It's a day that comes every year, November 19. The day after my oldest daughter's birthday. 10 November 19th's ago, my wife's dad passed away due to complications from Liver Cancer. We have lost many friends and family members since that due to cancer and will continue to as time passes. Here are the tributes we read at his funeral.
Today is not a sad day, but one of remembering and reliving the life of a great man. Here, are thoughts from good friend Rob Hammann of rural Pella, the column that I wrote in our paper 10 years ago and thoughts from my wife and her siblings. - RS.
The Bell
by Rob Hammann
[Ding ***Ring the bell]
I get up from my chair to head up front, grumbling to myself “I hope it isn’t another grumpy customer waiting to chew
me out!”
“Oh it’s Bob!”
Bob begins telling me about his latest escapade around the mall. We laugh about how out of breath he is. He talks
about being able to run 100 yards in full football gear and not be winded. We both chuckle and reminisce about
being younger. We grab our bellies and see if we can pinch an inch. We both succeed with flying colors. His head is
shaved today he tells me how much better he looks with no hair then I do.
Bob had a great sense of humor and self-worth the kind you get from years of working the land to produce a living.
That is the kind of man Bob was.
[Ding Ding Ding*** Ring the bell]
I get up from my desk and head up front thinking, “please don’t let it be another kid hammering on the bell. That gets
old after the first 20 times.”
“Oh Good! it’s Bob!”
Bob is laughing at my reaction to the bell pounding. He shares a story about one or more of his beloved
Grandchildren. Sometimes those stories included my child. He brags on one of his children. He speaks of great
family outings such as a mean game of kickball. He tells me that at their family kickball games pants are optional.
Family was vital to Bob. That is the kind of man Bob was.
[Ding]
I get up to answer the bell “Please Lord, Please don’t let it be another salesman.”
“Hey! It’s Bob!”
Bob asks me about my wife, my son, my extended family. Bob always wants to know how I am. We discuss
theology and politics. Many times we agree sometimes we don’t.
You see, the true measure of a man is gathered in the simple nuances of his speech and conversation. If you listen
close to Bob you begin to understand the man he is.
There was never any question where Bob’s heart was. He loved others. That is the kind of man Bob was.
[Ding]
I get up from my desk “Hey, maybe it’s Bob”
Bob isn’t there. I won’t get another chance to visit with Bob about things of importance to both of us. I won’t get a
chance to tell Bob how thankful I am that he took my family under his wing when we were new to the community. I
won’t get a chance to tell Bob how much his family has influenced my life.
The bell is silent now….But that is OK. Bob didn’t need to ring a bell to announce his entrance to heaven on Sunday
Evening. Instead, Heavens gates opened wide and Bob was able to run into the arms of His and my Savior. He was
able to hear the words that we all long to hear “Well done my good and faithful servant…Well Done!”
You see, for me, this bell will serve as a reminder as to the kind of man Bob was. It will also serve as a reminder of
the kind of man I want to be.
[Ding]
Thanks for the example of how to be a man Bob!
Comments from Ryan and me
First I read a column Ryan had written as his weekly column, From the Cheap Seats.
From the Cheap Seats: See you on the other side
I write a weekly column titled ‘from the cheap seats’ for our newspaper in Tipton that usually takes a slant of why a particular team didn’t win, what they need to do to win, or why they will never win. About a year ago I wrote about Bob, and likened his battle with cancer with a battle on the football field against powerhouse USC from the Pac-10. USC at the time was by far the best team in college football, accumulating nearly 500 yards of offense per game.
When I left off last time, just after Bob’s emergency brain surgery, Bob’s team wasn’t doing so hot. You could say USC had scored four times in the first half and at halftime the score stood 28-0. Bob was looking for a jump-start, a second wind. In the second half, following recovery from the surgery, Bob got his second wind and he started scoring right away. Walking at the mall again, celebrating his 60th birthday and 40th anniversary, and enjoying life with Linda, family and friends.
I don’t know how to classify the final score, it might seem that Bob never defeated the dominate USC opponent – Bob’s physical defenses were spread too thin and he kept being burned by the USC offense. He didn’t quit though, and as the final horn sounded, he was the real winner. Games come and go as does life, and when it ends you go on. Bob is in a better place today. Why you ask? Because he told me. I’ll get to that in a moment.
In March he was gracious to allow me to interview him. He told me about growing up just North of Oskaloosa. He told me about his football days at Oskaloosa where he earned All-State honors as a senior and his choice that led him to choose Wayne State in Nebraska to play football.
He also told me about how faith was important to him. He couldn’t remember not going to church and he had a fondness for gospel music. He considered Sunday the Lord’s day and rarely did farm work or much work of any sort on Sunday, instead spending time with family or resting. But you ask how I know he is in a better place and I say this. Bob accepted Jesus Christ as his savior when he was younger. That decision sealed the deal. He signed a lifetime contract to play for the Lord’s team that day regardless of how many USC’s he played.
I met Bob on October 21st, 1997. You may ask why I know that so well, I would tell you that it was also the day that I had my first kind-of-date with my wife. It was a Saturday, and Melinda invited me to go to Ankeny for their annual Iowa Marching Band Championships where her sister Jodi was one of the drum majors. We, along with two other friends packed a car and headed to the competition. After getting over the fact that there is an ‘Eddyville-Blakesburg’ cheering section decked out in black and gold, Melinda introduced me to her mom and dad. I remember the moment because they both had on the same coat – a Golden Sun Feed one.
As the show progressed I had fun watching the bands, but what awaited was nothing I expected. As the Rocket marching band came out the home contingent of 40-50 people all stood, many with cow bells. Taken aback, since at BGM we didn’t go to ‘Band Championships’ let alone have cheering cow-bell serenades before we took the field, I looked around and saw Bob and Linda shaking their bells with all their might. He was proud. Proud of his kids, their success and was there for them when they stumbled, even if it was tough love at times. Later, he told me that he liked spending time with the grandkids as they were the future. Another time that I remember is the days before his very first surgery. Melinda and I were in the process of selling our house as we were in transition to Tipton. We had a special friend, a groundhog, move in and create a big hole in our yard. We tore up the porch and after trying to trap the animal, Bob had an idea to give him a special drink, one
that he wouldn’t forget. Needless to say, our problem ended, but another one remained. The groundhog wreaked havoc on our porch and now we had to fix it, which more or less meant that we needed to build a new one.
The day and night before his first surgery he was a part of a contingent of family and friends that helped put in a new porch at our house. Here he was, facing a major operation, and all he could do was think about our need. More so, he and the contingent know that I am not much with tools in my hand.
The next day, Thursday August 18th, 2005, he had his first surgery to remove a kidney, adrenal glands and a tumor the size of a football.
The last thing that I want to say about Bob, happened this past summer. It was the one time Melinda, Bob and I went to Penn Central to pick something up at ArrowQuick. Melinda went her way and Bob and I waited on a nearby bench. As we watched people walking here and there, one of the people that passed by was the publisher from the paper here. I said to Bob, do you know who that is? He said no, and I said that is the publisher of the paper here. He said oh. A few more people passed and I decided to go see how Melinda was coming along. Needing more time, I left and went back to keep Bob company. I sat down and he said, you know that guy you told me about from the paper? I said yes, did you talk to him? He looked at me and said, “I asked him if he had ever read the Sports pages
in the Tipton Conservative. He said no,” and then Bob said, “that’s too bad, they have the best sports pages in the state,”
We are all here today for some reason. Bob had an impact on all of us, whether we are his wife, daughter, son, son-in-law, daughter-in-law….,grandchild, friend, or acquaintance. We pay our respect to a man that left his mark in our lives and made the journey of life not so hard. We are sad, happy, and sad some more, but if we choose the Lord’s team, we’ll see him again on the other side.
Thank you for this opportunity and may God bless you all.
Now I want to share a few things from us kids. First, Mom we all love you very much and with everyone, we’re sorry for your loss and we look forward to you meeting Dad in heaven someday. We’re also confident that you’ll find a good chapter of life ahead of you.
As I think of what I want to share of how we feel about Dad, Love is the first thought. All of us have a great deal of love and admiration for our Dad and we’d say that even if it wasn’t his funeral. He was truly the best man we’ve known.
Second, we are thankful. We may not have been rich with materials, but we had all we needed. Our family was mostly fun. Dad helped us have fun even while cleaning hog houses, walking beans, baling hay, and more. I know that its hard to believe those things could be fun, but they can be – though they weren’t always. One time I was driving the truck while Dad was unloading hay – I was afraid of driving and didn’t enjoy doing it. I always thought I’d mess up and cause a big problem. Well, I guess I started going a little too fast and Dad told me to slow down. As it turned out, I slowed a bit too quickly and made Dad fall toward the back of the truck. He decided to take it a bit
further than a simple fall onto the top of the cab – he let his torso and head come all the way over so he was looking into the cab and he closed his eyes and let the knife he was using to cut the twine on the bales fall dramatically out of his hands. Just as I started to feak out thinking I’d injured or killed my Dad, he started laughing and said to hit the breaks a little more softly.
Our family also enjoyed games as a family. We played baseball on the farm using trees and other objects as bases.
One 4th of July after mom and dad moved to Osky, we decided to have a family kickball tournament in the back yard. Earlier Dawn’s letter talked about Dad playing with the kids and really running the bases. He did that even when he was 58 and playing kickball with his kids and grandkids. And we’re sure glad he did because it provided a great deal of laughter. Dad running wasn’t so funny, it was his shorts. He’d been having some issues with the elastic in the shorts and he’d been pulling them up frequently. One time, as he rounded third base…the shorts started to fall, but he didn’t have time to spare and catch them…so, well, down they went and he ended up crossing the plate in his underwear! And if I remember correctly, the underwear wasn’t his very best pair!
Games and farm work could be fun with Dad and so could terminal cancer. As his children we’re so thankful for his humor and courage throughout his illness. Dad could chuckle and make jokes even when he couldn’t stand or sit on his own!
Finally we’re thankful to Dad for the amazing way he loved each of us. On July 1 2005 I was with Mom and Dad as the doctor explained to us that Dad’s cancer was terminal and there was nothing that could be done about it – he was going to die. While I wanted to find a way to escape the room and the reality, I remember Dad saying when he was asked if he wanted to travel to Besthada, Maryland for treatment at the special cancer center. He said, “If I’m going to die, and it looks like I may…I want to die here with my family.” And that is exactly what he did on Sunday night. We were all there in his final moments and we’re thankful to Dad for his courage and peace in the end of his
life. Thank you Dad, we love you.
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