So Elijah set out from the cave on the mountain of God, and found Elisha son of Shaphat, who was plowing. There were twelve yoke of oxen ahead of him, and he was with the twelfth. Elijah passed by him and threw his mantle over him. He left the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, “Let me kiss my father and my mother, and then I will follow you.” Then Elijah said to him, “Go back again; for what have I done to you?” He returned from following him, took the yoke of oxen, and slaughtered them; using the equipment from the oxen, he boiled their flesh, and gave it to the people, and they ate. Then he set out and followed Elijah, and became his servant.
—1 Kings 1:19-21
Now when the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven by a whirlwind, Elijah and Elisha were on their way from Gilgal. Elijah said to Elisha, “Stay here; for the Lord has sent me as far as Bethel.” But Elisha said, “As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.” So they went down to Bethel. The company of prophets who were in Bethel came out to Elisha, and said to him, “Do you know that today the Lord will take your master away from you?” And he said, “Yes, I know; keep silent.” Elijah said to him, “Elisha, stay here; for the Lord has sent me to Jericho.” But he said, “As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.” So they came to Jericho. The company of prophets who were at Jericho drew near to Elisha, and said to him, “Do you know that today the Lord will take your master away from you?” And he answered, “Yes, I know; be silent.” Then Elijah said to him, “Stay here; for the Lord has sent me to the Jordan.” But he said, “As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.” So the two of them went on. Fifty men of the company of prophets also went, and stood at some distance from them, as they both were standing by the Jordan. Then Elijah took his mantle and rolled it up, and struck the water; the water was parted to the one side and to the other, until the two of them crossed on dry ground.
When they had crossed, Elijah said to Elisha, “Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you.” Elisha said, “Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit.” He responded, “You have asked a hard thing; yet, if you see me as I am being taken from you, it will be granted you; if not, it will not.” As they continued walking and talking, a chariot of fire and horses of fire separated the two of them, and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven. Elisha kept watching and crying out, “Father, father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!” But when he could no longer see him, he grasped his own clothes and tore them in two pieces.
He picked up the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and went back and stood on the bank of the Jordan. He took the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and struck the water, saying, “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” When he had struck the water, the water was parted to the one side and to the other, and Elisha went over. When the company of prophets who were at Jericho saw him at a distance, they declared, “The spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha.” They came to meet him and bowed to the ground before him. They said to him, “See now, we have fifty strong men among your servants; please let them go and seek your master; it may be that the spirit of the Lord has caught him up and thrown him down on some mountain or into some valley.” He responded, “No, do not send them.” But when they urged him until he was ashamed, he said, “Send them.” So they sent fifty men who searched for three days but did not find him. When they came back to him (he had remained at Jericho), he said to them, “Did I not say to you, Do not go?”
—2 Kings 2:1-17
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[Name] was born in [City], Oklahoma on November 16, 1921 to [name of his father] and [name of his mother]. He died in his home, in [City], Washington, just after midnight on Tuesday, February 12, 2008. He was 86 years old. He lived a long life that was filled with amazing stories and experiences, many of which seem almost unreal. As he himself writes, “Just by luck I am still here. I must have nine lives like a cat.” He wrote that twelve years ago.
He was left alone on the family farm at the age of eleven, when his father and stepmother died within two weeks of one another from pneumonia, and his six siblings went to live with other relatives. He tended a small garden, hunted squirrels, and relied on the charity of neighbors and his uncle [name]. At the age of fifteen, he came to Washington state with his sister [name], her husband [name], and their children. The following year, he lied about his age in order to join the Civilian Conservation Corps. He helped with the construction of Millersylvania Park in Olympia, Washington. In May 1942, his draft notice arrived. He joined the Army as a paratrooper of the 82nd Airborne Division, [battalion number] Battalion, Company [company number]. He made jumps with his company in North Africa, Sicily, Italy, and France before being captured by the Germans on D-Day. He was a prisoner of war until liberated by the Russians on the last day of January 1945, and released to American forces two months later. Shortly after his return to the United States, he married the love of his life, [name], and had three children. He worked as a rigger in the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard, and could tie amazing knots rather quickly.
He was an Okie who traveled to Washington in the wakes of the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl. And, even though Okie is a derisive term, he owned it. He was, in my estimation, a man of the frontier in many ways.
He was part Native American, something that the family kept quiet for many years, but that informed his rugged handsomeness.
He loved to read westerns, especially Louis L'Amour.
He loved yodeling—both to listen to and to attempt on his own. He liked country and western and bluegrass music. He liked to dance. He could hoot like no one else I know, while he raised and wiggled his brow. Woo woo!
He could make a blade of grass whistle when he held it in his hands and blew upon it. He had a scar on one hand from a pop bottle that exploded near him. He had a scar on his other hand from where he almost accidentally chopped his thumb off with a hatchet. He survived the explosion of a building in Italy.
He was a jack-of-all-trades. He fixed Volkswagens. He repaired bicycles. He gardened. He pruned and sold Christmas trees. Many of you in this room have had one of his trees in your home during the holidays. He fished for trout and salmon. He liked to camp. He traveled around the United States with my grandmother, visiting friends and family and war buddies.
He was awarded the Purple Heart and POW Medal, among many others, for his military service. He was an unashamed Democrat. He disliked Ronald Reagan and both George Bushes as presidents. He thought that they were too conservative, too unfair to the poor and marginalized, and too quick to go to war to solve problems. Having fought in a war, he hoped that his children and grandchildren would never have to see combat. And, he felt that his service to his country gave him every right to criticize the policies of the country that he had fought for. He was a proud American.
Recently, I've heard whispering of his sinful side as well. He was mischievous as a youth, quite often getting into trouble with his best friend [name]. He set fire to a pile of leaves in the garage of his childhood home with his brother [name]. He was an accomplice to violence, even if he didn't participate in it, and that is uncertain. He did, for instance, hide the brass knuckles used in an unfair fight. I have witnessed his dark side, too. Although he rarely got angry, when he did, then “watch out!” My brother and some of my cousins can definitely attest to this. But for the most part, he was quiet and gentle.
He said that the favorite period of his life was “married life. [I] enjoyed [name] your grandma, sons [name] and [name], and [name]. And, most all my grandkids. [I] had more time to see them grow.” He loved his family, and he especially loved his wife [name]. They were married for fifty-seven years until her death in June 2003.
He was father, grandfather, great-grandfather; brother and son; neighbor, coworker, baseball coach; soldier, rigger, Christmas tree farmer, congregant at [name] Methodist Church. I look out at the faces in this room and I see stories and memories and good times shared with my grandfather. His life was lived well.
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Eulogy is by Troy's Work Table and was delivered to a full funeral home at the paternal grandfather's funeral service. The picture was taken by Troy's Work Table at the same.
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