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Kenneth Hamblin Obituary
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July 16, 2018

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Preview Entry
July 16, 2018

Please don't submit copyrighted work; original poems, songs or prayers welcomed. Legacy.com reviews all Guest Book entries to ensure appropriate content. Our staff does not correct grammar or spelling.

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 Memories & Condolences
This Guest Book will remain online permanently courtesy of Ginna and Wes Robinson.
March 28, 2010
Gary has known Ken since Gary's days as a welding inspector for Ron Mobley. Ken brought Gary into Cal-Trans and Ken and Dot became his good friends. Dot helped Gary buy his condo in Whittier, and later helped Gary and his wife Pauline buy their house. Always a joker, Ken told several people at our wedding that he was Gary's parole officer. (Some of them still believe it.) It isn't very often that we meet people who have consistently worked hard, been committed to family, shown kindness to all, and contributed so much to socity. God bless you Dot, and your family.
March 24, 2010
I will never forget our Uncle Bullet. Our Godparents' to be exact. Our parents are John and Wendy Richardson and Uncle Bullet and Auntie Dot were the "best friends" any two people could have asked for. For years, I had no idea his name was Ken, he was Uncle Bullet always. The last time I saw Uncle Bullet was in March of 2008 when they came up for my baby shower. He and Auntie Dot had driven up and spent the weekend with my parents, and he told me exactly where he was the day I was born. Working on the 605 freeway overpass. He had a champion memory! He met my parents in the driveway on Floral Ave. the day they brought me home from the hospital. My daughter was born 3 weeks later, and I am very sad and wish that he could have met my daughter, and wish my daughter could have met her Uncle Bullet. I am greatful for the all the memories, endless race stories I tell you, and such kindness. Good humor too. Thank you for the true, honest, friendship you have given to my parents. We miss you Uncle Bullet.
January 29, 2010
I will never forget the kindness, humor, honesty, and friendship Ken showed me and my family. I owe my career with the State to Ken, he was the deciding factor for me being hired to Caltrans some twenty years ago. He took me under his wing and was my tutor, my boss but mostly my friend. While in training we would stop for lunch and of course Ken would not let me pay however hard I tried, he would always pay for lunch with a fist full of quarters from his car wash and make the comment,"I Think I have just enough left to buy my kids some shoes". I now look back at those days and am truely thankful the Lord let me spend some of my life with Ken and his lovely wife Dot. I only wish it were more. Ken made me feel as if I were part of his family. You will truely be missed my friend.
January 3, 2010
I used to build Floats for the Rose Parade. Inside every float there are at least two people, the driver and the observer. Many times Ken would be my observer while I was the driver.
The observer would tell the driver when to stop, start,or turn, etc. all by head phone.
One New Year's morning in the late 1970's we were headed down Colorado Blvd. in a float we built for Winchells Donuts. The parade was doing its usual stop and start, and after 2 or 3 stops, Ken says, "there's a marching band in front of us and there's a tuba player in the last row whose gettin' on my nerves, every time we stop, he turns around to make sure we stopped." I said, "Don't let it bother you, there's nothing you can do about it." He says, "the next time I tell you to stop, count to three before you stop." I asked, "why?"
He said, "just do what I tell ya."
Before long he says "stop", and I go one,two, and before I can say three, He's yellin,' "lookout,everybody run, get outta the way," I yelled, "what's wrong?" and then he breaks into that infectious laugh and said,"we just scattered the last six rows of the marching band." I said, "oh great, now the parade officials are going to be mad at me." "Naw," he said, "It'll be O.K." So the parade gets back underway. The marching band gets back in position, and then he says "go." As soon as we're underway he says to me in what I can only call a quiet voice of victory, "remember the tuba player in the last row?" I said, "yeah," He said, "never got back in line..."

R.I.P....old friend.