James Alvin Bieser, 93, ended his adventures on earth on April 20, 2026, at home on 70th Street across from Enderis Park, surrounded by family.
He was preceded in death by his devoted wife of 66 years, Donna Kathryn (Voell) Bieser, who passed away on December 3, 2025. Our Dad was the middle child of Raymond (1982) and Mary Bieser (née Noonan, 1977), and the last survivor of his five siblings -- four brothers and a sister: Raymond “Ray” (2011), Joseph “Joe” (2007), Dennis “Denny” (1982), Gerald “Gerry” (2012), and Mary Jane Miller (1998).
Born on June 27, 1932, in Chicago, Illinois, Dad grew up in Milwaukee on 37th Street, a few blocks from St. John de Nepomuc Parish where he attended grade school and formed the foundation of his lifelong Catholic faith. From an early age he worked multiple jobs -- a grocery store clerk selling pickles and sauerkraut out of barrels for a nickel. A paper boy up at 5:15 every morning walking a four-mile route delivering the Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun, and the Jewish Forward, arriving home at 7:00am to eat breakfast before school. Hard work was etched into his soul.
Dad had a modest upbringing, but was never hungry or in need, a reality that shaped his life. He did his homework in the unheated attic by candlelight because that’s “where it was quiet.” His father would wait until Christmas Eve to buy a tree because “they were cheaper then.” One year, learning of a free Christmas tree, dad walked eight miles with his father on Christmas Eve to pick it up. Thrift and “don’t waste” were lifelong themes. At the very end he was still having us turning off unnecessary lights.
When we were young Dad would share memories of tuning the radio to the Lone Ranger, Amos and Andy, and The Shadow. He imitated George Burns and Gracie Allen doing comedy bits. He sang us Gene Autry cowboy songs. The many stories he told painted a childhood filled with imagination, mischief, and adventures.
In 1947, he was accepted into Marquette University High School to study under the watchful eyes of the Jesuit priests. He excelled in academics – just like his own father Ray who in 1917 was a valedictorian at his high school in St. Louis. At Marquette High, dad joined the track team and began his lifelong love of running.
While attending Marquette University, dad worked as Caddy Master at Milwaukee Country Club and lived in a private apartment above the MCC clubhouse. In addition to his caddy wages, dad’s full tuition for college was covered when he was awarded the second Evans Scholar of the Western Golf Association -- a coveted scholarship given to outstanding caddies. He earned his degree in civil engineering in 1955.
After college, he enlisted in the navy, attended officer candidate school in Pensacola Florida, learned to fly, and earned the rank of Lieutenant. He served as a naval aviator in Anti-Submarine Patrol Squadron VP-22 stationed in Hawaii and Alaska, flying patrols in a twin engine P2V Neptune. He was a member of American Legion Post 0411 in Wisconsin. In the early 1960s he spent several
years in the Naval reserves. Fun fact for any Boy Scouts who traveled with Dad and chatted with him on a CB radio – his pilot call sign in the Navy was “Chain Drive.”
Dad married his college sweetheart, Donna, on June 13, 1959, and together they raised six children: Patrick, Daniel (Sara Zirbel), Michael, Kathryn (Bob Alcorta), James (Jeanne Podewils), and Susan. Dad and Mom also welcomed nephew Matthew Bieser into their home to nurture and raise. Dad was the proud grandfather of Patrick Jr., Katelyn, Ben, August, Christian, India, Miguel, Noah, Jonah, Annie, Charlie, Ted, Mary, Nina, Joseph, Peter, Maya and Anjali, and great-grandfather of Cooper and Berkeley. He is further survived by sisters-in-law, brothers-in-law, nieces, and nephews.
There was no television in the Bieser household until about 1966 -- and even then, Dad controlled access with an engineer’s ingenuity. First, he removed a tube so viewing could be prevented during unauthorized hours, but a clever son found a replacement tube at a TV repair shop. He then discreetly removed a small circuit breaker, but after an exhaustive search his industrious kids found where he had hidden it in the basement. We would secretly watch Gilligan’s Island and Scooby-Doo before he and mom got home, but Dad still caught us. Apparently, TVs stay warm to the touch for up to 15 minutes after being turned off.
His eight-member household was run like a job site with his encouraging refrain of “you can do that better.” Chores were assigned and expectations were clear -- finishing the task correctly and completely. On weekends, Dad conducted inspections worthy of his Navy days -- beds made tight, clothes folded properly. Like a good job site, household budgets were watched carefully. Any child who asked to plug in a fan on a hot summer night was reminded that “it’s not that hot.”
Dad was the disciplinarian, but he was also fully engaged year-round as an instructor and coach. He practiced with all of us in the front yard and the park – football throwing technique, tennis strategy, properly catching and hitting the baseball, juggling and passing the soccer ball, running football routes, holding the golf club correctly to optimize distance and accuracy, and strategy around the green. He led games of kick-the-can, and fox and hounds – running around the park howling like dogs. He coached from his living room chair too, watching Bundesliga soccer on Channel 36 and yelling at the screen: “Dribble, dribble, dribble, pass, dribble, dribble, shoot, shoot!”
Household mishaps and missing items were blamed on a mysterious seventh sibling known only as “They.” Dad would yell from the basement, “Donna, where did They put my hammer?” In the wintertime, “Donna, They turned up the thermostat again!”
Dad was an on-call teacher of home maintenance tasks -- re-shingling the roof, re-building the chimney, fixing cars, painting and replacing broken windows. Six kids broke a lot of stuff! He had an affinity for understanding and sharing his money management skills with his children and anyone who needed a little guidance in those areas, and he was generous with his blessings.
Dad became active in Boy Scout Troop 61 in 1970 and remained involved for 42 years. All four of his sons earned the rank of Eagle Scout. He attended all 42 summer camps at Jag Lake and went on dozens of high adventure trips out west where we remember his spirited “debates” with Scoutmaster Greg “Doc” Harrington. The entire Bieser family joined Doc’s Christmas ski trips to Colorado in the 1970s where we were introduced to mountain skiing for the first time. In the late 1980s he was honored with the St. George Award for his contributions to the spiritual development of Catholic youth
Beyond scouting, Dad served as the head of the unofficial Park Patrol at Enderis Park, keeping the hoodlums out at night, once dislocating his shoulder in a nighttime chase of a group of teenagers. Remember the dislocated shoulder ‘reset’ scene in Mel Gibson’s Lethal Weapon? We saw that in real time in our kitchen.
Dad was a man of details. His tiny handwriting was a window into his philosophy: efficiency, precision, clarity. His writing was so small he could fit an entire instruction manual on the back of an envelope and not miss a step. He planned the Itinerary of his Niagara Falls honeymoon -- mileage, stops, agenda – down to the minute. He valued attention to detail in words and actions. His need for exact navigational next steps from mom, sitting in the passenger seat in our 1967 Chevy Impala, reading the paper map, left a lasting impression on all of us.
On May 2, 1991, Dad retired after 38 years, 7 months, and 21 days of service as a Supervising Engineer with Milwaukee County Public Works -- and yes, he counted every day. He was extensively involved in the design and construction of the Milwaukee County freeway system, including work on the Park West Freeway project, which was eventually cancelled. In the early 70s he worked on the 794 East stub that Milwaukeeans came to know as the “Bridge to Nowhere”, famously featured in the finale of The Blues Brothers movie. That section of the freeway stood unfinished for years until it was finally connected to the Hoan Bridge. His office for many years was in the Courthouse Annex; the famous whale wall building built over the downtown freeway. The annex was removed as part of the new Marquette University interchange mega-project in 2006.
Mom and Dad’s wedding song was “Somewhere My Love” from the movie Doctor Zhivago. When we were young, they would dance when it came on the radio. For years, the only vinyl records in the family collection were of Hawaiian luau music, a children’s version of Peter and the Wolf, and the Purple Puzzle Tree -- a Christian bible multi-media experience with read along books. But if any Broadway musical was ever on TV we were allowed to watch past our bedtime. Musicals like Oklahoma, King and I, Sound of Music, West Side Story, Hello Dolly filled the house with warmth. Dad didn’t play any instruments, but his love of music ran deep.
One of his defining and least known qualities was his devout faith in his Savior Jesus Christ. He understood that faith was a precious gift that could be nurtured if given the chance, so he sacrificed some of the comforts of life to put the highest priority on assuring a private Catholic grade school and high school education for each of his children. In his later years he found great comfort and a sense of peace in sharing daily prayers before bedtime.
Memories: Mom and Dad playing tennis in Enderis park. Dad’s BB Gun shooting range in the basement. Dad overseeing the crawlspace excavation -- digging four bushels of dirt a day after supper, hauled in the station wagon to the nearby cemetery -- hundreds of hours of child labor, resulting in a workshop / tool room with a leaky wall. When asked for an allowance, Dad agreed to pay a penny a day, but you had to ask for it every day; aggregating five days for a nickel was not an option. Trips to Uncle Joe and Uncle Denny’s cabins. Playing ping-pong in the basement. Coaching grade school soccer and cub scout baseball teams. Teaching us how to ski. Dad’s standard breakfast: 1 hard-boiled egg. 1 banana. 1 bowl of raisin bran with milk. 1 cutie. ½ glass of orange juice.
Dad was a member since 1960 of Mother of Good Counsel Catholic Church. He served as past president of the Holy Name Society and the Home and School Association. He was president of the
West Golf Association in the 1960s. He also ran the MGC St Vincent De Paul meal program with mom.
In his final days, with his son Michael at his side, Dad woke in the early morning hours, waved, and said simply: “Mother is here.” She had come to let him know it was his time.
Dad was taught this prayer by his mother Mary on the occasion of his First Communion:
“Dearest Jesus, let me be.
Never separate from me.
Let me in breathing my last breath,
Find paradise in death.”
Services
Visitation will be held at Mother of Good Counsel Catholic Church on Saturday, May 9th from 10:30 AM until 12:00 PM, followed by the Mass of the Resurrection at Noon. Private Interment at Holy Cross Cemetery, Milwaukee.
In lieu of flowers, memorials are suggested to the Care of Senior Jesuits at https://www.jesuitsmidwest.org/support-us/donate-now/ or to Mother of Good Counsel Parish - 6924 W. Lisbon Ave. Milwaukee WI 53211
“Chain Drive, over and out”
