A missouri man on being 100, his 7 siblings who lived into their 90s and american life a century ago emoji gas station


I was the girl who stayed at grandma’s table after the others went out to play. I relished stories like grandpa’s tale of the American Indian woman who was laid to rest along the Santa Fe Trail in Kansas in an area that would become his front yard. I grew to become the young reporter electricity cost per kwh by country who covered health and senior issues for the St. Charles bureau of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Much of my professional life has been recognizing and reporting the richness of the stories older adults have to tell and the gravity of their counsel. I have covered news and features in science, medical, financial, business, and lifestyle writing for International Medical News Group IMNG (now Frontline Medical Communications), Feaststl.com, EveryDayHealth.com, HealthDay.com, StreetScape Magazine, St. Charles Business Magazine, Patch.com, St. Charles County Business Record and others. I write the stories of people’s lives, so others know they lived. Follow me on Twitter at https://twitter.com/SeatonJefferson or email me at rsjreporter@charter.net. Contact Robin Seaton Jefferson

Ken was born at home on March 7, 1919 on a small horse farm in Lincoln County, Missouri. He was the sixth of nine children—Willard, Raymond, Charlotte, Keith, Roger, Ken, James, Dorothy and Ruth. Among them would be soldiers, a minister, an electrician, a factory worker, farmers gas stoichiometry practice and others. And they would all live well into their nineties “except one brother who we don’t talk about.” Their parents—John Herman and Lottie May Paige Bruning—would live to be 98 and 99, respectively. His paternal grandmother lived to be 101. There is no Alzheimer’s disease in his family that he’s aware of and very little cancer.

He said he isn’t sure why he made it to 100, other than that he never drank alcohol or smoked (other than a short stint with some mischievous boys behind the one-room schoolhouse), and that he attended e suvidha electricity bill lucknow church every Sunday and then some. “The best answer I can say is that the Lord gave me a good body and told me to take care of it, and I have,” Ken said. “That’s the best answer I can come up with.”

But he did have a little more to add. Even at 100 years old, Ken takes great stock in being yourself and has little regard for material things. “I thank God I was born to Christian people with no money. It was certainly a good life, and you weren’t enticed to be somebody else. You could be yourself.” In fact, when asked what he considered his greatest contribution in this life, Ken said, “just being me. Being the person the Lord made me to be. It didn’t just happen. The Lord put me here.”

“We lived in a big two-story farm house with three bedrooms, and my parent’s bed was in the corner of the living room,” Ken said. “We had two boys’ bedrooms and one bedroom for the girls. Dad was always up first to build wd gaster theme a fire in the wood stove to warm the place. We dressed and undressed on the stairs going up and down. Shoes were under the stove to warm them up. It sometimes worked.”

Chores were plentiful and consisted of feeding electricity projects for 4th graders the livestock—including hogs, cows, horses and chickens, gathering eggs, milking cows and grinding corn to feed to the horses. In Winter, there was wood to be split and stored for the wood shed and wood box for the house. The cook stove was wood-fired. “We picked up corn cobs from the hog pen for easy starting,” Ken said. “We soaked them in kerosene to make starting easier. My older brothers worked at other farms and would come home during the winter and help out. My two older brothers, Raymond and Willard, were good on the cross-cut saw. They felled the trees. The younger ones and dad trimmed the trees and burnt the brush.”

Ken said going to church was just as important gas after eating eggs a responsibility, if not more so, than any of the others. “There was no time I can remember we did not go to church; we just always did,” he said. “We were five miles from church. Our transportation was horse drawn. In the winter, we had blankets over us with a kerosene lantern under them for some heat. It wasn’t much consideration about the weather, you just went to church.”

Ken attended a one-room school house called Gibson Warren County District 15 heated by a wood stove. It sat on about an acre of donated land. The school had a cistern that collected water off the roof of the building. It had a tin cup hanging gasset y ortega biografia on the side and anyone who wanted a drink would pump up the water. Ken said he and his siblings carried their lunches in one-gallon Karo syrup buckets. They often brought peanut butter and jelly, maybe an egg or bacon sandwich, all on homemade bread.

Ken was 9 years old when the family got its first car—a 1923 Ford Model T Touring Car. “My daddy never drove a car. Dad and my second oldest brother Raymond went out into the pasture to learn how to drive. Dad said whoever learns firsts will be our driver. No contest. Dad liked his horses. Brother Ray was then the designated driver for the family car. When he left home to work, brother Keith became our family driver. My turn came when brother Keith left home to work and I became the family hp gas online registration driver until I left home in 1941 when I was twenty-two.”

And some would say that’s been a good thing for a lot of people who would cross their paths. Ken and his wife, Idele McCreery Bruning, fostered at least 10 children during the course of their marriage. Idele taught art in the Fort Zumwalt School District in St. Charles County for 33 years. Ken delivered Meals on Wheels for more than two decades and was recognized for it in 2013 (at 94 years old) by Missouri’s then Lt. Gov. Peter Kinder as a Senior Service Award recipient for his work with the Warren County Senior Center. He also volunteered for years at the Agape Ministries Food Pantry and Resale Shop in Wright City gas leak chicago, Missouri.

Ken worked on his parents’ farm till he was 22 years old. Over the years, he drove a dump truck hauling fire clay, and spent about a year working with the dynamite crew and later on the railroad at what is now the Weldon Spring Site about 30 miles west of St. Louis, Missouri. Originally operated by the Atlas Powder Company during World War II to produce explosives, the Atomic Energy Commission acquired part of the property in 1955, and Mallinckrodt, Inc. processed uranium ore from 1957 to 1966. The site is now designated as a major project of the Defense Environmental Restoration Program of the United States Department of Defense, and part of the original 17,323-acre property is still used by the Army Reserve as the Weldon Spring Training Area.

“While working there with the dynamite crew, I got dynamite on my hands, wiped my face and got one heck of a headache,” Kens said. “I worked the second shift electricity wiki, in the fall, and it was hot down in those pits. When that job was done, I worked on the railroad. “They put a railroad in to pick up the ammunition that was produced there. It took sixteen men to handle each rail that we laid, and me only weighing 110 pounds, was one of those men. I worked spreading rock on the roads at the TNT plant. The last job I had there was pulling nails out of the lumber electricity cost las vegas. We saved the nails and burned the lumber, it was dumped into a big pit and the fire would burn for days. The nails were saved to be used for shrapnel.”

In February of 1943, Ken received his draft notice and the following month began his basic training in the U.S. Army at Camp Polk in Louisiana and was later stationed at Camp Kilmer in New Jersey. “Troops were quartered there in preparation for transport to the European Theater,” he said. “It became the largest processing center for troops heading overseas and returning from WWII, processing over 2.5 million soldiers, and I was one of them.”

From New Jersey, Ken would board the S.S. Marine Devil in a convoy of ships for the 12-day trip to England and Tidworth Barracks in South Hampton. “We sailed across the English Channel up the Rhine river into France. Tanks, tracks, trucks and troops marked ‘CC B 8 th Army Division’ drove onto French soil,” Ken said. “While in France and up near the Roer River when our artillery started softening up the Germans across electricity 220 volts wiring the river, they started shooting this artillery over our heads at three o’clock in the morning and continued until daylight. The Germans had bombed the bridge. We crossed the river on a pontoon bridge with balloons over the top to keep airplanes from coming in and bombing us.”

Ken would go on to serve in Holland and Czechoslovakia as WWII ravaged on. He would also see and learn about people and places that would stay with him for the rest of his life. “In Czechoslovakia, we had an Italian sergeant with us that wanted to go to his hometown to see his folks and where he was raised. The Army gave him a jeep and a driver and a permit, so they could stop at any Army unit to get something to eat and maybe stay the night. They were gone 28 days and had 26 flat tires. He was not happy with what he saw. His static electricity diagram hometown was all tore up. I believe his family was all tore up too, but I don’t have any details on that.”

Ken said he was never in active combat, though he witnessed the results as well as the reasons for it. “I was never a hero. Yes, I saw damage. I saw where there had been big equipment blown up and I saw origin electricity faults where bombs hit a railroad engine and put a hole all the way through it. I saw concentration camps and the big ovens and the sleeping quarters that were like big shelves,” he said. “But the best I can say is I was just there. I’m of the opinion that it isn’t the big things that make a difference. It’s the little things you do by being yourself. The Lord wanted me to be 100 because he sent a lot of folks my way to make sure I’d get there, and yes that is a blessing.”