James Francis Hauser
Born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, to Harold Hauser and Mary Gesicki Hauser, Jim spent his first six months adjusting to the complexities of city life before being whisked 235 miles north to Stetsonville. It was in Taylor County that his character was shaped around Button’s Pond, Stetsonville State Graded, a four-room primary school, and Medford High School where sports played a big part in his extra curricular activities.
Growing up in a village of 319 souls seven of whom were his siblings — Suzanne, Denis, Jon, Justin, Margaret, Kathryn and Patricia — had its challenges. Dad was mayor and mom and dad proprietors of Hausers’ General Store, giving “Jimmy” a certain status. He earned a degree from the University of Wisconsin, La Crosse which in 1959 when he graduated was known as Wisconsin State College, La Crosse, primarily a teachers college with Physical Education being one of the top majors.
Over the next four years, without deviating from his goal, he took the path of coaching and teaching becoming coach and general science teacher in Colfax and Rhinelander respectively. It was in Rhinelander, territory of the mysterious mythical Hodag, on a January 1963 morning with temps dipping to 50-degrees below zero that the next phase of his life began. Predictably in that kind of weather his ’59 Chevy Impala, the only new car he ever bought failed to start. That meant walking to school without boots or hat, clad in a suit, polished leather shoes and a classy Hart Schaffner Marx overcoat for warmth — no down jackets in those days. If the parent of a student had not offered him a lift, he might have frozen on the spot and not have had the opportunity that changed the trajectory of his life.
Within days of that “chilly” experience he was at the local post office grabbing an application to join JFK’s Peace Corps that, in 1961, had begun as a way for America to provide skilled workers in other parts of the world as well as for Americans to become more savvy about other cultures. Within months Jim was on his way to Sierra Leone, a tropical country in West Africa which coincidentally had gained independence in 1961. There, at St. Andrew’s Secondary School in upcountry Bo, under the British system of forms 1-5, he taught science and coached track and field and thanks to the Brits on the staff, learned to play cricket. In his second year he moved to Ghana and married Sally Werner, a PC volunteer at Sekondi College (in reality
January 19, 1937 - July 19, 2026
a secondary school) where they both taught until June 1965 before returning to the U.S.
Next stop: California to add a master’s degree in Public Health to the resume. His proudest moment in the role of family planning director for Region IX was to learn, well after his 33-year tenure, that teen pregnancies had dropped significantly thanks to the programs he had initiated. Between 1966-69 two children, Leslie and Alex completed the Jim/Sally family. Both gave him the opportunity to be dad-in-chief, keen to pass along strategic Hauser advice and develop a close bond using his coaching skills, sometimes casually; other times as the real deal while continuing to stress the importance of education and keeping one’s nose to the grindstone. In due time, Leslie added Karl Wuesthoff to the clan and Alex, Michelle Belforte. That meant another generation to receive the oft-repeated adages and stories. He had no trouble finding ways and means to bond with the Gen Y & Z groups consisting of Alexa and Chelsea Frenn, Kris, Tyler, and Maggie Wuesthoff, and Jordan and Dante Hauser in arenas where he could keep up meaningful chatter on a one-to-one basis, truly interested in their journeys. As expected, the Hauser/Frenn/Wuesthoff lineage did not stop there. Between 2019 and 2024 more special names — Rowan, Ingrid, Sunniva, Gunnar, Astrid, Conrad, Torin — were added to the family tree. Though this generation will only know their greatgrandfather through stories, photos and videos, they will learn what he stood for: commitment and decency and more than likely the adage of keeping one’s nose to the grindstone!
In retirement, Jim kept San Rafael, California, as his home turf and resumed his love affair with golf on a more regular basis with as much seriousness as he could muster, keeping score when he felt like it. Mostly, it was a chance to bond with friends in the same retirement boat he was rowing. When grandsons Jordan and Dante took up the 18-hole cause, showing promise as Lefties, a trait of their grandfather and Auntie Leslie, a new era of more expensive golf clubs began. Any time the three (and sometimes four with Alex) could find an agreeable tee time, the day was better, brighter, and filled with colorful commentary which will not be quoted here.
In closing, I leave you with the touching golf-related sentiments of a friend and occasional golfing buddy: “Keep hitting them straight Jimmy, you broke par in many other ways than on a golf course. You lived with purpose, told good stories, and you made the people around you better for the friendship.”
Per Jim’s wishes no charities are named. Based on the way he lived his life, he would suggest dropping a fiver or more into the hands of someone in need, voting with conscience for the most principled candidates, and mixing a manhattan on special occasions.
Paid Obituary 185931
