Arthur J. Stinsman, on February 6, 2013, of Washington Twp. Age 89. Beloved husband of Rita V. (nee Lind). Devoted father of Mary F. Law and her husband Thomas and the late Veronica Oakley and Audrey Stinsman. Also survived by his son-in-law William Oakley II. Loving grandfather of Bill III, Karen and Paul. Proud great-grandfather of Bill IV, Eddie, Megan, Grace and Kelly. Dear brother of Anna May Royle.

Relatives and friends are invited to attend his viewing Monday 10:15 – 11:15 am at SS. Peter & Paul RC Church, 362 Ganttown Road, Washington Twp. Mass of Christian Burial 11:30 am. Interment St. Joseph’s Cemetery, Chews Landing.

I’ve been tasked with writing my grandfather’s, Arthur Joseph Stinsman’s, memorial, a task that I am extremely honored to have been given, and a task for which I am hopelessly unworthy, but which I will pursue to completion with all the strength of my heart and mind, as well as, I hope and pray, some spiritual assistance from my grandfather and the God whom he loved and to whom he has at long last gone home, because without their help I don’t see how I could possibly do justice to a man who was, is, and always will be, to me, larger than life.
He was born in 1923, a child of the Great Depression, though, he always told me he had no idea his family were poor. In fact, my grandmother, thought his family was well off because they always had a car, and even a two room vacation bungalow with an outhouse in Clementon, NJ. What she didn’t realize, was that his father was just extraordinarily handy and kept cars running that should have long died, and built that bungalow out of scrap wood from an old horse stable. And yes, they knew each other from the time they were little children and my grandfather loved his Rita Veronica ever since. He would often tell how he fell in love with her voice, when, as a little boy, he heard her singing from one of the neighboring row homes on the block where they both lived in South Philadelphia, and I think good insight into the character of this larger than life man comes from what he wrote about my grandmother (whom he called Ronnie until they decided to name their first daughter Veronica) on the back of her nursing school graduation picture, while he was in the service, shortly before they were married.
“Now this is Ronnie. Nice sounding name, isn’t it? She is to be my wife someday. I am going to spend my life, loving her, keeping her from all harm. We will have children someday. We will be a symbol of all that is right and true. Take a good look at her picture and understand somewhat why I love her. The picture has failed to show what Ronnie is, but my heart tells me what my Ronnie means to me.”
His “Ronnie” became his “Rita Dear” and, having lived many years under their roof, I can attest that for the 32 years I’ve been living and have known the man, he has loved her with all the ardor and even more so than his words on the back of that picture convey. Ask any one of us, the members of his family, and we will tell you the same. “Rita Dear,” I can still hear him saying those words in my head as I write this, though its been a couple years since he could speak them, and I can still remember the look of love in his eyes every time he said them, the same look of love they had every time he saw her; those bright, crystal blue, smiling eyes of his that captivated everyone and spread the love and joy and warmth of his tremendous heart to all those who had the privilege to meet him or spend any length of time in his presence; those eyes that radiated unconditional love and strength and peace to his family, no matter what they were going through; that saw his brothers in arms in the Army Air Corp with a camaraderie that only soldiers could ever understand; that looked with pride on the men who worked with him and for him, maintaining the boilers at the Atlantic Richfield Oil Refinery in South Philadelphia; that cared for the children of Washington Township, NJ, all the years he was their bus driver; that joined happily in the mirth of the mentally and physically handicapped children he helped succeed by his volunteer work with the Special Olympics; that remembered the poor and the homeless, whom most everyone would like to forget, when he worked for Social Services; those eyes now closed, but that I still have the privilege of seeing because they were inherited by my beautiful six year old little girl, Gracie.
This larger than life man, whose fatherly example I try with all my heart to follow, as I work hard to be a good father myself to my own daughter, died at 5:10am, on February 6, 2013, at the Veteran’s Home in Vineland, NJ, after suffering with Alzheimer’s disease for several years. That disease took a once brilliant man’s intellect and made it so that he could barely speak and often didn’t even recognize his own family members, but it never took his will, his heart. Alzheimer’s could not conquer his indomitable spirit, and he remained the extraordinarily loving, joy filled man, whose never fading smile and crystal blue eyes, gave that joy to all who ever met him, and instantly won over his caretaker’s at the Veteran’s Home. I dare say, they came to love him there during the last few years of his life as much as we, his family did, who knew him all of ours.
“This world is undoubtedly poorer without you Arthur Joseph Stinsman, but I pray God we may all see you in the next, and I pray you too intercede with Him for all of us left here, as we struggle through this life without you.”

In lieu of flowers donations may be made in Arthur’s memory to the Veteran’s Memorial Home, 524 North West Blvd. Vineland, NJ 08360-2895. Arrangements are under the care of the Egizi Funeral Home, Washington Twp. Condolences may be shared with the family at www.egizifuneral.com

“A Life Well Lived
Is Worth Remembering”