William C Werle, (Bill) was the youngest of 9 children and the last remaining sibling of both his and his wife's immediate families. He was preceded in death by his wife, Audrey (Lucking) Werle, his parents, Joseph and Rosa Mary (Herrmann) Werle, three brothers: Ralph (Flora) Werle, Albert (Anna) Werle, Donald Werle (an infant), and five sisters: Bertha (Vincent) Willman, Mary (Sister Maria Werle, OSF), Matilda (John) Kahny, Clara (Sebastian) Abel, Rose (Raymond) Carrara, and one grandson, James Werle.

He is survived by many descendants: his children Joseph (Patricia) Werle, John (Paula) Werle, Mary Louise (Kenneth) Norman; his grandchildren and great-grandchildren: Angela (Andrew) Lucas (Wyatt, Delia), Nicholas Werle, Michael Werle, Benjamin Werle; Megan (Gregg) Edwards (Grant, Garrison, Jackson, Gwen), Peter (Laura) Werle (Winnifred, Isabel), Colleen (Paul) Doran, Neal Werle; Rachael (Duke) Beaver (Rhiannon, Rebekkah, John, Jeremiah, Joshua), John (Jennifer) Norman (Matthew, Emily, Paige, Jack), and Sarah (Eric) Lybolt (Lillian, Delilah, Eric). Dearly beloved of Bill and his late wife, Audrey, were numerous nieces, nephews, god-children, and extended family.

Bill Werle had big, working hands and wandering feet. And those hands and feet spread kindness and service on a life journey spanning 96 years. What stories he could tell! Each one illustrated with his hands, recounting the many places and people his feet carried him to.

As a boy on a 1930s poultry farm, his hand's packed eggs and butter with his father on an egg route in the German, Jewish and Italian areas of Cincinnati, including Over the Rhine and Price Hill. They walked opposite sides of the street in a race back to the truck. He raised rabbits and took orders from a local butcher for Saturday delivery. He and nature formed a lifelong bond on the wooded hills of Sayler Park. He called the area "Muddy Creek". He said one leg was shorter than the other from walking on the hills. He claimed to have swam across the Ohio River.

At 13 his hands and imagination combined two transmissions under the bare-boned chassis of a Model T because he was tired of harnessing the horses.

When a teenager, he worked in a munitions plant, creating pepper cans and shell containers during the early days of World War II. 1945 found him in Germany leading a convoy of supply trucks for GIs. He kidded he was working for Coca-Cola. He said he often put a can of beans next to the motor so he would have a hot lunch. He also transported refugees from concentration camps to ports or work sites.

Returning stateside in 1945, he installed indoor plumbing in the farmhouse. He continued to hunt and then to dance with the big bands traveling to Coney Island and Moonlight Garden.

Aaaannnd... he developed a strong romance with one lovely Audrey Lucking. In 2022 they celebrated their 71st Anniversary. They had three children while Bill completed night school to become a tool and die, maker. In 1960 his feet took their family to Madison, Indiana. He set up the tool and die room for Conn Organ, eventually becoming the plant's processing engineer. He put a mattress in the back of a Rambler station wagon. We'd sing 'Side by Side' traveling back from family celebrations. We also remember the magic of his large, warm hands rubbing our backs to wake us up to go hunting, holding us when we were hurt or sad, or lifting us to play. (Needless to say, we relished those hugs and hands our entire lives).

Our cousin Ellie (Wintering) Miller described Uncle Bill as the epitome of a gentleman. His natural instinct was to care for and serve the person in front of him, without any expectations. He made everyone feel comfortable with a smile, a laugh, or a story.

By 1973 his feet and wanderlust were moving again to inner city Indianapolis where he, Audrey and eldest son Joe created an inner city ministry called Ephesus House of Prayer. Ellie also noted that Bill not only "talked the talk, but walked the walk." He lived out the message of love. During this period he worked at Indy's only black-owned machine shop, training men and ex-convicts in the trade. His boss's wife once asked, "Why don't our cars work all the time like Bill's car?"

After he retired in 1989, they wandered yet again to Steubenville, Ohio to assist with the various conferences sponsored by the Franciscan University of Steubenville. Many of the professors and religious in the community depended on him for household repairs, including wiring a convent and building a chapel for the burgeoning TOR sisters. Dad teased the professors that they "could not turn a left-handed screwdriver". He renewed his love of fishing and nature during this time.

But his feet still weren't done moving. As their senior years approached, he and Audrey returned to Indiana to be closer to Jack and Joe's family and siblings in the Cincinnati area. Their last home in Richmond held all the memories-- a menagerie of artwork, pots and pans, fishing gear, plumbing, and electrical parts assembled with his detailed mind in the obvious order. He continued to fish and hunt with grandkids and friends. He rekeyed many locks for Joe's rentals until his once nimble hands gave way to arthritis and nerve damage.

He and Audrey continued their prayer life and support of the Elizabeth Seton Catholic parish and schools. Siblings and in-laws passed away one by one until he Audrey was the two remaining siblings and tower of goodwill and mercy for both the Werle and Lucking families. He once gushed "Oh, what a life I lived!"   (See the Bill and Audrey Werle channel on YouTube).

His hands were working and his feet were walking but it was his heart that was most alive.

A visitation for Bill will be Thursday, February 9. 2023 from 6:00 P.M. to 8:00 P.M. at Stegall-Berheide-Orr Funeral Home. Liturgy of Christian Burial will be at 11:00 A.M. Friday, February 10, 2023, at St. Mary's Church with Rev. Sengole Gnanaraj officiating. Burial will be at 12:00 P.M. Saturday, February 11, 2023, at St. Mary's Cemetery in Cincinnati, Ohio. Online condolences may be sent to the family via the guest book at stegallberheideorr.com.