James "Jim" D. Froom

There was a snowstorm in Duluth, MN the night I was born. When nature declared that January 11 was to be my birthday, my father, a bus driver, was stuck in a snowbank at the end of his bus route. Left to her own resources to get to the hospital, my mother bundled up in my father's long underwear and hopped on one of the few buses still in service. She made it to the hospital, but never made it to the delivery room. I was born on the elevator (and I’ve been going up ever since.)

My mother taught me that a good time was one of life’s necessities. Our house was always open for company. The coffee pot was ready, usually with something sweet to go with the coffee. Most chores could be postponed in order to answer the call of the playing cards resting on the kitchen table.

My father taught me that you don’t have to have a formal education to be intellectually curious. Having arrived in the United States from Sweden at 19 years of age, he was soon sufficiently proficient in English to write some compelling poetry, He was a student of global politics, and political events were often the topic of his poetry.

My childhood was marked by several compelling events. My father died at his own hand when I was seven. This left me totally bewildered as I couldn’t reconcile his choice with the fact I knew for certain he loved me. Then I got sick, an ailment that took several years and a total of three prolonged hospital stays to properly diagnose as juvenile rheumatoid arthritis.

Among the many ways being sick impacted my life were the disruptions to my education. While the hospital school was invigorating and my view of the world broadened, the disruptions caused by hospital admissions and discharges totaling 11/2 years left me with holes in my learning. Holes not always filled at St. Jean Baptiste, the small parish school I attended at home. St. Jean’s claim to fame was its secretarial program which did not prepare me for my college curriculum choices, a chemistry major and a math minor. It’s a minor miracle that I went on to earn a bachelor’s degree from the University of Minnesota-Duluth and a master’s degree from South Dekota State University. I also acquired several life-long friends from both the hospital and my parish school.

Between undergrad and grad school I married. We moved from Minnesota to Brookings, South Dakota for grad school, then on to Kankakee, Illinois for a job. And then on to Kalamazoo for a career position with Upjohn.

My first marriage ended sadly but also was the giver of the greatest gifts--Becky, Pam and Ed. And five years after my divorce I met Sharon and her daughter Kate. With our marriage we became a family of six, which has now blossomed into a family of 26, counting children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, in-laws and life partners. My relationships with these dear family members have been the most challenging and important of all my relationships. Hopefully I have earned forgiveness for earlier mistakes and acknowledgement of the things I learned along the way.

Home and family have provided a solid base for a rich life. My career with the Upjohn Company provided a secure income, stimulating work and an opportunity for international travel. I have enjoyed many hobbies along the way-traveling with Sharon, collecting stamps and coins, and woodworking among them.

In adolescence I started to fret about how I would make a living. My body would not tolerate most of the careers of the men close to me. I was sufficiently anxious about this to take it to prayer. I was assured that if I was generous with the poor I would never have a money problem. I’ve done my best to hold up my end of this agreement. Participating in politics and social justice causes has been important to me. Dental care for the severely physically impaired, an artist cooperative for people with disabilities, and a toilet paper ministry for the poor have been favorite projects. These causes, coupled with love of family, are the tangible manifestations of what I believe I was called to do. We are called to love one another. My greatest joy is to see my grandchildren, each in his/her own way, choose to honor this directive.

James Froom, Age 89, of Kalamazoo died peacefully at his home on October 5. James was born January 11, 1935, in Deluth, Minnesota, the son of Gustaf and Loretta (Arseneau) Froom. He was preceded in death by his 4 siblings: Jack Froom, Lorraine Johnston, Lois Ryker, and Harold Froom. Members of his family include his wife, Sharon; his 4 children: Becky (Randy) Holt, Pam (Randy) Whitcomb, Edward Froom, and Kate (Dave) Perez; 11 grandchildren; 3 great-grandchildren; and many nieces and nephews.

A celebration of Jim's life will be held on Friday, October 11 at St.Thomas More Catholic Student Parish, 421 Monroe Street. Visitation with the family will begin at 10:30. A funeral service will begin at 11:15 am and a luncheon will follow in the church hall. Burial will follow at Hill Cemetery, Oshtemo Township. Celebrate Jim's life online by sharing your favorite stories and photos on his dedicated webpage at BetzlerLifeStory.com. Memorial contributions may be made to St. Thomas More's Toilet Paper Ministry, a ministry initiated by Jim after he learned that the poor often must choose between food and paper necessities when they use food banks. Make checks to St. Thomas More with Toilet Paper Ministry noted on the memo line. Betzler Life Story Funeral Homes, 6080 Stadium Drive, Kalamazoo (269) 375-2900.