Glory's eulogy for her Daddy

My dad was a very humble man. Always willing to do the behind-the-scenes work, and quietly look for life’s treasures without seeking for attention. He knew how to throw off what entangled him and take the straight and narrow path God had set for him because…

My dad was a runner.

All four years in high school he was the Kansas state champion in the mile and two-mile races. He set many records, including one that still stands. Like every other athlete, his dream was to compete in the Olympics.

In 1989 he graduated from Kansas State with degrees in engineering and secondary education in math and science. In the summer of that year he meet my mother while attending a conference in California. They were married in 1991, and together they continued to reach for the Olympic dream.

When it became obvious that he needed to choose between the Olympics and family, my dad set aside his running shoes and started running a different kind of race. This one was filled with tickle monsters, tractors rides, biscuit mornings and date nights with daughters who seemed to never stop talking; and he loved it.


My dad was an Encourager.

He encouraged others by example, and he always went to extra mile in every task he did.

With his thoughtfulness and character, my dad became the person people would turn to for any kind of help.

He did his best to never make anyone feel stupid. I remember many nights when he would sit at the table with one of my sisters or I, as we cried with frustration over math that we didn’t understand. He would patiently explain the problem over and over in different ways until we comprehended how to do it on our own.

He took the time to support his children in everything we did. He brought us to every practice, and always told us how proud of us he was. He was at every dance recital and swim meet sharing advice on reaching goals and following dreams. His favorite story to tell was the one about his 200 man.

My dad’s 200 man was a friend that would cheer for him at every two-mile race. Stationed half way from the start and finish line, he would encourage my dad to keep it up for the first seven laps and let him know if he was on pace. But on the last lap, his tasked changed slightly. Not only was he the encourager, he became my dad’s eyes and told him what was going on with the other competitors. If it was a close race, he would let my dad know when he needed to start his sprint to win the race.

My dad knew that life is a series of races, and believed that everyone should have, and be a 200 man.

On March 23, 2010 my dad crossed the finish line of his biggest race. He wasn’t the first to do it, and he won’t be the last. But he ran his race in such a way to win the prize.

Daddy, I will miss your hugs, laughter and guidance. You were an awesome role model, and the best dad anyone could ask for. You ran your race strong and you ran it well.