Harold Horine

My Uncle Harold will always be a part of my memories. I was only 9 when he died and I don't remember much, but I always remember going to their house as a child and playing, and knowing he was a great man.

I never had the privileged of meeting Uncle Harold, he died before I was born. My mother (Marva Horine) gave me the honor of carrying his first name as my middle name. I have passed on the same honor to my son, Caje Harold Stroman, born on August 14, 2009. I would love to see any more pictures if anyone has them. Thanks for sharing your memories.

Thanks for sharing a wonderful tribute.

When I think of my dad I think of how close we all were growing up. He would never let us go to bed mad at each other and I remember laying in bed yelling out to my dad, mom and sisters that I loved them and they all did the same. It always reminded me of that show The Walton's, but it made me feel safe and loved in our tiny little home. If us girls fought he would make us kiss and make up (even though at the time that felt like a punishment he wanted us to be close). Our vacations were filled with trips with friends to Glamis, Pismo Beach and Buttercup. He loved his yellow jeep he built and I was so proud of him, he loved being a cop and he loved his family. He was so playful, always wrestling with his nephews or handcuffing us to the fence as a joke or playing some other practical joke. He was loved by all and our lives were never the same after he was taken from us. I miss him daily.

my grammmpy<3 if only i could have met you but i am blessed enough to be left with the amazing memories of how great of a man you were. love you.

This occured 4 days after my 8th birthday. I love hearing stories about my father since my memories are so few but the ones I do remember are beautiful.