George Chester Louderbough Jr, 96,  died Wednesday, June 19 after a lengthy illness. 

Mr. Louderbough was born in Bristol Borough, Pennsylvania and except for a short time in Levittown, PA,  was a lifelong resident of Bristol, before moving to Millville, NJ in 2015. 

The son of George Chester and Florence Louderbough (nee: Pettit) he is predeceased by his wife of 71 years Ann (nee: Arbuthnot) and two sisters:  Marion Walter and Lois Bessinger.

Mr. Louderbough is survived by his daughter, Dianne, and her husband John Worthington, of Millville, NJ and his three grandchildren John Jr. (Paige Walker) of Haddon Township, Colleen (Dustin Keyser) of Cherry Hill, NJ and Joseph (Abigail) of Wilmington, DE.,  a number of nieces and nephews and  many grand and great-grand nephews and nieces. 

A graduate of Bristol High School Class of 1945, he served in the US Navy for two years. He was an employee of Rohn & Haas Bristol Plant where he retired after 38 years of service.  Following his retirement, he enjoyed spending time with his family and friends, woodworking, and weekly trips to Atlantic City with his wife. 

Private graveside services will be held at a later date at the Cumberland County Veterans Cemetery, Bridgeton, NJ. Memories of George and condolences for his family may be shared on the tribute wall.

 

John's Eulogy for George:

A good man died today, and his passing diminishes us all. Dianne’s Dad and my Father-in-law George Chester Louderbough Jr, ended his long fight this morning at the age of 96.

Born in the heights of the roaring ‘20s, raised during the depths of the Great Depression and coming of age amid the horrors of a World War, knew happiness and suffering, joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure over the course of nearly a century of life.  A quiet and unassuming man, he served his country and raised his family with honesty, integrity and hard work. He was a devoted husband to Ann, his wife of over 70 years,  a loving father to his only child, Dianne;  a patient and kind father-in-law to me, and a beloved mentor and friend to his three grandchildren.

I met Pops more than 40 years ago, and I can say without hesitation that I have never met a kinder, gentler man. In those four  decades, I never once heard as much as a harsh word from him, and I honestly cannot recall a single time where I heard him in an argument.  Everyone who met George loved him including me.

If he had any misgivings about the long-haired, hippie photographer who knocked on his door to take his daughter out, he never let me hear them, and he welcomed me with a smile.  Over the years, he was always ready to jump in to help with any project around the house. Truth be told, he was actually always willing to let me help HIM with any project around my house that needed to be done.

He taught us all what true love means by the careful way he took care of his wife in the last years of her life as dementia and sickness robbed him of her. He reminded us what real courage was as he faced his own health issues. His doctors would write him off, but he’d confound them time after time. Each time his illness knocked him down, and we prepared for the end, he came roaring back with a smile on his face.  

In recent years, Dianne and I started referring him by a new nickname. It started out on a trip to the local supermarket, when we tried to get him to use a coupon and he would not. I said “Rockefeller does not use coupons,” and from then on he was “Rocky,” a name that proved so apt as he showed ​his fighting spirit and refused to go down when it would have been the easy thing to do.  

Over the past three years, it has been my privilege to serve as his caregiver, and although he increasingly needed help,  I watched with amazement  how he maintained his dignity, good humor and independence to the very end.  While I sometimes complained about the work, I don’t begrudge any of it.

It's said you reap what you sow in life, and that’s why Pops lived his life until the very end surrounded by  love.  We will all miss him, but when we pause to remember him, we’ll be comforted with the knowledge that by the way he lived his life, there are only good memories. And then we’ll smile.  

While we feel the sorrow now, we’re also gladdened that his three grandchildren were able to spend time all together with him on Sunday, when they came to honor him on Father’s Day. I am sure that the memory of those hours and how he displayed his character to the last will stay with them as they face their own hardships in life. I’m happy that Dianne and I were there to hold his hands as he left us. While I don’t know what, if anything, lies beyond our time in the sun, I can’t help but feel  Robert Burns somehow had Pops in mind when he wrote:

An honest man here lies at rest,
As e’er God with His image blest:
The friend of man, the friend of truth;
The friend of age, and guide of youth:
If there’s another world, he lives in bliss;
If there is none, he made the best of this.
Godspeed Pops. Ann’s been waiting for you.
-John​