Catherine Ann "Shwery" Stenzel

Catherine Ann Stenzel, neê Shwery, was born September 23, 1950, to Roy and Lois Shwery of Marshfield, Wisconsin. Catherine was joined later in life by her brother, Paul. Catherine passed peacefully in the arms of her husband, Joe Stenzel, and with her arms around her beloved dogs, Willa and Sancho, in her Beltrami Island State Forest home on March 18, 2026. Catherine is also survived by her Wisconsin cousins, Vicki, Sandi, Lisa, Gary, Tony, her niece, Alison, and her nephew, Dane.

Some of Catherine's fondest childhood memories were of her time with her father at the Roy Shwery Field, the Marshfield Municipal Airport named after her father, where Roy developed the first airline serving Wisconsin. Besides helping her father, Catherine made her first solo flight at the age of 16 years, well before she obtained her driver's license.

After obtaining her Master of Science in Teaching degree, Catherine began what she later described as her most enjoyable profession as English teacher in the Marshfield School System. Never one to avoid controversy, Catherine's literature curriculum included books about the Viet Nam conflict, challenging her students to understand and develop critical thinking as part of their educational process.

After moving to San Diego with her first husband, Christopher Ball, Catherine decided to change course and attend business school, subsequently taking and passing all three sections of the Certified Public Accountant Exam in one session on her first attempt. Catherine then began a wide-ranging career as a Chief Financial Officer for companies that included Buck Knives, Pricewaterhouse-Coopers, and the University of Minnesota's Carlson School of Management. Some of Catherine's favorite stories were about the craftpersons on the line at Buck Knives, from whom she collected an amazing set of knives. Catherine was also a keynote speaker for the American Institute of CPA's 2003 Annual Conference, The Heroic CFO. Catherine also wrote three books published by John Wiley & Sons: Essentials of Cost Management, The CFO Survival Guide, and From Cost to Performance Management.

Ever the dog-lover, Catherine would want her many pups mentioned: Jesse, Sabre, Zev, Reka, and Willa – her German Shepherds, as well as Bob and Sancho, her Shelties.

Among Catherine's most valued relationships were those of her martial arts communities. Catherine earned a black belt in Iaido, a Japanese martial art that emphasizes being aware and capable of quickly drawing the sword and responding to sudden attacks. Catherine also practiced Aikido, "the way of unifying life energy", developed by Morihei Ueshiba as a synthesis of his martial studies, philosophical, and religious beliefs. Catherine earned a third-degree black belt in Aikido, and she opened her own dojo in Warroad after moving to Roseau County in 1999.

Her Aikido and writing practices eventually lead to a writing relationship with Zenko Okimura Shihan, a samurai descendant born in post-WWII Japan, whose introduction to Aikido began when he was nine years old. Okimura Shihan trained at the prestigious Koyasan Buddhist Monastery – founded in the 9th century – where he was ordained and assigned to head a Temple in Yamaguchi

Prefecture. In the US, he continued to serve as a priest, and he founded a worldwide federation of US Aikido dojos. As a seventh-degree black belt, an Aikido Master Teacher, he instructed across the US and internationally. Okimura Shihan asked Catherine to help him write his autobiography, which Catherine was able to finish just before her death.

Ever the poet, Catherine continued to write as long as she was able, and to the very end she participated in several online poetry writer communities. Her epic poem, The One, is published in serial form with her other most important writing community – the contributors to Wannaskan Almanac, a daily blog published continuously since January 2018. Here is a poem she wrote for her doctor.

Any Dead Woman

by Catherine Stenzel

For Dr. Bob

Any dead woman will tell you

it's not easy to crawl back over the bar

one side all marigolds and lullabies

one side chrysanthemums and requiems

The Boatman's calloused hand brushes her cheek

a benediction from the river's dominion

Death's stone finger points in no direction

The song sticks in his stone throat

and he does not speak

His tongue ripples like Desolation Sound

The waterfall's howl shatters her bones

With the cataract's blade drawn out of the stone

A dead woman's essence crosses the bridge between

wisdom dwells in not knowing yellow, blue, or green

she sheds her colors, but the red trees don't grieve

The Boatman's ferry nods fore and aft

just so the bar blocks the road back

Yet somewhere between the boat and the bar

another is speaking not near but not far

This One calls for others who flit, fuss and fret

while she unravels the spun-again gold of her net

Another calls, "Cover the corpse."

"Ending is no option." His voice again.

That smooth potent voice in the dark

his hand hovers over her idled heart

Another advises, "We should stop now."

"No," says the first as he wipes her brow

The shine of his strength now incredibly near

Calm with shadowy secrets – his voice in her ears

"It is alright. You will stay here."

"Am I going? she whispers her question

to death, false companion, hollow as glass

with its bar and its bridge that she has already passed

somewhere and nowhere and in between

Wind in the weeds, now at the unyielding bar

She scrambles over reclaiming her star

Sly Boatman dips and poles his vessel away

As he fades, he chuckles and calls out, "You know you can't stay."

"I am come," she says. "Is it not so?"

She hushes the voice of the obsidian crow