Garrison Keillor tells the story about his terminally ill aunt and how she said that, "I hate that I will miss my own funeral and not get to hear the nice things that people will say about me." And Garrison agrees, adding, "And she's right, it is a shame to miss your own funeral. And to come so close to it, only missing it by a couple of days." Jackie O'Shea, the main character in the movie Waking Ned Devine, further exemplifies this point when he says in the eulogy for his friend, "The words that are spoken at a funeral are spoken too late for the man who is dead. What a wonderful thing it would be to visit your own funeral. To sit at the front and hear what was said, maybe say a few things yourself." But that isn't the way things are done, not yet anyway. But in the spirit of "better late than never", I'm going to tell you about my uncle.
The easy thing to say about my uncle is that he is a big man. But to be much more accurate, he is a big man with an even bigger heart. Most of you know that my brother Ed and I were adopted into the family, but that never made a difference to Tom. We were every bit his nephews from day one, and along with Keifer and Sarah, and even the children of his friends, Raymond, Bradley, Butch and LuAnne, we were the children he was never able to have. He spoke to others of all of us with the pride of not just an uncle, or a parent's friend, but with just about as much pride as the parents themselves.
Shakespeare tells us that all the world's a stage. And if that is true, we all know where Tommy's stage was, the bowling alley. Whether it be bowling in one of many leagues in several centers across town, the travel league, annual trips to Springfield, Tulsa, and his favorite, the annual pilgrimage to wherever the ABC National tournament was being held that year, Tom felt quite at home in any center, anywhere. Not only was the bowling alley his home away from home, but in many ways, it was his home. The many people he bowled with, many that are here today, were every bit as much his family as I am. Tom shared his love of bowling with my brother and I, including a love for the bowling alley nearest and dearest to his heart, Seneca Lanes. A place where I tell people I grew up, and incidentally, what I still consider to be the best place I ever bowled. He taught Ed and I how to keep score back in the good ol' days when it was done by hand, a lost art in this day of electronic scoreboards. Once we had it down, we'd get to go to the Lanes with him on occasion and keep score for that night's session, making a couple of bucks from the guys. And back in the early 80's, a couple of bucks was quite a bit to a couple of 9 and 10 yr old kids.
My uncle loved to laugh. An easy picture to bring to mind is Uncle Tom with that great big ear-to-ear smile he had whenever he'd laugh. He could find humour in just about any situation. He managed to find funny things in less than normal places. I remember a record album he had that my brother and I loved to play when we would visit. The album had songs such as, Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah, Please Mr. Custer, May the Bird of Paradise Fly Up Your Nose, and two songs that could have been Tommy's theme songs during his younger years, Hot Rod Lincoln and Beep Beep (The Nash Rambler Song). Of course, Bird of Paradise was our favorite, as anything flying up your nose is great fun to little boys. Uncle Tom was also among the most open-minded people I knew when it came to music. He would listen to just about anything once, and would find something he liked about it. I had the pleasure of going to two ABC National tournaments with him, and in '94 we were going to Mobile, Alabama with I think Tom Beggs and a so far unknown/unremembered 4th person with us. And much to their chagrin I'm sure, I introduced Tom to both Laurie Anderson and Enya's Shepherd Moon album and both Tom and ? were forced to listen to something I'm sure they'd never heard before, nor likely listened to since. Incidentally, the next year Tom and I drove to Reno for Nationals, and he took great pride in bragging how he was the old man speeding, and I was the young'un holding close to the speed limit.
Uncle Tom loved to travel. When Sarah and I were there, he was telling us how somebody had recently said to him, "It's too bad you are sick now that you are retired because you can't travel. And his reply as he told us was, "I travelled more before retiring than most people do after." With annual trips to wherever Nationals was being held, the annual jaunts to Tulsa and Springfield for their bowling tournaments, and a few non-bowling vacation trips, I'm quite positive there isn't much of this country Uncle Tom didn't see. And short of over-the-road truck drivers, there are few people who have covered more miles. When we were quite little, my family, Tom and Grandpa and Grandma loaded up the blue van (which almost everyone here knows well) and headed for Florida. Now while I can't tell you exactly where we were when this happened, but one of Tom's favorite memories of this trip occured on the way there. We were in a big line of cars on a two-lane highway and Tom didn't like to follow when he drove, he liked to lead. So when the way seemed clear, he decided to pass his way all the way to the front. There are some Nascar people who would be impressed with this pass. He just stayed in the oncoming lane and kept passing cars. My dad kept counting, I think my mom and Grandparents started praying, and Tom didn't get back in our lane until he had passed 43 cars! I don't know if Guinness keeps a record for most cars passed in one attempt, but I'd put this one up there against anyone else.
In 1984, Ed and I again went on vacation with Tom and Grandpa and Grandma. This time we took a tour of the northern part of the country. We drove out from Wichita and headed for Mount Rushmore, then crossed over to Yellowstone National Park. I was sick that day and you could have followed us by the little piles my stomach left along the way. I also left my retainer on that stretch of road somewhere. After Yellowstone, we headed towards the Great Salt Lake, then spent another few days in Denver, CO, and finally back home. Some of the fun of the trip was mostly Ed, and maybe a little from myself, "are we there yet?" and getting passed by a tumbleweed in Montana as we tried to stay in front of a storm. Tommy was a great Uncle. Ed and I would often spend the night and try to convince Tom (not that it was ever too hard) to let us stay up way past our bedtime. So we'd get him to turn on MTV and he'd say that when a song comes on that none of us liked, he'd turn it off and we'd have to go to sleep. This would become the potato chip version of MTV watching, "just one more video...one more video...." But, Tom could still be the adult if Ed and I made him. He once caught us watching a movie that Mom had specifically told us we shouldn't watch, an 80's horror flick called The Tourist Trap, and he turned us in. It is a slight understatment that Mom was a little bit upset, as I recall she at least cancelled the movie channels on our home cable, if not cancelled cable altogether. I'll probably be in trouble again for reminding her of it.
Of course, Tom was not just my Uncle. He was my mother's brother. Sarah and I are very fortunate in that we had just stopped and seen Tom just a couple of Mondays ago on our way thru town heading south to TX. We sat on the porch and visited for about an hour. Little did any of us know that this would be a final visit. But during that time, he told a story about how Mom and her best friend Gayle intentionally (his words) put the foot stool in his path so he would trip over it when he came home. And sure enough, he kicked his shin against it, then kicked the footstool into the dining room. Mom's version is of course different, she swears that neither she, nor Gayle, put the footstool there and that it was pure happenstance that put it there. My favorite story that Tom told about the two of them growing up is how my mother would get him in trouble, even when she was the instigator. While the whys of this escape my memory, Tom would tell how she once hit him in the head with a hammer, then she fell to the ground crying which got grandma yelling at Tom until she noticed that he was the one bleeding. Perfectly normal siblings in almost every sense of the word.
My Mom told me her favorite memory. It was Uncle Tom that introduced my mother to alcohol. Since Grandma didn't allow alcohol in the house, my uncle kept a well-stocked bar in the trunk of his old Mercury Marquis. When he thought my mom old enough to begin drinking, he took her out to the car, told her what she could have, the spiced run, what she couldn't have, the rest of it, and how to mix a rum and coke. On one particular day when Grandpa and Grandma were gone, mom had made her a drink and was working at the sewing machine when my grandparents came back home. Grandma saw mom's coke, saying, "I sure am thirsty, I'd sure like a drink of that coke." Before grandma got to her, Mom picked up the drink, slammed it down and said, "Sorry Mom, I was really thirsty, but I'll make you another one." Her and Tom shared knowing, and relieved looks as she headed towards the kitchen.
That is one view of the man we come here on this day to say goodbye. At this time, Nancy is going to come and tell you about the man she calls not only her husband's best friend, but her big brother as well.
(His friend Nancy spoke for the friends)
Closing Words (John)
All men are immortal. For as long as we have friends that speak well of us, and remember us well, we do not die. Sleep well Tommy, until we meet again.
Delivered 7/25/2006
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