JULIA ANN LaFOLLETTE, 59, of South Bend, passed away at her home Sunday, April 25, 2004, after a long battle with lung disease. Julie was born Jan. 14, 1945, in Adams County Hospital in Decatur, the daughter of James E. and Ruth E. (Montgomery) Sprunger, who preceded her in death. Julie was a 1963 graduate of Berne-French High School and continued her education at Ball State University in Muncie, and University of Notre Dame, where she was a Web Communications Support Specialist for the past three and a half years. She had previously held a similar position at Crown International and had taught at Lakeland High School in LaGrange.
Julie had a unique passion and creativity that she shared with those she knew. Before moving to South Bend from Dunlap (near Elkhart) in October 2002, Julie maintained a habitat for one of her greatest passions, bluebirds, which came from a love and reverence for nature. She was a photographer of great talent and beautifully captured many images of nature, her pets and the Notre Dame campus. She loved music, especially "mellow jazz," and deeply loved her family. She also wrote beautiful, sensitive poetry.
Julie was survived by her three sons, Benjamin LaFollette and his wife, Loree, of Elkhart, Bradley LaFollette of Indianapolis, and Bryan LaFollette and Kelly Wheelan of Valparaiso; brother, James "Fritz" Sprunger; and sister, Rebecca J. Sprunger, both of Berne. Funeral service was 1 p.m. Friday, April 30, at the First Mennonite Church Chapel, in Berne, with visitation from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Yager Kirchhofer Funeral Home, 365 W. Main St., in Berne. Visitation was also from 3 to 6 p.m. Thursday, April 29, at McGann Funeral Home, 2313 E. Edison Road, in South Bend. Memorial contributions were to the American Lung Association.
Julie's love for her bluebirds was expressed in the following item she posted on an internet bluebird site on January 29, 2000, describing one of her fledglings:
"It was getting exciting as occasionally, a little head would appear, just barely able to peek out the hole. Knowing how the box was designed, I realized that at least one of these little fellows was probably serving as a stepladder for the others. Of course, it was a handy little evolutionary thing, as it was proven over and over that the "tallest bird gets the worm" ...however they got there! Like rambunctious teenagers, one by one, they would bob up to the hole, peer out at the strange world around them and retreat once again to the crowded little 5 1/2-inch dark dance floor.
"No going into work this day. I had already forewarned my associates, that should this day arrive and I was aware of it, I would be coming in late because I desired to witness something I'd waited twenty years to see. Each time they approached the opening, I realized I was about to witness a miracle. I imagined the excitement among them.
"Mom called "I'm a pretty bluebird," in a soft voice. I could hear them calling back to their mother...a small sounding little "I'm here." And suddenly, the drama began. One little fellow got up the courage and poked his head out totally. Now what I saw next I will never forget, and it will always inspire me whenever I am about to lean on my own understanding. Mind you, these little birds do not get to take flying lessons. They do NOT jump out of the box and practice flying around from a low perch or from the grass.
"No, the little creature simply and courageously somehow, miraculously, left that box and took off, like it knew where it was going, and soared some 80 feet up into the air to land high in a treetop! And one by one, three others repeated the spectacle until, at last, the little guy who was the runt, and the one they obviously had stood upon on their way up, was left alone in the box. It was truly a timid little, plaintive cry, "I'm here, I'm here." Obviously, it hadn't had the practice of the others and was left entirely to his own resources.
"The entire night, it must have been aware of its new circumstances with all that freedom and yet imprisoned alone in that now large space. But miracles repeat themselves, and the perfection of the cycles was carried out, as by morning, it had learned how to climb up the inside of the box, and by the time I went out to check the box, it, too had fledged safely. And this, my friends, is just one story of many little inspirations these birds have provided me and many others. It is only one example of why these birds are so well-loved to the point that grown men gush over the things to be witnessed when one looks deeply, listens intently, and waits upon the fulfillment of time."
Julie had a unique passion and creativity that she shared with those she knew. Before moving to South Bend from Dunlap (near Elkhart) in October 2002, Julie maintained a habitat for one of her greatest passions, bluebirds, which came from a love and reverence for nature. She was a photographer of great talent and beautifully captured many images of nature, her pets and the Notre Dame campus. She loved music, especially "mellow jazz," and deeply loved her family. She also wrote beautiful, sensitive poetry.
Julie was survived by her three sons, Benjamin LaFollette and his wife, Loree, of Elkhart, Bradley LaFollette of Indianapolis, and Bryan LaFollette and Kelly Wheelan of Valparaiso; brother, James "Fritz" Sprunger; and sister, Rebecca J. Sprunger, both of Berne. Funeral service was 1 p.m. Friday, April 30, at the First Mennonite Church Chapel, in Berne, with visitation from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Yager Kirchhofer Funeral Home, 365 W. Main St., in Berne. Visitation was also from 3 to 6 p.m. Thursday, April 29, at McGann Funeral Home, 2313 E. Edison Road, in South Bend. Memorial contributions were to the American Lung Association.
Julie's love for her bluebirds was expressed in the following item she posted on an internet bluebird site on January 29, 2000, describing one of her fledglings:
"It was getting exciting as occasionally, a little head would appear, just barely able to peek out the hole. Knowing how the box was designed, I realized that at least one of these little fellows was probably serving as a stepladder for the others. Of course, it was a handy little evolutionary thing, as it was proven over and over that the "tallest bird gets the worm" ...however they got there! Like rambunctious teenagers, one by one, they would bob up to the hole, peer out at the strange world around them and retreat once again to the crowded little 5 1/2-inch dark dance floor.
"No going into work this day. I had already forewarned my associates, that should this day arrive and I was aware of it, I would be coming in late because I desired to witness something I'd waited twenty years to see. Each time they approached the opening, I realized I was about to witness a miracle. I imagined the excitement among them.
"Mom called "I'm a pretty bluebird," in a soft voice. I could hear them calling back to their mother...a small sounding little "I'm here." And suddenly, the drama began. One little fellow got up the courage and poked his head out totally. Now what I saw next I will never forget, and it will always inspire me whenever I am about to lean on my own understanding. Mind you, these little birds do not get to take flying lessons. They do NOT jump out of the box and practice flying around from a low perch or from the grass.
"No, the little creature simply and courageously somehow, miraculously, left that box and took off, like it knew where it was going, and soared some 80 feet up into the air to land high in a treetop! And one by one, three others repeated the spectacle until, at last, the little guy who was the runt, and the one they obviously had stood upon on their way up, was left alone in the box. It was truly a timid little, plaintive cry, "I'm here, I'm here." Obviously, it hadn't had the practice of the others and was left entirely to his own resources.
"The entire night, it must have been aware of its new circumstances with all that freedom and yet imprisoned alone in that now large space. But miracles repeat themselves, and the perfection of the cycles was carried out, as by morning, it had learned how to climb up the inside of the box, and by the time I went out to check the box, it, too had fledged safely. And this, my friends, is just one story of many little inspirations these birds have provided me and many others. It is only one example of why these birds are so well-loved to the point that grown men gush over the things to be witnessed when one looks deeply, listens intently, and waits upon the fulfillment of time."
JULIA ANN LaFOLLETTE, 59, of South Bend, passed away at her home Sunday, April 25, 2004, after a long battle with lung disease. Julie was born Jan. 14, 1945, in Adams County Hospital in Decatur, the daughter of James E. and Ruth E. (Montgomery) Sprunger, who preceded her in death. Julie was a 1963 graduate of Berne-French High School and continued her education at Ball State University in Muncie, and University of Notre Dame, where she was a Web Communications Support Specialist for the past three and a half years. She had previously held a similar position at Crown International and had taught at Lakeland High School in LaGrange.
Julie had a unique passion and creativity that she shared with those she knew. Before moving to South Bend from Dunlap (near Elkhart) in October 2002, Julie maintained a habitat for one of her greatest passions, bluebirds, which came from a love and reverence for nature. She was a photographer of great talent and beautifully captured many images of nature, her pets and the Notre Dame campus. She loved music, especially "mellow jazz," and deeply loved her family. She also wrote beautiful, sensitive poetry.
Julie was survived by her three sons, Benjamin LaFollette and his wife, Loree, of Elkhart, Bradley LaFollette of Indianapolis, and Bryan LaFollette and Kelly Wheelan of Valparaiso; brother, James "Fritz" Sprunger; and sister, Rebecca J. Sprunger, both of Berne. Funeral service was 1 p.m. Friday, April 30, at the First Mennonite Church Chapel, in Berne, with visitation from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Yager Kirchhofer Funeral Home, 365 W. Main St., in Berne. Visitation was also from 3 to 6 p.m. Thursday, April 29, at McGann Funeral Home, 2313 E. Edison Road, in South Bend. Memorial contributions were to the American Lung Association.
Julie's love for her bluebirds was expressed in the following item she posted on an internet bluebird site on January 29, 2000, describing one of her fledglings:
"It was getting exciting as occasionally, a little head would appear, just barely able to peek out the hole. Knowing how the box was designed, I realized that at least one of these little fellows was probably serving as a stepladder for the others. Of course, it was a handy little evolutionary thing, as it was proven over and over that the "tallest bird gets the worm" ...however they got there! Like rambunctious teenagers, one by one, they would bob up to the hole, peer out at the strange world around them and retreat once again to the crowded little 5 1/2-inch dark dance floor.
"No going into work this day. I had already forewarned my associates, that should this day arrive and I was aware of it, I would be coming in late because I desired to witness something I'd waited twenty years to see. Each time they approached the opening, I realized I was about to witness a miracle. I imagined the excitement among them.
"Mom called "I'm a pretty bluebird," in a soft voice. I could hear them calling back to their mother...a small sounding little "I'm here." And suddenly, the drama began. One little fellow got up the courage and poked his head out totally. Now what I saw next I will never forget, and it will always inspire me whenever I am about to lean on my own understanding. Mind you, these little birds do not get to take flying lessons. They do NOT jump out of the box and practice flying around from a low perch or from the grass.
"No, the little creature simply and courageously somehow, miraculously, left that box and took off, like it knew where it was going, and soared some 80 feet up into the air to land high in a treetop! And one by one, three others repeated the spectacle until, at last, the little guy who was the runt, and the one they obviously had stood upon on their way up, was left alone in the box. It was truly a timid little, plaintive cry, "I'm here, I'm here." Obviously, it hadn't had the practice of the others and was left entirely to his own resources.
"The entire night, it must have been aware of its new circumstances with all that freedom and yet imprisoned alone in that now large space. But miracles repeat themselves, and the perfection of the cycles was carried out, as by morning, it had learned how to climb up the inside of the box, and by the time I went out to check the box, it, too had fledged safely. And this, my friends, is just one story of many little inspirations these birds have provided me and many others. It is only one example of why these birds are so well-loved to the point that grown men gush over the things to be witnessed when one looks deeply, listens intently, and waits upon the fulfillment of time."
Julie had a unique passion and creativity that she shared with those she knew. Before moving to South Bend from Dunlap (near Elkhart) in October 2002, Julie maintained a habitat for one of her greatest passions, bluebirds, which came from a love and reverence for nature. She was a photographer of great talent and beautifully captured many images of nature, her pets and the Notre Dame campus. She loved music, especially "mellow jazz," and deeply loved her family. She also wrote beautiful, sensitive poetry.
Julie was survived by her three sons, Benjamin LaFollette and his wife, Loree, of Elkhart, Bradley LaFollette of Indianapolis, and Bryan LaFollette and Kelly Wheelan of Valparaiso; brother, James "Fritz" Sprunger; and sister, Rebecca J. Sprunger, both of Berne. Funeral service was 1 p.m. Friday, April 30, at the First Mennonite Church Chapel, in Berne, with visitation from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Yager Kirchhofer Funeral Home, 365 W. Main St., in Berne. Visitation was also from 3 to 6 p.m. Thursday, April 29, at McGann Funeral Home, 2313 E. Edison Road, in South Bend. Memorial contributions were to the American Lung Association.
Julie's love for her bluebirds was expressed in the following item she posted on an internet bluebird site on January 29, 2000, describing one of her fledglings:
"It was getting exciting as occasionally, a little head would appear, just barely able to peek out the hole. Knowing how the box was designed, I realized that at least one of these little fellows was probably serving as a stepladder for the others. Of course, it was a handy little evolutionary thing, as it was proven over and over that the "tallest bird gets the worm" ...however they got there! Like rambunctious teenagers, one by one, they would bob up to the hole, peer out at the strange world around them and retreat once again to the crowded little 5 1/2-inch dark dance floor.
"No going into work this day. I had already forewarned my associates, that should this day arrive and I was aware of it, I would be coming in late because I desired to witness something I'd waited twenty years to see. Each time they approached the opening, I realized I was about to witness a miracle. I imagined the excitement among them.
"Mom called "I'm a pretty bluebird," in a soft voice. I could hear them calling back to their mother...a small sounding little "I'm here." And suddenly, the drama began. One little fellow got up the courage and poked his head out totally. Now what I saw next I will never forget, and it will always inspire me whenever I am about to lean on my own understanding. Mind you, these little birds do not get to take flying lessons. They do NOT jump out of the box and practice flying around from a low perch or from the grass.
"No, the little creature simply and courageously somehow, miraculously, left that box and took off, like it knew where it was going, and soared some 80 feet up into the air to land high in a treetop! And one by one, three others repeated the spectacle until, at last, the little guy who was the runt, and the one they obviously had stood upon on their way up, was left alone in the box. It was truly a timid little, plaintive cry, "I'm here, I'm here." Obviously, it hadn't had the practice of the others and was left entirely to his own resources.
"The entire night, it must have been aware of its new circumstances with all that freedom and yet imprisoned alone in that now large space. But miracles repeat themselves, and the perfection of the cycles was carried out, as by morning, it had learned how to climb up the inside of the box, and by the time I went out to check the box, it, too had fledged safely. And this, my friends, is just one story of many little inspirations these birds have provided me and many others. It is only one example of why these birds are so well-loved to the point that grown men gush over the things to be witnessed when one looks deeply, listens intently, and waits upon the fulfillment of time."
Family Members
See more LaFollette or Sprunger memorials in:
- MRE Cemetery LaFollette or Sprunger
- Berne LaFollette or Sprunger
- Adams County LaFollette or Sprunger
- Indiana LaFollette or Sprunger
- USA LaFollette or Sprunger
- Find a Grave LaFollette or Sprunger
