To Heather, Calvin, Emma, Aaron, Bryan, and Cameron,
My deepest condolences to each of you as we mourn the death of your dear husband and father, H. Calvin Squires. I love him and so appreciate all that he had done for the family (ancestors, in-law’s, and posterity) his profession, the Church, humankind in general, and for his Heavenly Father and Savior, Jesus Christ. Here are a few memories which I have of this great man.
I have known him for 51 years. The first time I met him was in early July of 1970. He was finishing up his senior year at Houghton College, preparing to enter a doctoral program at the University of Rochester. I was just returning from a year of study at the University of Nottingham, England. When I left in August of 1969, your mother was dating a friend of mine and it seemed serious. So, I was surprised, at my return, when that friend was not in the “picture” and your dad had “inveigled” his way into your mother’s heart. I was a little skeptical about meeting your dad. However, it became clear to me and the rest of the Strassburgs that Heather’s new choice of boyfriends was exceptional. He was a great athlete, a cross country runner, (who finished the Boston Marathon,) a talented soccer player, a combative tennis player (he could throw his steel rimmed racquet further than anyone I had ever seen) and loved to shoot hoops. He was astute, always thinking ahead. He was helpful. He was considerate with all he associated. He was a problem solver, because he was dogged in his approach, never giving up until the task was done. His prowess at chess was much appreciated as he played the great Bobby Fischer in chess. (The only “flaw” I ever saw in him was the time he built Grandpa Strassburg a new picnic table, which he agonized over. When it was done, we discovered that the legs were at least a foot too long. Grandpa never let him forget the mistake made by the most precise of men!)
When the Genesee River flooded in 1972 and submerged most of Wellsville, your dad led a team to clean Grandma Squires’ home and basement, which was packed with silt. It was the dirtiest job ever. He never complained, he just did it. He was devoted to his mom.
During my last semester of school, I was assigned to “student teach” at Churchville Chili High School, just west of Rochester. I was poor and did not have a car. I was trying to figure out how to complete my degree. I could not hitch hike every day the 45 miles to Churchville from SUNY Geneseo. I was a befuddled. But your dad had a plan. He presented it to me and Grandpa Strassburg. He proposed that I rent a room in a home, owned by an older woman named Grannie Moore, where he lived. The house was on Mt. Hope Boulevard in Rochester. It was near the Rochester Chapel and a short walk to the University of Rochester. Cal proposed that he would either drive me to Churchville in his exceptionally beautiful Oldsmobile Cutlass Convertible or let me drive it if the weather was decent and he would walk through the huge Mt. Hope Cemetery to the U of R. He was an answer to my prayers. So, I lived with him, Granny Moore, her ferocious pet racoon, and his brother, Jim. (Jim worked in slaughter house. Cal, besides doing school, worked for French’s, the mustard and spice company.)
We attended the Rochester Ward which was presided over by Martin Siebach, a professor at Rochester Institute of Technology. We became good friends with two brothers, Bob and Kenny Hutcheson. These three spiritual men worked in the temple with me in Palmyra 40 years later. They all remembered Cal with great fondness.
When Aunt Denise and I were married in Arizona, Cal picked us up at the airport. We arrived late on a snowy December night. Cal and Heather had made us a canopy of toilet paper to sleep under on an inflatable mattress in their Clarence, NY apartment just a block off Main Street, near the Dodge dealer.
Calvin, we used to baby sit you. Aunt Denise and I could never make you happy for very long. You wanted your parents! As soon as you were in your parents arms you were happy.
Emma, one of the great experiences of my life was your marriage. What a weekend that was, as your mom and dad accommodated a boatload of guests from all over the country. They and your entire family were so gracious to all of us who invaded your home. Calvin was the best DJ I ever experienced. The music and dancing were fantastic. Cameron, you were the featured break dancer. The nuptial tennis tournament is also a memory I hold dear. Emma, I remember your dad beaming as he danced with you at the wedding.
I am grateful for the vacation recently in Sarasota. I will treasure that time with Cal and Heather.
I will miss having Cal in my life. He always lived with integrity, kindness, and love for each of us, and his Savior, Jesus.
Bruce
There is one “Cal” event that I will never forget. In the summer of 1982, the Strassburg clan gathered and as part of that gathering a professional family photo was taken. Needless to say, it took some mighty preparation to get 20 people spit-polished and looking their best for the photo. Cal came up with a plan for a car-wash type assembly line to bathe the 7 children who were to be in the photo. (Max and Cam missed out on this experience. Max was a newborn and Cam had yet to be born.) Cal took the clam top from a roof car carrier, flipped in over, and filled it with water. Presto! He had created an outdoor bathtub in Grandma and Grandpa Strassburg’s backyard. Armed with the garden hose, a bar of soap and a wash cloth, he ran each of those 7 kiddos through the wash. (I think Aunt Jen was 2nd in command) Timothy Calvin, Emma, Claire, Joel, Aaron, Beth, and Bryan were sparkly clean. If you look closely at that photo, I think you can still see a little trauma in those little faces. I’m not sure they knew what hit them. I don’t remember if I ever had the heart to tell Cal that my kids had already had a bath at home. But, when there was a job to be done, no matter how difficult, Cal came up with a plan and got it accomplished with perfection.
Not only is Cal my brother-in-law, we discovered on our visit to Sarasota with he and Heather in February, 2020, that we are distant cousins. In discussing his exciting discoveries in his family history, we realized that we have a common ancestor, George Soule, who was a passenger on the Mayflower. Every morning after that he greeted me with, “Morning Cuz.” I was truly honored to be connected to Cal that way.
To me, Cal has always been the ultimate example of honor, faithfulness, and steadiness. I know that Cal never served in the Marines, but I would not be surprised if there wasn’t a little Semper Fi, “always faithful, always loyal” written on his heart. Nothing was more important to him than his God and his family. I could see that in everything that he did. I will miss that “rock.”
Denise



Photo 1-waiting for the rebound. Miller Road, Niagara Falls, NY