- Date Of Birth: March 30, 1929
- Date Of Death: May 22, 2015
- State: Colorado
Beloved mother and grandmother Claire Gibbons passed away May 22, 2015, at a care facility in Centennial. She was 86. A devout Catholic who loved a political discussion over a game of cards, she will be remembered for her talent with words, wit and devotion to family and friends.
She was born Claire Elaine Schueller on March 30, 1929, in Dubuque, Iowa, to Bernard and Viola Schueller. She had six siblings. During her childhood, her father sustained the family through the Great Depression as a general contractor building Works Progress Administration projects in Dubuque’s Eagle Point Park. She graduated high school in 1947 and worked as a beautician and switchboard operator for a telephone company.
Two years after her Sept. 9, 1950, marriage to Dubuque native Donald Joseph Gibbons, the young couple moved to southern California. They spent the next 18 years in Los Angeles, La Puente and Hacienda Heights.
In California, Claire was a homemaker who took care of three sons and one daughter. She found time to host home hairdressing appointments and sell cosmetic products for Avon.
In 1970, the family moved to Broomfield, Colorado. After the children left home, Donald and Claire eventually moved to Ft.
Her social life continued when she moved to an assisted living facility in Arvada, then a residential care center in Centennial, where she delivered residents’ mail every day. She is preceded in death by her husband, parents and siblings Russell, Adele, Janette, John, Kenneth and Geraldine. She is survived by her sister, Kathleen Vander Bloom of De Pere, Wisconsin; sons, Gregory B. Gibbons of Parker, Colorado, Paul R. Gibbons of Highlands Ranch, Colorado, and Mark J. Gibbons of Grand Junction, Colorado; daughter Julie Wilson of Littleton, Colorado; 10 grandchildren and 5 great-grandchildren.
Her poem, “The Artist” written at age 12, hangs on her children’s walls. It reads as follows: “At start of day when I begin my daily round of duties, First thing I do is take a pen and sketch the morning beauties. Out the window, over the field I see the dawning day and all the dreams this world can yield right ‘neath that sum they lay.”
