March
30, 1929 – July 11, 2011
Today,
I come here not to mourn my Dad’s death, but to remember his life.
Dad
was born March 30, 1929, in Burwell, Nebraska.
He always claimed that, instead of a pat on the bottom to get him to
take his first breath, the doctor held him outside the window in the freezing
winter air. That’s enough to make
anyone yell. He also claimed that
incident had something to do with him losing his hair, but I’m not sure how
that works.
He
grew up on a farm and took care of the livestock, starting at a very young
age. In the warm summer sun, he
sometimes worked shirtless. His Auntie
Jum remarked that he got as brown as a berry.
After that, he carried the nickname of “Brownie” for many years.
He was
a tailback for his high school football team and graduated from Burwell High
School in 1948.
During
the Korean War, he proudly served his country as a radio operator in the U.S. Army. The
men he served with remember him as a
quiet and dedicated soldier, fighting together with them in several battles on
Heartbreak Ridge. For his service, he was awarded
the Korean Service medal, United Nations Korea Medal, and two bronze service
stars.
After
leaving the Army in 1953, Homer worked as a mechanic and telephone
linesman. One day, after repairing a telephone line in the bitterly cold
Nebraska winter, he climbed down the pole, immediately quit his job and moved
to sunny Southern California.
In
1957, he began driving a bakery truck for Helms Bakery. After work each
Thursday afternoon, Homer would open his truck for the neighborhood kids so
they could feast on leftover doughnuts and treats.
In
1961, he met his bride, Darlene Canny. My
sister, Pam, was their matchmaker, telling Homer that her Mom really, really
wanted to see “Gone with the Wind.” The
rest is history. They married on
September 3, 1961, in Las Vegas, and lived happily ever after these past 50
years. Even in his last days, he told
his caregivers that “Darlene really lights up a room like sunshine.”
When
Helms Bakery closed in 1966, Dad became a letter carrier for the Postal Service
where he was known by his co-workers as “Andy.” As a letter carrier, he
walked 10 miles a day for 33 years, carrying a satchel over his shoulder and
wearing polished shoes and a crisply pressed uniform. He cared about having a professional
appearance and shunned the shorts and knee socks letter carriers wear today
claiming that they leave just enough knee exposed to encourage dogs to bite.
He
loved to come home at lunchtime and have Mom make him a good meal. During the evening meal, he told us stories about
his co-workers and about all of the pets and people he met on his route.
He worked hard and his patrons always remarked that they could set their
watches by the timeliness of his mail deliveries.
There
were times when Dad would have to work a second job to provide for our family
but he did so gladly because he loved us.
He wasn’t always a perfect Dad but he took his role as father and
provider seriously and he did his very best.
He
seldom took a sick day but he enjoyed taking vacations. He has traveled extensively through the
United States (including Hawaii and Alaska), to the Holy Land, Europe, Korea,
and Japan.
Homer
loved Jesus and was an active member of Grace Church where he had the privilege
of serving as deacon and, more recently at First Baptist Church of Lakewood,
where he served as an usher. Whenever he met someone new to the church, he
would point them at Mom knowing she has a special way of making people feel
welcome.
He
was friendly and could approach anyone, anywhere. When I was 16, my parents and
I went to Hawaii. After we landed in
Honolulu, Dad saw someone familiar in baggage claim. He didn’t know the guy’s name but walked over
and asked, “Do you go to such and such church?”
No. “Do you square dance?” No.
The man was the actor, Kurt Russell.
And I love this story about my Dad because it speaks to the sense that
his heart was still small town where you know everyone and you greet your
friends whenever you see them.
Many
have said how Homer touched their lives. He adopted many people into his life and heart
and is thought of as a father and grandfather to so many more than his
immediate family. His love for pancakes with real maple syrup and strawberry
ice cream are legendary. He had a funny sense of humor and often made us
groan with his puns. He was a simple man and lived his life without an
ATM card, cell phone or computer.
If
you want to memorialize my Dad in some way, he would tell you to keep your
money. Instead,
·
Be an usher at your church
·
Take your dog for a walk and enjoy the common things you see· Goof around with your kids and grandkids until you laugh
· Be devoted to your spouse and always send a mushy, romantic card on special days
· Continue to extend love and grace to family members even if they don’t love you back
· Have a nice stack of pancakes or a big dish of strawberry ice cream
· Fly the American flag
· But mostly, ask Jesus into your heart. That way, you can be sure to see Dad again someday
Good-bye Poppy. I love you and I miss you.
Love KJ
(Kelly Jean sweetheart, your tiny baby girl
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