A Reflection of a Special Life

This week we had the funeral for my dad. We all flew into Chicago over the weekend and into the beginning of the week. After I found out that my dad had died, I tried not to think too much about it and kept busy with work and planning the funeral. Even when we got to the funeral home I kept busy with the details. The full impact of my dad being gone wasn't until the end of the funeral mass when the American flag was draped on his coffin and the organist was playing the Battle Hymm of the Republic. It was then that I realized that we lost a great man.

Tom Brokaw wrote about my dad's generation. He aptly called it "The Greatest Generation". It was a time when a people, coming out of the Great Depression were called upon to serve their country and do what needed to be done to preserve our way of life and fight the tyranny that was occurring in the world. There was no discussion about if people would go and serve their country, it was when and how. It was a time when the country was united behind one purpose and knew that failure was not an option. I fully believe that my dad and his siblings epitomized this spirit. Dad and his siblings were the perfect union of good German stock and solid American values.

While we were at my dad's funeral to mourn his death, we were also there to celebrate his life. Stories were shared about how my dad and his brothers would "raise hell" at the annual 4th of July party. I learned that the party, presented as a party to Grandma, was a thinly veiled excuse to let loose and create mayhem on an otherwise peaceful day.

Dad was buried at the Abraham Lincoln veteran's cemetery. The weather on the day of the funeral was nothing short of spectacular. The leaves, changing color were at their peak and the temperature outside was around 65 degrees. The interment at the cemetery was outside and he was interred with full military honors. It was a fitting service for a terrific man. I know dad was looking down and smiling.

One positive thing about funerals is that it forces people to get together when otherwise they wouldn't. I was able to see relatives that I haven't seen in over 20 years. since the family was so big, I realized that I had cousins I didn't even know were mine. I was introducing Tina to a few cousins and told her that they were my dad's cousins. They informed me that I was their cousin and my dad was their uncle. This was a learning trip as well !

As I have been thinking about my dad, one memory comes to mind which I believe helped me become a better father to my children:

I was in college and went to a wedding for one of my cousins. It was one of Uncle Clarence's daughters. I was probably around 19 or 20. At the wedding, my cousin, Bob offered to get me a drink at the bar. I didn't really drink then and didn't know what to order. Bob suggested I try a whiskey sour. I took it and enjoyed it. Fast forward to 7 or 8 whiskey sours later, I got pretty drunk. At the end of the wedding we all pile into the car. I was in the back seat next to Peg and Gary, who were dating at the time. I promptly passed out. Since the wedding was in Indiana, the ride back to Niles took a while. Right after we crossed the border, I got sick in the car. This by itself was pretty bad, however dad got his new Mercury 2 weeks earlier. I remember getting out of the car and needing to take my shirt off and hearing dad repeat "I can't believe my new car!" over and over.

The next morning I had to go to work. I was down stairs and dad came down later. When I saw him I said that I was so sorry and I will do anything to make it up. I knew I screwed up and was ready to accept any punishment meted out to me. My dad's response stuck with me to this day. He said the important thing is that I learned my lesson. I was blown away! He knew that me understanding the importance of not doing it again was more important than making me feel the pain of my actions. It was impactful.

I was able to put this to use recently. Madeleine was putting a leaf container in the garage and decided to put this on my car. As she placed it on the hood, she put 2 huge scratches that will never come out. I remember what my dad did and explained to Madeleine that while I wasn't happy, I knew it was an accident and she didn't mean it. I believe that demonstrating tolerance in a situation where I could have justifiably gotten angry will be more impactful that screaming at her. That, I learned from my dad.

Here's to you George. You left this earth a better place than you found it

A Tribute to My Dad

Earlier this week my dad passed away. He was 87 years old and was in a nursing home and was suffering from dementia. It was difficult to see him this way as he was a very capable man throughout his life. Logically we know he is in a better place, but it is still a shock. When a parent dies, the wall of mortality breaks down a little more and slowly realize (for better or worse) that you're next in line.

George Voss was born August 23rd, 1921 at home in Chicago. He was the 8th of 10 children. He grew up on the South Shore of Chicago, a working class neighborhood where many of the residents worked in the steel mills down the road. He enlisted in the Army Air Corp (Air Force) after Pearl Harbor. Dad was especially proud of the fact that his service # started with a 1, as this number was reserved for the men who weren't drafted. While he was in the service he met my mom, Dolores Levin. After the war they got married and moved in with my maternal grandparents. Dad was a South Sider and mom was a West Sider, so dad defected from the South Side to the West Side. After my oldest sister was born, my parents moved out to the suburbs (Niles) where they lived for 34 years. During the early years of my parent's marriage, he drove a bus. Later he got a job as a route salesman for Hawthorn Mellody Ice Cream Company. He worked as a truck driver for most of his life, with the exception of working at McCormick Place on the loading docks.


After retiring from McCormick place, dad and mom retired to Las Vegas where they lived for 15 years. This was at this time when he started to experience dementia and was subsequently moved to California to a nursing facility where he spent his final years. We were fortunate that the facility he was in was wonderful. He was well cared for and comfortable in his final years.

Here are a few things about my dad that I will always remember:

1. He could fix anything ! Growing up I lived in mortal fear that I wouldn't survive adulthood because I couldn't fix anything. My dad could do anything. We never had repair people come to the house because we didn't need them. Dad did it all. I've discovered that the most important tool in my tool box is my checkbook.
2. He tried his best. I grew up knowing that my dad did the best he could. He was far from perfect and he had issues like everyone else, but despite that he never let that get in his way of doing his best for his family.
3. Dad always made sure we were proud of where we came from. Dad would always tell us that we came from "good German stock". Mom didn't always agree that our successes didn't come only from that, but the German / Irish / Swedish mixture seemed to have worked.

If I had one regret, it was that my children didn't get to know him as well as they could have. Dad's condition started several years ago so all they remember is him in decline. Fortunately my other nieces and nephews got to know him.

We're having the funeral for him on Oct 15th. He will be buried at a veteran's cemetery outside of Chicago. It seems strangely fitting that his final resting place is on the South Side. Dad was a South Sider at heart so we think he will be pleased.