I could not have asked for a better father.
All of my boyhood memories are of my dad and I doing something together. He carried me on his shoulders when I was small. When I was older we played tennis, shot baskets, and threw the baseball and football three or four times a week. We went to all the state high school football and basketball tournaments. He came to all my little league games. I always knew he loved me.
My dad had a great sense of humor. I will never forget the jokes, of all different colors, that he and his brother Al would tell whenever they got together. My dad kept his sense of humor through all his recent health problems.
My dad was very intelligent. He was captain of his undefeated high school debate team, he was Phi Beta Kappa in college, he graduated first in his class in law school at D.U., and finished second in the state on his bar exam. When I was in ninth grade he drilled me in Latin nouns and verbs. His love of learning was amazing.
My dad also loved literature and music. I was always totally amazed when my dad would quote, from memory, verse after verse of Shakespeare, or Shelley, or Keats. He did this as recently as last month. I will never forget his love of the music of Gilbert and Sullivan, and I will never forget he and I singing the music of Rogers and Hammerstein together last year in his hospital room.
My dad loved to travel. He and Harriett went to so many places on so many continents that I could never name them all. He so much enjoyed experiencing the different places and cultures of the world.
My dad was very close to his mother, and I will never forget the family gatherings with his beloved siblings Ed, Al, Eleanor, Wilma and Ede. He was a wonderful husband to Harriett, and he was an awesome grandfather to all his grandchildren and great grandchildren. He valued family above all else. My dad was one of the nicest people I have ever known.
Over the last few days many of you have said that I am very much my father’s son. I will never be given a higher compliment.
I was going to end with a funny story about my dad, but I think I will save that for the reception. Instead, let me conclude with a conversation we had about six years ago. My dad was never sure about God, and over the years he and I would often discuss whether God existed or not. As he was approaching eighty I asked him again what he thought of God, and he said, “you know, I think I do believe in God now.”
I said "wow, what changed for you?" He said that when he looked at this immense and wonderful world, it just seemed like somebody had to create it. I agree dad. And when I look at your wonderful and loving life, I too can see the face of God.
So dad, we will all miss you. Thank you so very, very much.
