Charles "Chuck" Michael Renne

Charles “Chuck” Michael Renne was born on June 11, 1932, in Kansas City, Kansas, and died on October 22, 2025, in Denver, Colorado. Chuck is survived by his wife, Charlotte Jean (Haroz) Renne, and their four children, Teresa (Ray) Faliskie, son Bryce, and granddaughter Morgan, Constance (Dominic) D’Ambrosio, children Michaela and Gabriel, and grandchildren Hemi and Malia, Michael (Marietta) Renne, children Zachary, Fidelia, Shai, and Moriah), and David Renne.

Chuck was born the eldest of ten children to Ruth and Charles Renne. He is survived by his siblings Jody, Tom, Dan, Mary, Janet, and Joan. He is predeceased by his parents and siblings Bill, Fred, and Jerry.

Education was always important to Chuck. He attended St. Joseph High School in Shawnee Kansas, where he was a star basketball player. He put himself through college and graduate school, first attending Donnelly College and later earning a PhD in Clinical Psychology from St. Louis University. He also proudly served in the Navy in his younger years.

Chuck met the love of his life, Charlotte Jean, at a dance in Kansas City. He and wife of 68 years were married in 1957 in Dallas, Texas.

Chuck worked for many years as a clinical psychologist at CARIH (Children’s Asthma Research Institute and Hospital) and then later at Kaiser and in private practice.

In 1967, Chuck and Charlotte moved their young family to the Bonnie Brae neighborhood in Denver, where they fostered friendships and community for the next 60 years.

Chuck’s Christian faith was central to who he was in life. He regularly attended Mass at St. Vincent De Paul Parish in Denver and was active in various church ministries, including providing the Eucharist and comfort to the residents of nursing homes.

Family was also important to Chuck. He loved his siblings and travelled whenever he could for gatherings and reunions. He loved his children and grandchildren, providing for them in so many ways, and supporting them in every stage of life. Chuck set an example that his children should follow to love, honor, and care for each other. He was devoted to Charlotte, putting her first, caring for her throughout his life, through sickness and health.

Chuck enjoyed dancing with Charlotte, fishing and hunting (with his brothers and friend, Franz), road trips, the Broncos (season ticket holder since 1972), music, carpentry, and coffees, dinners, and Happy Hours with friends and family. He always had a smile and a kind word for neighbors or strangers he met on the road of life.

Chuck was a gentle man and a gentleman. He gave his ear, his expertise, and his help without hesitation to anyone who called upon him. We are fortunate to have had him in our lives for all these years and he will be missed.

In his final hour, Chuck was heard to say, “Father, come get me”. Very soon after, the Father brought him home.

A Funeral Mass will take place at Saint Vincent De Paul Church on Wednesday, November 5, at 10:00 a.m.

The Funeral Mass will be livestreamed. Please see below for the video.

A reception will follow at noon at 858 South Josephine Street.

In lieu of flowers, please donate to a charity of your choice in Chuck Renne's name.

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Reflections of a Granddaughter on Papa

Unlike Papa, I am a person of many words, but I will try to keep this appropriately brief. As I’ve been reflecting on my grief this week, the shape and texture of it, the words that have come to mind are joy and simplicity. Papa brought me an inordinate amount of joy in this world and he communicated his love through acts of profound simplicity. This is what I will miss, and this is what I want to commemorate today. 

First, the joy. There is an entry in my childhood journal, tucked away in my parents’ house, about a family road trip to Denver. I was around the age when you navigate the world looking at adults’ legs, because you are so small. Memory fails me in regards to details, and as I’m abroad I sadly cannot check the original source - my 8- or 9-year old scribbles. Apparently, Grammy and Papa came to meet us somewhere unexpected, on our way to visit them. I had been so excited to see Papa that I imagined seeing him at several pit stops before arriving, thinking every tall man in my proximity as we approached Denver might be him. Once I actually saw him, he was acting like it was a big surprise, and I was delighted. But I wrote in my journal that I had recognized him immediately and that none of the other Papa decoys could fool me, because “no one on earth is as handsome as my Papa”. As a child, I found him utterly charming. He always treated me like a princess, while also encouraging me to fish, climb, run, get muddy, and be loud. I felt I could be my full self around him, and despite the many complexities of growing older, that feeling has never gone away. I recall a poignant memory in which Papa called me over to his side at a large family gathering, where he sat within the otherwise detached realm of the adult world, and asked me whether the other kids were ‘picking on me’. Standing only at the height of his shoulder when seated, I rested my head on his shoulder and pouted, “They don’t want me to play their game.” He responded with attitude: “Well! Let’s invent our own game, and that will show them!” It will come as no surprise to those who know Papa’s short social attention span that we, in fact, did not end up inventing our own game, but his comment alone filled me with such joy and lightheartedness that I don’t remember what came next other than that everything was okay again. I felt happy, seen, loved… and perhaps above all, liked, just as I was. 

Multiple times throughout my life, the simplicity of the joy and acceptance Papa offered gave me a window of hope and an anchoring in difficult times. In the final years of my PhD, when I was struggling quite a bit, I often pushed myself to continue by remembering how confident he was that I would finish. He would overhear me telling Grammy about my struggles, and simply insert, “You’ll finish. You’ll do well.” The simplicity of his belief that I would do well and that everything would be okay in the end, even when things seemed not okay, was so simple but very empowering. I believe many others have also been touched by this man’s ability to express much with little. When I was a teenager, I was privileged enough to have an extended visit with Grammy and Papa completely on my own, during which I spent long hours sitting alone with Papa listening to music in absolute silence. It was in the safety of that silence that he first tried to express to me how deeply he loved me, which took me by surprise. But it wasn’t the number or uniqueness of his vocabulary that left an impression. It was the simplicity of it, and the way it pierced his typical reticence. “Just so you know, you are very special to me. And I love you.” With no context, and no need for a response, he said this phrase in moments of silence unexpectedly many times thereafter. I have also heard and seen him prioritize these words, above all others, when speaking to his family in his final days when he had severely limited energy. Papa has always been a man of limited social energy, and as he became more tired and talking became more difficult, I watched him prioritize the words he was able to get out. The first of which, when speaking to his wife, his daughters, and his sons was almost always “I love you.” We also know that other phrases, simple phrases like “Thanks for coming” and “I’m really glad you’re here” and “I’m sorry you have to leave” mean the same thing: “I love you. You matter to me. You’re special.” Papa’s presence in my life taught me that the simplicity of this kind of love and commitment is all that truly matters in life. 

I have had long conversations with him about his faith, about the consistency of his prayer life, and how it has carried him through his time in the Navy, his time in school, and his journey as a father and husband. Underpinning all of this is a pattern of consistency and commitment to profoundly simple things, things that take the complexity of life and make it all go a bit quiet. I have watched how consistently he loves Grammy, modeling a relationship I hope to mirror one day. I have watched how he prays consistently and goes to church consistently as an anchor. I have loved stories about his travels around the U.S. as a teenager, when he took jobs in random cities until he found and fell in love with Denver and swore to come back. And he did come back! Consistency and commitment, despite setbacks or personal struggles, was a mark of this man that I believe others will agree on. He met Grammy, he loved Grammy, he kept Grammy. He saw Denver, he loved Denver, he moved to Denver. I will carry with me this belief: That sometimes finding love and joy can really be that simple, and that once we find these simple, lovely things, they are worth fighting for, worth working for, worth staying for. One of the last pieces of advice that Papa gave me was “Don’t give up. I know something good is out there and you’ll find it.” - he said this in reference to my career, but I take it as a broader piece of advice for all of life. I’ll forever be honored to be a small piece of the good that Papa found in his life, along with his whole family. His comforting presence in my life will be deeply missed, but its impact on me will never go away.

With all my love,

Fidelia

Dated: 11/3/2025

On the passing of Papa (Charles “Chuck” Michael Renne) on October 22, 2025