Lonnie Harvey Foster

LONNIE HARVEY FOSTER JANUARY 25, 1943 – FEBRUARY 12, 2010 Loving husband, father, grandfather, uncle, & friend Lonnie Foster was a man of many quirks, habits, beliefs, and ideals. He was a serious man, yet extremely funny and playful. He was a man of reflection and prudence, yet impulsive and spontaneous. He was stubborn while still maintaining a rational flexibility. He was a man of conviction and purpose. But most of all he was a man with a tremendous heart. A loving, affectionate, emotional man who dedicated his life to his family, he was always there for anyone who needed his brawn, his time, his wisdom, or his love. He was a giver. A selfless man who grew strength in knowing that God had a plan for him and for those he loved. He was a true patriarch, guiding his family through good times and bad, never relenting, always keeping an eye on what was important in life—God, family, country. Lonnie was born on January 25, 1943 in Blackwell Oklahoma, the second child of Kenneth & Mildred Foster. Together with brother Eldon (three years older), the family of four lived in a three-room home in Blackwell that included a kitchen, living room, and single bedroom. There was no hot water, no bathroom, only a real life outhouse in the backyard. In the winter the family would take baths in a #2 washtub on the kitchen floor using water heated in pots by their beloved mother. In the summer they would shower in the yard using the garden hose. Lonnie and Eldon slept together on a rollaway bed in the bedroom with their parents until 1955 when Kenneth built on to the home, adding two new bedrooms and an actual indoor bathroom with running hot water. To Lonnie this was absolute luxury. “I thought we were rich,” remembered Lonnie. Other memories include attending “old time gospel revivals” at his grandmother’s church, and receiving his first baptism at age 10. “(My initial baptism) revealed God’s love to me, but my life change was gradual,” Lonnie recollected. Lonnie remembers he and his family sitting around the radio in the living room listening to “Amos & Andy,” “The Shadow Knows,” “Jack Benny,” “The Lone Ranger,” and Harry Caray announce Cardinals baseball games. Other dear memories include playing catch with his dad on the side of the yard and taking summer picnics with the family. Nearly every Sunday Lonnie’s mom would make fried chicken and mashed potatoes (Lonnie called them “ditters”), letting Lonnie eat as much mashed potatoes as he could swallow. Like most kids Lonnie had household chores like washing dishes and such, never receiving an allowance (allowance was a Greek word to folks in Lonnie’s neighborhood). He also had to empty the “pee pot.” This was a pot left in the kitchen for use as a middle-of-the-night commode so they wouldn’t have to venture out to the outhouse in the cold, dark night. Every morning Lonnie had to tote that pot out to the outhouse to empty it. You can imagine a small boy walking through the snow carrying a full pot. Not all of the contents made it to the outhouse, but instead wound up frozen to his leg. Despite the occasional stain on his pants, Lonnie persuaded Kathy Drake to accompany him on his first date at age 12. They walked downtown to the movies where they said about a half dozen words to each other the entire time. He remembered putting his arm around Kathy’s chair while making sure he never actually touched her. Perhaps this shyness resulted from Eldon’s “birds-and-the-bees” talk he had with Lonnie at age 9. “I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone,” said Lonnie. Apparently Eldon gave Lonnie too much information. Lonnie also remembered his mother doting on him, though it embarrassed him at the time, looking back he cherished those memories. Memories that weren’t so tender were those of his brother’s merciless teasing. Eldon called him “freckle butt,” though Lonnie swears his butt was freckle free. But typically, only Eldon was allowed to mess with Lonnie. Ever the protective big brother Eldon looked out for his little bro. Lonnie even recalled a time where he fell into a pool of water and he couldn’t swim. As he started to sink, Eldon appeared and reached in to pull him out. Lonnie was certain he would have drowned had Eldon not been looking out for him. In sports Lonnie was called “half-pint.” At 5’6” this seems fitting, but his skill was much greater than his size. Again, on the sporting field his enormous heart shone. Lonnie was fierce, never backing down and never being intimidated. He excelled at most sports including basketball, baseball, football, and even diving. In high school he lettered in three sports for the Blackwell High Maroons. (In basketball as the starting point guard, in baseball as the starting shortstop, and in football as an All-District quarterback.) Though baseball may have been his favorite sport, it was football that he looked back on with the most fondness. Lonnie loved to tell stories of his gridiron triumphs. Recalling his cherished memories of the friendships and bonds that were formed on those frigid Oklahoma fall evenings was a great delight for Lonnie. “We had one ball. None of this keeping balls in a warmer and cycling them through. No. One ball, frozen solid, on a field frozen to the hardness of concrete. And I had big Bill Wheeler blocking for me. We ran the single wing (today they call it the Wildcat). We didn’t pass much in those days but we would go out and hit people. We had guys like Jim Rodgers—I love those guys.” After high school, Lonnie joined the Navy. This changed his life forever. “I thought I was pretty grown up at 18. But I found out quick how much I had to learn. It was very hard for me because of my stubborn independence, but I learned how to take the path of least resistance. (Basically, how to keep my butt out of trouble.) Being thrown together with guys from all over the country with every different kind of background was a real education. I made some great friends (including a lifelong friend in Bob Johnson). I learned the reality of what it takes to lay down your life for your country during the Cuban Missile Crisis. (Lonnie served on a carrier in the Caribbean Sea in the fall of 1962. This put him on the front lines of what became the most serious threat of U.S-Soviet nuclear war that ever materialized.) I didn’t like the service but it was good for me.” Lonnie always struggled with people who tried to tell him what to do. In 1965, while still in the Navy, Lonnie met and married Geraldine Hayes. Together they had three beautiful daughters—Lorena, Patricia, and Helen. But unfortunately Lonnie and Geraldine’s marriage did not last. Upon their divorce Geraldine moved her and the girls to Oklahoma and Lonnie remained in California where the family had been living It was at this time that Lonnie met Linda Rossetti, a divorcee with three beautiful daughters of her own. They both worked at Keysor Century Record Plant in Newhall, CA. Lonnie worked at the plant pressing phonograph records. He would come out from the muck of the plant to the front office where lovely Linda was working away. Lonnie would be dressed in moth-eaten clothing covered in filth while Linda would be clad in pristine business suits. They began making “googie-eyes” at each other, and Lonnie’s trips to the office became more frequent and had less official purpose, other than flirting with Linda. Eventually Lonnie asked Linda for a date and she accepted. “I could see through the grime to the beauty of his heart,” recalls Linda. “Plus he cleaned up well and was very handsome.” Their courtship continued for about a year before Lonnie asked Linda to be his wife. They married on a Friday, December 30, 1972, and they spent their honeymoon at Disneyland. (They couldn’t go too far as they both had to be at work the following Tuesday.) “Marrying Linda, with three kids, was probably the gutsiest thing I ever did. But I did it because I loved her and wanted a family so bad. We had Brian (1974) because we felt it would tie us all together as a family. All you kids would interconnect more as a family. I think you kids really love each other so we must have done OK.” Lonnie always described Linda as his best friend and soul mate. Lonnie was always an extremely diligent worker. His first job was at age 8, bailing hay with his good friend Dale Pontius. They earned a penny per bail, but perhaps more importantly he learned the value of hard work and what is required to make a buck (or a penny in this case). Lonnie reinforced this lesson his entire life. He worked graveyard shifts, split shifts, overtime; all in hard, manual labor jobs. It wasn’t because he enjoyed it, only because his family needed his support. However, his lifelong dream was to get out from under someone else’s direction and be his own boss. Eventually he saved enough (saving money was Lonnie’s ticket to independence and he always instilled this ideal in his children) and mortgaged enough to open his own business in 1986. It was at this time he opened a Subway sandwich shop in his now adopted hometown of Camarillo, CA. He worked that Subway store morning, noon, and night until he paid off his debts, gained security, and expanded to 2, 3, and 4 stores. His dream had been realized and he finally had real financial stability. Another reward Lonnie gained from his time in Subway was the friendship with Dave Di Tomaso, a fellow franchisee. Dave was a true friend whom Lonnie always viewed as a brother until the end. “Friendship is about trust, trust, trust,” professed Lonnie. At 42 Lonnie was again baptized and rededicated himself to the Lord. He was greatly influenced by Pastor Forrest Stone who had a profound impact on Lonnie’s entire family. Lonnie also recalled the influence of Bess Kelly, a friend of his mother’s, in guiding his Christian walk. “She is the most caring, patient, loving person I have ever met in my life. Her example was my greatest help (in finding and staying on God’s path),” said Lonnie. In his later years, Lonnie began attending the Calvary Chapel with Pastor Bruce Zachary. It was here he refocused his life and began to search the scriptures once more, growing in the sunshine of God’s word. During his last years, months, and days Lonnie grew closer to the Lord than ever. Lonnie never received an education in higher learning. He didn’t really travel to exotic places. He never felt the need to drive expensive cars or live in extravagant homes. He didn’t wear Italian suits or belong to upscale country clubs. He only lived according to his needs and his family’s needs. He instilled love and wisdom in his children and his friends. He was a guiding light, a harbor to be relied upon again and again to protect his family and allow them the sanctity of calm waters. Yet he never accepted his family’s retreat to the dock. Instead he re-launched their vessels with repaired masses and mended hulls. Encouraging them to sail again into the waters of this wonderful life, and to bask in the glistening tranquility of God’s love. Lonnie Foster was loved by more people than can be counted. He will never be forgotten. Lonnie is survived by his seven children: Lorina Hinton (Fairfield, CA) Patricia Lopez (Chickasha, OK) Helen Foster (McKinney, TX) Christina Willson (Corona, CA) Carolyn Stankis (Camarillo, CA) Lisa Rangell (Fillmore, CA) Brian Foster (Camarillo, CA) And his 10 grandchildren: Ashley Ines (Sacramento, CA) Brian Ines (Fairfield, CA) Veronica Lopez (Chickasha, OK) Mikel Parish (McKinney, TX) Victoria Parish (McKinney, TX) Grant Willson (Corona, CA) Candice Willson (Corona, CA) Cole Whelan (Camarillo, CA) Luke Rangell (Fillmore, CA) Joshua Rangell (Fillmore, CA)