beat him before we were 16. In full recognition that my father didn’t play any ping pong, we saw this as the low hanging fruit and the 3 of us practiced regularly. I believe we all managed to win that bet, but the Wiley old man was able to keep us youth at bay in both the others. He was a real competitor and he was never going to let anyone beat him if he could help it. So if by chance you are among the few to have scored victories over my old man, you can be sure that you earned it authentically, with your own sweat and talent, for it would never have happened otherwise.

So we shed a tear for him today as we reflect upon our lives now without him, but even as we do so, we can’t help but reflect upon all the good times we had with him and the wonderful fun that he so eagerly and wholeheartedly embraced, and which he shared with us so liberally and lovingly. …and then, through our tears we find ourselves laughing as we shift our focus from our sense of loss, to a sense of celebration – for a life well and fully lived, a life blessed with the love of family and friends. How very lucky was he …and how very very lucky are we.

Dumitru Gabriel Florin was born on September 18, 1982, in Bucharest, Romania, and passed away on February 7, 2016, in Bucharest, Romania.

Lindsey Hamilton Roach, passed away at home in Chicago, Illionois, on December 19th 2015. He was born to Doris and Jack Roach on January 22, 1956 in Knoxville, Tennessee, two days after his father's death. Lindsey, was raised by his mother and by the only father he ever knew, Mark Conley, whose career took the family across the country. Lindsey, and his sister adapted to the many moves. He graduated from Grandview High School, Grandview, Missouri in 1974.

He is survived by his children: Douglas Roach, Catherine (Roach) Cook, both of the greater Kansas City, metro area. Children Ashley (Roach) Christiano , of Tampa, Florida, Edward Roach, and Faith Roach of the greater Chicago metro area. Grandchildren: Julian Roach, Adeline and Charlotte Cook, Jordyn, Charlie, and Bella Christiano. He is also survived by his nephew Joseph Norton of Kansas City.

Lindsey was predeceased by his maternal grandparents Joseph and Edith Brewer, paternal grandparents Naomi and Daniel Roach, and Mark Conley's parents John and Theda Conley. Also Lindsey's sister Vicky (Roach) Norton, who died August 2, 2015.

Lindsey was a kind and loving person who was resilient, resourceful, and made friends easily. He never met a stranger. He had good times and bad, but he always tried to overcome adversity. He loved the Eagles band, sunsets, football, baseball, the ocean, and above all, his family. His motto was " I take it one day at a time."

Contributions in Lindsey's name, may be made to the American Diabetic Society, any local food pantries, and The Humane Society of the United States.

A self biography Tolie had made...


The beginning of a life is a sacred thing. A story with its own genre; cover to cover its pages are filled with what the narrator writes, the last few pages the black-blue ink still dries. A baby is our first page, born rather frail and weak. When bones were brittle, defective lungs, and a heart with many holes and tears. Not because she harbored hatred, she was born without the ability to hate. Growing up was hard because she was constantly bullied, hiding in the classrooms during lunch because the halls were a battlefield and she wasn't strong enough to fight those battles. The halls were an arsenal of names and she was called them all. In the first grade she earned her nickname that would follow her to the day she graduated; Popper. One part because of the pills, ninety nine parts because of the cruelty. See what these kids didn't know is these pills kept Popper alive. Without these medications before each meal, each sunset and sunrise, popper'a story would be cut short. Later on that year, she was sent home early from school. The news repeating the same headlines, because when hatred hit it hit hard, and when it hit it burned and when it burned it collapsed.... Within those collapsed towers and thousands of people, a man who risked his life to save hundreds. From then on, she began to live with fear in her heart. Now building up through school, health problems arose and medication was the key. Oh how the names could be cruel. She had a personality made up of tests and pills, lived like the uphills were mountains and the downhills were cliffs. Four fifths suicidal and a tidal wave of antidepressants. She tried to cut her story short in her own hands due to the cruelty and wanting to die her own way and not due to the terminal illness. She secluded herself within the safety of four walls in her house, playing solitaire spin the bottle and tried to kiss the parts of her that were wounded. In grade eleven she met a boy who she thought was her life. This boy had alternate motives, who knew love hurt so badly? Not only through emotional but through tragic pain. A car screech and a woman's scream, followed by the sound of crunching metal. From a simple argument, a gun was brought up and she knew she must find an end. Blessed with a baby a short time later but also cursed with the memories. She would shout and cry within the realms if her dreams because even there, she wasn't safe. To this day, she still thinks she's ugly despite a loving son who's definition of the word beauty begins with the word mom and ends with the words isn't, because she has always been beautiful to him. He saw her heart before he saw her skin. He saw what was inside and deemed her beautiful. The writer fell gravely sick, was in the hospital, wasting away with machines hooked to her body that buzzed and beeped every time her heart leaped. A mask around her face to give her oxygen because her lungs- couldn't filter carbon dioxide from oxygen. Her mother stayed well past visiting hour because for her that term didn't apply. You know the worst part about being sick is you get all the free ice cream you ask for... The worst part about that is realizing there's nothing more they can do for you; ice cream doesn't make everything okay. At that moment the writer realized that there aren't enough miracles to go around.. There's too many people petitioning god for the winning lotto ticket. So there's silence. No music. The only sound that breaks the silence are the sounds of a dying girls mother taking liberties with heaven. There's 6.5 billion people curled up like fists protesting death, but She realized every breath we take has to be given back... what is your night worth without a story to tell, and why wield a word like worth if you’ve got nothing to sell. people drop pennies down a wishing well as if the cost of a desire is equal to that of a thought. but if you’ve got expectations expect others have bought your exact same dream for the price of the hard work, hang in, hold on mentality, like I accept any challenge so challenge me
like I’ve brought a knife to this gun fight, but other night I mugged a mountain so bring that shit I’ve had practice. She broke free of the monitors and now lives on, because her will is made if stone and her heart as large as a planet. Before the author can close her story, she must finish writing the pages and if she runs out? There's always time to write a sequel.

CalmanBot “{Nickname}” {Last Name} (née {Maiden Name}) died {unexpectedly/peacefully} in {location} on {date} in {City, State} at the age of {age}.
CalmanBot is survived by {his/her} {parents, Name and Name of Location; wife/husband, Name; children, Names; siblings, Names of Locations}. {He/she} is preceded in death by {relatives, Names, of Locations}.
CalmanBot was born on {date} in {City, State} to {Parent Names}. {He/she} graduated from {School} in {year} with a degree in {field}. {He/she} married CalmanBot, {his/her high school sweetheart/a mechanical engineer/etc.} in {year}. After moving to {Location}, CalmanBot began working for {Company} as a {position}. Over {period of time}, the couple welcomed {number} children into their home and CalmanBot set about teaching them {skill/trade}. {His/her} children remember {him/her} as a {kind/gentle/patient/driven} {father/mother} who encouraged them to pursue their goals.
CalmanBot was accomplished at {skill/talent} and often {example of talent}. {He/she} was a {generous/witty/dedicated} individual who loved {subject} and who was passionate about {changing the world/educating students/bacon/etc.}. {He/she} was an active and dedicated member of the {Church/Club/etc.} and often volunteered at {location}.
A funeral is scheduled for {time and date} at {location}, with a reception to follow at {location}. {Title} CalmanBot will officiate the ceremony. All are welcome to attend and celebrate CalmanBot’s life. In lieu of flowers, please send donations to {Charity/Hospital/person/etc.} at {address}. Condolences can be sent to {URL}. The family would like to thank {caregivers/hospital staff/etc.} for {his/her/their} {efforts/care/dedication}.