Howard Schonberger was a member of the greatest generation, a World War II veteran who would become a newspaper man in every sense of the word.
He liked to call himself a “newsie” even into his 90s. Howard was a man who could recall the golden moments of the past, but he was also a forward thinker – a man ahead of his time. He fought for equal rights, inspired to make changes after seeing discrimination to black students as a kid in Omaha. Even though he never stopped loving his typewriter, he advocated for technology in the pursuit of knowledge, was a huge supporter of community events and served on many service groups – all done with a smile on his face and a skip in his step. No one who knew Howard could recall a time when he was in poor spirits.
Once after his grandchild commented, “Howard always in a good mood one,” Howard replied, “I’m not always in a good mood, and if I’m not, I’m quiet about it.”
Howard passed away on Friday, Oct. 23 at the age of 94. He was born March 9, 1921. A career in news was in the making early in Howard’s life as he started a paper route as a boy. After high school he attended the journalism school at Northwestern University. Halfway through obtaining his degree he was drafted into the Army and soon applied to become an officer.
Howard spent four years in service during WWII dubbing himself an infantry shavetail meaning an officer who is not very experienced. After being promised to get out of the regular Army a day early, Howard joined the reserves, which would eventually lead him to two years in the Korean War.
Pride in the service was important to him, but he was also upfront about the aftermath of such violence. In 2013 he wrote a column about meeting a fellow veteran at a community event.
“He has been a sturdy representative of the millions of veterans who have seen the devastation of war and respects all those who sacrificed their lives and limbs in the horror of war,” he wrote.
After WWII, he got married, had a son and worked as news editor of Veterans Report in Washington, D.C. He also worked as a proofreader for National Geographic. In 1949 he joined the advertising department at the Palo Alto Times in California.
Howard came to visit the San Juans in 1975 and purchased a lot at Cape San Juan with his second wife for their retirement. Four years later, Howard quit the Palo Alto Times and started a life on the island.
“I have no regrets,” he wrote about the decision in a 2014 column. In true fashion he went straight to work at the Journal as an ad man. You could not say no to Howard, who was a sharp salesmen all the way into his 94th year.
Howard was a part of many service groups on the island, but his longest devotion was at the Lion’s Club and American Legion, which he joined when he moved here. He met Helen in 2000 after his second wife passed away.
“It was really a stroke of luck when he met Helen,” said his son Howard Schonberger Jr. at his father’s memorial service. “It was the happiest he had ever been.”
The couple married in 2002. Helen recalled being attracted to him for his enthusiasm for life.
“You felt like you weren’t missing out on anything with Howard,” she said.
He was known for his zest for life on many fronts.
“He was interested in so many things,” said Helen. “He couldn’t wait to get up in the morning.”
His step-daughter Kathy Smith echoed those sentiments at Howard’s service ,commenting that he was game to do anything and always had a kind word to say about everyone.
He was also an elaborate gift giver. Once he sent Helen a singing Valentine’s telegram in the middle of her water aerobic’s class.
When he found out that the end of his life was near, Helen said he became very contemplative.
“He thought of dying as another adventure,” she said.
True to his philosophy he was eager to learn more about the afterlife.
“Skepticism always has been my aim as a newsie, voter or investor,” he wrote in a column in 2009. “‘Believe nothing you hear and only half of what you see,'” was what the old-timers would tell me as a cub reporter.” But Howard added that a good skeptic listens and gets the facts before making a decision.
He urged others to do the same by attending council meetings and talking with council members. He asked the community to write letters to the editor and read the news online. He was not afraid of using technology and welcomed the changes in the newspaper business as it morphed from print to the Internet.
In the last several years he was known at the Journal for his positive play reviews and guest columns.
“His columns brought people together,” said Mary Sawyer, his step-daughter. “He had an incredible gift for observation and a cheerful voice.”
He was also an active salesman with his shop local page, whale pages, grad tab, sports tab and the baby derby celebrating the first baby of the year, which he started.
Helen said that he was always looking at his numbers for next year hoping to sell more ads. In his personal life he was constantly striving to do more and see more. He was a great traveler and visited all of the 50 states, hitting Alaska in 2014, but remarked on his return that Washington was still the best.
“We were so happy,” said Helen, who is now 85. “We loved living here on the islands.”
He played trivia once a week, loved playing Scrabble and charades with his grandchildren and played golf until he was 92. Activities with younger people kept Howard young at heart. “He was an easy fit into the family,” said Mary Sawyer. “He added so much happiness and managed to put up with a lot of chaos that comes with moving into a close-knit family.”
When Howard married Helen he inherited eight stepchildren. He already had a son from his previous marriage. At the time of his death, he had a large legacy left behind with one son, eight step-children, 16 grandchildren and two great grandchildren. When the kids and grandkids weren’t visiting and the house was quiet Helen recalled often sitting in the living room with Howard watching great blue herons fishing and eagles soaring over the sparkling waters.
“There’s something about these islands that makes past troubles become smaller, whether they are from war times or other hard times,” wrote Howard in 2013.