Chris Edward Olson

Chris Edward Olson died on June 16th, 2015 at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland. But that part isn’t important. Before that, he lived. Born in Appleton, Wisconsin on May 18th, 1948, he was the second of four sons born to Alice Olson Carper and Harold William Olson. Despite various trials and tribulations that would have put lesser men down, he and his family moved to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, where he survived childhood and graduated from Central Dauphin High School. After school, he joined the Navy, drawn to them because of his love of ships and all things nautical. Unfortunately, as these things happen, he never got to serve on a ship. Three tours in Vietnam were instead spent working on helicopters, and after he returned, he took up a career in sheet metal and HVAC. When he was twenty-three years old, he met his wife, Sheri, who conveniently resided in the same neighborhood as him. After several months of dating, an over-the-phone wedding proposal led to their marriage on May 20th, 1972. Children, as they often do, followed, but not without a measure of heartache. Their first daughter, Sonja, died soon after birth. But they were blessed the next year with a son, Eric, in 1974. After Chris moved his family to Liverpool, Pennsylvania, a second daughter, Quenby, arrived in 1980. Settled in his new rural home, Chris enjoyed all of his favorite hobbies, from hunting and fishing, to building model airplanes, running, doing donuts in whichever four-wheel-drive vehicle he owned at the time, and simply enjoying the several acres of land he owned—several acres that afforded one of the finest views in Perry County, at least according to everyone who saw it. The years continued to slip by. Chris filled even more of his time by playing acoustic guitar for his church’s worship services, and becoming a member of the Vietnam Vets Motorcycle Club, of which he was a lifelong member and served as the president and chaplain of his chapter successively, and finally as the club’s state chaplain, a position he held until his death. Of course, because he didn't already tackle so many other things, he also enjoyed working with model trains, archery, hiking, and tinkering with his motorcycles when they didn’t start. Which could be a fairly frequent occurrence. And when he had a few other free moments, he became a member of many local organizations, including the American Legion and the VFW. And all of this was done before he even added the title of “Grandfather” to his name. Then, a man who could lift a cast iron wood stove single-handedly, who hunted wild boars with nothing but a bow and arrow, who scoffed at falling two stories (and breaking his back) or wrecking his Harley Davidson (and breaking his bike) suddenly became a master at changing diapers, calming colicky babies, and enduring endless marathons of Thomas the Tank Engine. He showed his oldest grandson how to shoot, took one of his granddaughters on her first fishing trip, and in the last days of his life, looked forward to setting up archery targets and planned summer camping “trips” for them in the backyard. After all of this, it is important to say that he was not a perfect man. He was often stubborn and impatient, and occasionally selfish when the mood struck him. However, he was human, so it went with the territory. But at the end of everything, he loved and he was loved, most of all by those he left behind: his mother, Alice; his five brothers, James, Gary, Scott, Tom, and Wally and their families; his sister, Deb Cernugel and her family; his wife of forty-three years, Sheri; his two children, Eric and Quenby; and all six of his grandchildren. And most importantly of all, he lived. And he still lives, forever and ever… until we meet again. Visitation will be on Monday, June 22, 2015 from 11am to 12 noon and a funeral service to begin at 12 noon at Jesse H. Geigle Funeral Home, Harrisburg. Burial will follow the service at Indiantown Gap National Cemetery.