Pasted below is the text of the eulogy. I am taking a class on the power of the spoken word, so rather than edit this so that it reads more like a book, I will leave in the punctuation Patty included to help her read it aloud:
Good Morning. My name is Patty, I’m Jack’s oldest daughter. The family asked me to represent them and read this remembrance of Dad. If you know [our] propensity for crying, we’d like to reassure you that [the church] has taken out additional flood insurance!
This is not a sad day. We are gathered to celebrate an extraordinary life. There will be tears, of course, but we hope to engender tears of joy, tears of your fondest memories of your grandfather, your Uncle, or your friend.. If you are sad, please try to put on a smile…it may help you to remember the humor, fun, and zest for life that Dad brought to everything he did… Just think of him stuck in a river....running out of gas....losing his false teeth....or hunting without a gun. The day after Dad died, an old friend of his called and said, “Your Dad was one of a kind.” We have laughed and cried as we have recounted the stories that make up my Dad’s life…. We invite you to join us…
My father was a good and generous man who derived great pleasure from helping others. He was known to drop off a box of gifts for a needy family, stick a check in the mail for a friend in need, or even slip an unmarked envelope full of cash through someone’s mail slot. He even opened his home to inner city kids, a Turkish exchange student, two Ethiopian sailors, a convalescent Grandpa Peirce, several cousins and other family members in need, and a seminary student who is now a parish priest in Louisville, KY. >>>>
Dad’s generosity also emerged in his business life. As a family friend remarked, “[His company] is not just a business, it’s a ministry.” Countless out-of-work friends and family members, qualified or not, found temporary financial refuge and fellowship in [his business]… and that legacy is being carried on by his son. Many a worker found that refuge while riding in a schmutz-stained yellow pick-up truck that tilted perilously toward the curb and usually had a ladder SORT OF tied on top. Naturally, Dad’s comment about the sort-of-tied on ladder would be to say…
“Good enough.”
He had always been a man of faith, but it was through his involvement in the Cursillo movement – a Christian retreat [weekend] -- that his faith became more than just belief -- it became action. That’s what Mom says about Dad’s Christianity—he didn’t just talk it....he lived it. It was also [here] that Dad honed his stand-up comedy act. Many a Sunday morning -- with one or two
of his kids in tow -- he would loosen up the crowd, while wearing a monk costume, with a couple of (now infamous) jokes. After the jokes, he would share his perceptions about the Christian life.. Jack helped others become more faithful, because they could see how he lived as a Christian and how the Lord helped him to be a more effective husband, father, and friend. The following is an excerpt taken from one of the talks Dad gave to a new Cursillo group: ”I have learned that people will be more impressed by what we are [and] by the way we live and act…the joy inside has a way of showing itself.” Dad simply did his best, and he put his trust in God.
If you knew him, you saw it. [gesture]
When you walked through the door [of his home], you were likely to be greeted with a good-natured insult,…. a painful handshake, ….or ….“You don’t have to go home>>>but you can’t stay here.”
Those who knew him well knew also knew of his gentle, loving, nature. You didn’t have to know him long to see past the thin veneer of the raucous jokester....to the heart of a tender, compassionate, caring man. Jack’s inherent soft-hearted sensitivity made him a faithful son,
brother, husband, father, grandfather, and friend. If you felt it deeply, Dad felt it deeply too. If it was important to you, it was important to him. If it was a heart rending story, he cried; if it was
a happy story,… he cried.
Papa was fiercely proud of his family and his 27 grandchildren. Let me introduce you to his legacy… (Those who are here, as I call your name, please stand) Sean Michael, John Warren, Stephen Michael, Sean Paul, Joshua Joseph, Amanda Beth, Conor James, Joseph Paul, Jonathan Richard, Rebekah Hope, Liam Francis, Lydia Faith, Emma Elizabeth, Abigail Christie Louise, Anna Rose, Aidan Peirce, Jacob Peirce, Katherine Grace, Haley Elizabeth, Josiah Paul,
Mary Margaret, Thomas Stephen, Shannon Mercy, Susannah Patience, Alison Kate, Hanneke Joy & Elizabeth Leslie Joy. As Papa would say, “That’s a good start!!“
The following was written my son, Joshua, representing the grandchildren…
Although I do not carry the name of [my grandfather], I have the same “mutated” genes as my grandfather. On an early morning bike ride through town one day, I was pulled over by a cop who wanted to know why I wasn’t in school. I started explaining that I was home schooled when
he stopped me and asked, “Are you [related to Jack]”? I told him that my mother
was [his daughter], in which he responded by saying,
“I thought so… you look just like your grandfather.”
When we were younger, we would all sit around in a half circle, waiting for papa to pop out his false teeth. When he did, we would run screaming out of the room, only to enter timidly a few
seconds later, wanting him to do it again.
I remember one time, while I was helping him down the stairs, my grandmother stood at the bottom and called up, “Jack, hold onto the railing! You twit.” In which he responded in his usual manner, “Thanks Marilyn, I wouldn’t want to trip and fall on you…I might hurt myself.”
For those of us who were used to those comments, we knew he really was letting us know how much he loved us. Strange way to say it, I know, but in some ways it means more to me that way. Things like: “Hey! Knock it off!” One of the many popular sayings of my grandfather, in which all of the grandkids have, at one time or another tried to imitate.
“You don’t have to go home....but you can’t stay here.”
“Whaddya got, a broken leg?”
“Shut the door, you’re letting out the cold!” and
“Come back when you can’t stay so long.”
There are some things money can’t buy. Among those things are the memories, fellowship, sidesplitting laugher, and love that one experiences by knowing Jack.
I love my grandfather, and I thank God that he put me in a family with such a heritage to pass on to future generations. If I can be half the grandfather he is to me, I will die a happy man.
Over the past year or so, Dad would jokingly drop hints that he was concerned that he wasn’t going to make it to his 90’s like his brother Paul and sister Mary, and that he might not be “good
enough” to make it to heaven… As we all know, we are all less than perfect…we all say and do things we regret and fall short of loving others as Jesus has called us to do. Cari and I had little conversations with Dad when he would hint at these concerns, and we assured him many times over that Jesus” blood is more than enough to cover our sins, as today’s reading from Romans declares… “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” …since we are now brought into right relationship with God by Christ's blood, how much more [certain it is that] we shall be saved by Him. As Dad struggled to breathe in the ER, I reminded him of this. There was nothing more he could do but let go and embrace God’s promise.
We wanted you to know that Dad never lost his sense of humor. It was a source of great joy and laughter for those who cared for him and visited with him during his final days. Only a few hours
before his death, when he was unable to speak, the nurse bustled into the room and bellowed. “How you doing?” In response, Dad rolled his eyes and pretended to pass out. A comedian right to the end.
Jack could be hysterical in person and a reprise of his shortcomings is equally hysterical. From lost teeth....to falling off of roofs....to losing his rifle while hunting....the guy’s life was a
side-splitting comic/tragedy.
Most of you know that we found the family home in Arichat, Nova Scotia—the home that everyone thought had burned to the ground. John and Steve worked out the financing to make the purchase and surprised Papa in the spring of 2006. The following summer, Cari and Dad were flying through Logan airport to meet a bunch of the clan at the house on Isle Madame in Nova Scotia.
The following could only happen to Jack....
Jack hastily grabbed his fishing rod case before leaving and checked it with his suitcase when he arrived at the airport. Jack and Cari were standing in the security line, when a TSA agent called him out of the line, took him to a separate room and asked him what he was carrying in the case. Dad said, “My fishing rod.” The TSA agent opened the case to show him {PAUSE} His shot gun! He somehow escaped arrest, traveled to Nova Scotia, and a few weeks later had worked up the courage to tell Marilyn. After dabbing away tears of laughter, Mom said, “We have to tell Lloyd.”
Lloyd, Dad’s hunting buddy, listened to the story over speaker phone and laughingly suggested, “You guys oughta write a book.” The next day Mike started writing and, to date, he has completed 10 chapters recounting Jack’s misadventures. Based on the airport story I just related, the book is appropriately titled “THE ACCIDENTAL TERRORIST.” Though not yet complete, Mike is concerned that he has finished only 10 chapters of what could be 100!
This is the Preface to “The Accidental Terrorist”:
You are about to wander through page after gaffe-filled page of missteps that somehow found their way to the feet of my Father. After reading several chapters of foibles, it would be easy to
come to the conclusion that my Dad was a complete idiot. Nothing could be further from the truth. Dad was what you might call an “accident savant”. Accident prone? Yep. Forgetful? Sure. But like “Rain-man”, an absolute genius when it came to certain things. Dad, I suppose, was a real-life Rain-man meets Macgyver—he could take ordinary materials and make something brilliantly useful. A pile of scrap lumber was turned into a fantastic A-frame fort—with a sleeping loft—dubbed Jack’s Shack. How many people do you know who can build a Christmas Tree? Dad would take two horrific looking evergreens—scrawny firs that only Charlie Brown could love—and turn them into one semi-spectacular Yule tree. He would cut the boughs off of one gaunt specimen, drill holes of appropriate sizes into the other, and viola!
Humor was another way that Dad’s genius showed itself. In his younger days, there was always a joke at the ready. He had a mental rolodex of punch lines that he could, for any occasion, flip
through and deliver. In later years, it was a wallet full of business cards with punch lines, followed by a few years of sorting through e-mails and forwarding the internet’s best. It’s a gift, the ability to make someone laugh, and Dad used his gift effectively to warm up a client, lighten a situation, or make a friend.
Dad was a genius with people. Oh, I don’t suppose that everybody liked Dad – his humor wasn’t welcomed by everyone—but most were intoxicated by his easy-going sense of fun and light-hearted approach to most of life’s challenges. An ember in Dad’s eyes was huffed into a glowing twinkle whenever Dad was engaged in conversation.
I chronicle Dad’s life to honor him, not humiliate him. So, as you read, remember that I could not have asked for a better Father. His mistakes and shortcomings only serve to make him more
endearing, more fun to be around, more of a character, more of a myth. Great guy, great
friend, great father—if you didn’t know him you missed out. Love you Dad.
We thought we would leave you with what Dad wrote in a keepsake journal. The journal asked him to recall five of the most important lessons he had learned in life. Naturally, Dad wrote seven!
Listen to your father and mother
Be thankful for the little things
Be nice to people
Work hard
Keep a smile on your face!
Give to those who need it!
Show that you love your wife!
We would like to thank you for sharing our joy and sorrow. We invite you to join us at [the cemetary], followed by fellowship, reminiscing and refreshments at the Elks Lodge. At that time,
there will be an opportunity for those who wish to share their favorite “Jack” stories. Please join us as we continue to celebrate his amazing life.
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