Edwin grew up on a farm south of Waller, TX where his father farmed corn, cotton, peanuts, watermelons and raised some cattle. Upon graduating from Waller High School in 1949 he started farming on his own. In 1951, he entered the Army serving in the 40th Infantry Division on Heartbreak Ridge in the Korean War. After returning home from his tour of duty, he started working for the Texas Highway Department (now the Texas Department of Transportation) at Hempstead. He transferred to Brookshire then Rosenberg. While in Rosenberg he attended Blinn Junior College at night, graduated, then transferred to Houston in the Permit Department where he retired after 30 years of service. After retirement he headed the family truck escort business and fulfilled his dream of seeing the country over back roads. He and Betty traveled together across the United States and vacationed on the way home. They got to see the country from a different view than most people ever have a chance to.
Edwin was buird in Field Store Cemetery in Waller County, Texas next to his wife, Betty.
Edwin lived to be 65 years, 8 months and 11 days old.
Submitted by J. B. Haney, my brother-in-law.
******************************
Edwin Pete Rochen, my dad, was a kind and easy going man. In my earliest memories, he was always helping someone else and would give you the shirt off his back. He was very patient and was the parent my brother and I asked for on the phone if something was wrong. Dad could usually be counted on to be level headed.
My dad loved me and my brother very much and was supportive of whatever we wanted to do. I always remember him saying, "I don't care if you decide to become a ditch digger when you grow up, just be sure you're the best ditch digger there is and I'll be proud of you." He and my mom were always working so that they could pay for violin lessons, piano lessons, guitar lessons, or whatever else we needed or wanted. They always put me and my brother first before their wants or needs.
Dad loved my mom (Betty Jo Haney) with all of his heart. Whenever my mother was traveling without him, he would pull out a map caculate how long it would be before she returned. He was usually right on the mark, just about to the hour of her arrival home! After my mother died he missed her desperately. He passed away only three years after my mom did and was only 65 years old. Sometimes I think he died of a broken heart.
My cousin, Debra Claire McCart-Rogers wrote a poem which was read to us after his funeral, I'm entering it below. This pretty much sums up my dad.
Submitted by Sharlene A. Rochen
******************************
Snapshots of a Home Grown Hero
A shock of snowy white hair that never looked too long,
Crystal blue eyes that sparkled with every new joke,
Cherry red skin that told of a life spent outdoors,
Farmers' rough hands that were never idle.
Plaid shirts, work boots and pick up trucks my remind you of his looks, but he was so much more...
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a brave American because of the Korean jacket hid in the back of his closet.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a fantastic uncle because he wouldn't take a dime for fixing my car on the 610 loop at midnight or moving a sofa bed up two flights of stairs.
Even thought we never talked about it, I knew he was a precious brother-in-law because he never said a word when he was asked to move the fence post over 10" - after the concrete had already set.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a wonderful father because he never had anything but praise for the two greatest, most talented kids in the whole world--his.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a Good Samaritan because he didn't rest until a homeless man he met had food & work & pride and a friend.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was an angel on this Earth who's gone home to his garden in Heaven.
Debra Claire McCart
Edwin was buird in Field Store Cemetery in Waller County, Texas next to his wife, Betty.
Edwin lived to be 65 years, 8 months and 11 days old.
Submitted by J. B. Haney, my brother-in-law.
******************************
Edwin Pete Rochen, my dad, was a kind and easy going man. In my earliest memories, he was always helping someone else and would give you the shirt off his back. He was very patient and was the parent my brother and I asked for on the phone if something was wrong. Dad could usually be counted on to be level headed.
My dad loved me and my brother very much and was supportive of whatever we wanted to do. I always remember him saying, "I don't care if you decide to become a ditch digger when you grow up, just be sure you're the best ditch digger there is and I'll be proud of you." He and my mom were always working so that they could pay for violin lessons, piano lessons, guitar lessons, or whatever else we needed or wanted. They always put me and my brother first before their wants or needs.
Dad loved my mom (Betty Jo Haney) with all of his heart. Whenever my mother was traveling without him, he would pull out a map caculate how long it would be before she returned. He was usually right on the mark, just about to the hour of her arrival home! After my mother died he missed her desperately. He passed away only three years after my mom did and was only 65 years old. Sometimes I think he died of a broken heart.
My cousin, Debra Claire McCart-Rogers wrote a poem which was read to us after his funeral, I'm entering it below. This pretty much sums up my dad.
Submitted by Sharlene A. Rochen
******************************
Snapshots of a Home Grown Hero
A shock of snowy white hair that never looked too long,
Crystal blue eyes that sparkled with every new joke,
Cherry red skin that told of a life spent outdoors,
Farmers' rough hands that were never idle.
Plaid shirts, work boots and pick up trucks my remind you of his looks, but he was so much more...
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a brave American because of the Korean jacket hid in the back of his closet.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a fantastic uncle because he wouldn't take a dime for fixing my car on the 610 loop at midnight or moving a sofa bed up two flights of stairs.
Even thought we never talked about it, I knew he was a precious brother-in-law because he never said a word when he was asked to move the fence post over 10" - after the concrete had already set.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a wonderful father because he never had anything but praise for the two greatest, most talented kids in the whole world--his.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a Good Samaritan because he didn't rest until a homeless man he met had food & work & pride and a friend.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was an angel on this Earth who's gone home to his garden in Heaven.
Debra Claire McCart
Edwin grew up on a farm south of Waller, TX where his father farmed corn, cotton, peanuts, watermelons and raised some cattle. Upon graduating from Waller High School in 1949 he started farming on his own. In 1951, he entered the Army serving in the 40th Infantry Division on Heartbreak Ridge in the Korean War. After returning home from his tour of duty, he started working for the Texas Highway Department (now the Texas Department of Transportation) at Hempstead. He transferred to Brookshire then Rosenberg. While in Rosenberg he attended Blinn Junior College at night, graduated, then transferred to Houston in the Permit Department where he retired after 30 years of service. After retirement he headed the family truck escort business and fulfilled his dream of seeing the country over back roads. He and Betty traveled together across the United States and vacationed on the way home. They got to see the country from a different view than most people ever have a chance to.
Edwin was buird in Field Store Cemetery in Waller County, Texas next to his wife, Betty.
Edwin lived to be 65 years, 8 months and 11 days old.
Submitted by J. B. Haney, my brother-in-law.
******************************
Edwin Pete Rochen, my dad, was a kind and easy going man. In my earliest memories, he was always helping someone else and would give you the shirt off his back. He was very patient and was the parent my brother and I asked for on the phone if something was wrong. Dad could usually be counted on to be level headed.
My dad loved me and my brother very much and was supportive of whatever we wanted to do. I always remember him saying, "I don't care if you decide to become a ditch digger when you grow up, just be sure you're the best ditch digger there is and I'll be proud of you." He and my mom were always working so that they could pay for violin lessons, piano lessons, guitar lessons, or whatever else we needed or wanted. They always put me and my brother first before their wants or needs.
Dad loved my mom (Betty Jo Haney) with all of his heart. Whenever my mother was traveling without him, he would pull out a map caculate how long it would be before she returned. He was usually right on the mark, just about to the hour of her arrival home! After my mother died he missed her desperately. He passed away only three years after my mom did and was only 65 years old. Sometimes I think he died of a broken heart.
My cousin, Debra Claire McCart-Rogers wrote a poem which was read to us after his funeral, I'm entering it below. This pretty much sums up my dad.
Submitted by Sharlene A. Rochen
******************************
Snapshots of a Home Grown Hero
A shock of snowy white hair that never looked too long,
Crystal blue eyes that sparkled with every new joke,
Cherry red skin that told of a life spent outdoors,
Farmers' rough hands that were never idle.
Plaid shirts, work boots and pick up trucks my remind you of his looks, but he was so much more...
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a brave American because of the Korean jacket hid in the back of his closet.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a fantastic uncle because he wouldn't take a dime for fixing my car on the 610 loop at midnight or moving a sofa bed up two flights of stairs.
Even thought we never talked about it, I knew he was a precious brother-in-law because he never said a word when he was asked to move the fence post over 10" - after the concrete had already set.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a wonderful father because he never had anything but praise for the two greatest, most talented kids in the whole world--his.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a Good Samaritan because he didn't rest until a homeless man he met had food & work & pride and a friend.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was an angel on this Earth who's gone home to his garden in Heaven.
Debra Claire McCart
Edwin was buird in Field Store Cemetery in Waller County, Texas next to his wife, Betty.
Edwin lived to be 65 years, 8 months and 11 days old.
Submitted by J. B. Haney, my brother-in-law.
******************************
Edwin Pete Rochen, my dad, was a kind and easy going man. In my earliest memories, he was always helping someone else and would give you the shirt off his back. He was very patient and was the parent my brother and I asked for on the phone if something was wrong. Dad could usually be counted on to be level headed.
My dad loved me and my brother very much and was supportive of whatever we wanted to do. I always remember him saying, "I don't care if you decide to become a ditch digger when you grow up, just be sure you're the best ditch digger there is and I'll be proud of you." He and my mom were always working so that they could pay for violin lessons, piano lessons, guitar lessons, or whatever else we needed or wanted. They always put me and my brother first before their wants or needs.
Dad loved my mom (Betty Jo Haney) with all of his heart. Whenever my mother was traveling without him, he would pull out a map caculate how long it would be before she returned. He was usually right on the mark, just about to the hour of her arrival home! After my mother died he missed her desperately. He passed away only three years after my mom did and was only 65 years old. Sometimes I think he died of a broken heart.
My cousin, Debra Claire McCart-Rogers wrote a poem which was read to us after his funeral, I'm entering it below. This pretty much sums up my dad.
Submitted by Sharlene A. Rochen
******************************
Snapshots of a Home Grown Hero
A shock of snowy white hair that never looked too long,
Crystal blue eyes that sparkled with every new joke,
Cherry red skin that told of a life spent outdoors,
Farmers' rough hands that were never idle.
Plaid shirts, work boots and pick up trucks my remind you of his looks, but he was so much more...
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a brave American because of the Korean jacket hid in the back of his closet.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a fantastic uncle because he wouldn't take a dime for fixing my car on the 610 loop at midnight or moving a sofa bed up two flights of stairs.
Even thought we never talked about it, I knew he was a precious brother-in-law because he never said a word when he was asked to move the fence post over 10" - after the concrete had already set.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a wonderful father because he never had anything but praise for the two greatest, most talented kids in the whole world--his.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was a Good Samaritan because he didn't rest until a homeless man he met had food & work & pride and a friend.
Even though we never talked about it, I knew he was an angel on this Earth who's gone home to his garden in Heaven.
Debra Claire McCart
Bio by: James Haney
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