A Brief Biography

I go by "Charlie" to my friends......

My father was a Pastor at St. Matthew's Lutheran Church in northern Michigan.   Adjacent to the fieldstone church was a sprawling wood frame parsonage.  It was there on June 30, 1935  at 10:15 PM that I was born to Harry and Lydia Schultz.  I spent the first six years of my life there,   delighting in excursions to the next door farm, tunneling through corn shocks with playmates, fleeing the geese that guarded Miller's lane, and generally doing what a child that age relishes.

I moved to Saginaw Michigan in September, 1941, and spent my childhood and teen-age years there.  I have fond memories of that industrial city.  One which is not so pleasant, however, is World War II.   Saginaw had many General Motor factories which produced all types of war materials - ammunition, tanks, guns and jeeps.  I can recall driving around the city and seeing anti-aircraft guns pointing menacingly to the sky from factory rooftops.  But the happy conclusion to that war is also a recollection I shall never forget.  Crowds milled in downtown Saginaw.  Horns honked, bells rang and factory whistles blew all day long.  I didn't comprehend the magnitude of the event, but I knew it was a big deal because Dad drove our 1938 Studebaker downtown -an otherwise unheard of luxury since gas was precious and no one ever drove around without a purpose.

I graduated from Arthur Hill High School in 1953 and began my college career the following fall.  My intent was to become a Latin teacher, however few schools were offering Latin any longer so I majored in French, intending to become a French teacher.  During my sophomore year I decided to enter the ministry and changed my curriculum accordingly. However, I continued my French major.   Ask me how much I've used French in the ministry.  Yeah, right!

Following my graduation from college, I began my theological studies at Wartburg Seminary in Dubuque Iowa .  After four years of text books and a year of internship in Spokane, Washington, I buttoned on my backward collar and began my ministry.  (As a footnote, I might add that I don't know who was more relieved at my graduation  - me or my professors.)

   My first parish was a rural church in Dows, Iowa.  Don't bother looking on the map.  It isn't there.  I lived 10 miles from everything. Except a hog farm which, unfortunately, was directly west of the parsonage.  I learned quickly that the prevailing winds are from the west.   Geez!

I'm going to digress just a bit to tell you the story of how I met Herself, my first and present wife.  I was a bachelor when I moved to my little parish.  I soon found myself being invited to dinners where, just by chance, I was seated next to a young lady.  A SINGLE young lady. Everyone in the county felt it their obligation to get me married off. It was exhausting.  I finally got wise and began declining invitations. My excuses were lame, but my stamina was wilting.  One day I stopped by Sylvester Van Hove's Funeral home for coffee.  We had become friends through our  professions.  He was also President of the Board of Education.  Anyway, Van said to me, "Hey Charlie!  Have I got the girl for you.  This young, good-looking lady is coming to Dows to teach Phys Ed.   She's SINGLE!"   My reply was scathing.  "For cryin'' out loud, Van!  Not you, too.  Forget it.  I'm getting weary of people shoving young ladies at me."  Van replied, "OK, but remember where you heard this."  I said, Yeah, yeah, yeah."   That was that.

A month or so later I attended a high school basketball game.  During the intermission, a young lady bounced up to me and introduced herself. Seems as though a classmate of mine from seminary knew one of her girl friends who told Marlys to be SURE to look me up.  We visited a bit and she left.   I wasn't impressed.  To my chagrin, she reports she thought I was a schmuck!   Several weeks later both of us were involved in a variety show to raise money for band uniforms.  After one of the rehearsals, I asked her out for coffee.  We laughed.  We giggled.  I was charming.  I swept her off her feet.  We dated for two years and were married on June 19, 1965.

From Dowse, Iowa, we moved to Enon, Ohio, where I started a parish from scratch.  What a job!  Kinda like the Marines establishing a beach head.  But it was a great experience!  Best of all, our first son, Christian, was born there.  No experience like it.  None.  He grew by leaps and bounds.  I recall toying with the idea of strapping a side of beef on his back so that whenever he wanted to eat, he could just rip off a piece.  He's now 33 years old and 6'6".  Works for Sprint as Director Of Retail Marketing and lives in Kansas City, KS.  What a neat guy!

We moved back to Cedar Rapids, Iowa, in the fall of 1970 and began a satisfying ministry which lasted for 13 years.  In 1971 our second son came to us by way of adoption.  We were concerned that perhaps we might show more love and attention to Christian since he was our biological child.  However the instant Andrew was laid in Marlys' arms at the Orphanage, he became MY son.  My beloved son.  Andy is now 29 years old.  He suffered a closed head injury in a car accident in  1989.  It was a terrifying experience for our family, but not only did we survive, we are closer than ever.  Andy has made a marvelous recovery.   We are grateful.

In 1982 I accepted the call to be Pastor of Hope Lutheran Church in Hubbard Lake, Michigan.  I have fond and warm memories of all my parishes.  Yet, my days at Hope were simply splendid!  I began my ministry in a rural parish and I concluded my ministry in a rural parish.  I am, of all persons, most fortunate!

I retired in 1997.  We live near Roger City, Michigan, on property that has been in the family all my life.  It is a serene, gentle place. I feed the deer.  I walk through the forest.  I make my firewood in the summer.  I pester Herself  relentlessly.  I play euchre at the Radio Tavern on Tuesday nights.  In short, I live a joyful life!