Dr. Leonard L. Tews

Dr. Leonard L. Tews, 89 of Oshkosh, passed away at Sharehaven of Oshkosh on Wednesday, April 10, 2024. He was born in Rush Lake, WI on May 28, 1934 to the late Lawrence and Jeanette (Starr) Tews. Leonard was married to Violet (Herring) Tews and had four children. 

Leonard was a biology professor at the University of Wisconsin Oshkosh from 1965 to 1996 and served as Chairman of the Biology Department.

Outside of academia, Leonard’s life was rich and diverse. He found solace and beauty in writing poetry, nurturing his soul through the art of words. His green thumb brought life to his garden, while his mellifluous voice resonated through his singing. Leonard's love for music extended to his cello performances with the Oshkosh Symphony, where he shared his passion with others.

A connoisseur of opera, Leonard held season tickets for the Milwaukee Opera Theatre, where he found joy in the theatrical performances brought to life on stage. His love for art and culture illuminated his world, enriching his experiences with the beauty of creativity.

Leonard is survived by his children, Matt Tews, Heather Burns, Chuck Tews and Edie Tews his ten grandchildren and six great grandchildren, as well as his brothers Roger and Glenn Tews.

In addition to his parents, Leonard was preceded in death by his sister, Beverly Sowle and his partner of 26 years, Ken Fielden.

A Celebration of Life is being held at Konrad-Behlman Funeral Home-Westside, 100 Lake Pointe Dr. on Saturday, April 27, 2024, at 2:00 p.m. Visitation will be at the funeral home from 12:00 p.m. until the time of the service.

In lieu of flowers, a memorial will be established.

Leonard’s family would like to extend their deep appreciation to the wonderful staff of Sharehaven and Aseracare Hospice for the compassionate care provided to Leonard at such a difficult time.

Written by Leonard, this poem was recently found amongst his papers.

How to Read My Obit

I was no different than the rest: my death a shipwreck. I swam for a time between abyss and sky.

Skim the roster of the survivors those who still float in a lifeboat and watch the distant horizon, people I loved and left.

Ignore the boredom of my honors and profession. They tell more of what the world expected than they tell of me.

Do not scoff at my finish when the weave of my intentions frayed to loose ends.

And before you blame me listen to what I say: When I stopped trying, I started to live.