Tribute 7

I still remember the time so vividly when I was younger, and we were coming home from Georgia.  It was pouring down rain, and traffic had slowed to a crawl along the highway.  Most of us were dozing as we watched the water stream down the windows.  Suddenly, without saying anything, Pop swerved over to the shoulder of the road and put the car in park.  I popped-up from the back seat to see what was going on.  We never pulled off to the side of the road due to heavy rain, in fact sometimes we sped-up.  There was a car parked on the shoulder of the road in front of us with its four-ways on, and it was leaning precariously toward the one side.  Leaving the car running, Pop opened his door and slowly walked up to the car.  I could see him talking to whoever was sitting in the car, and they handed him something.  He walked around to the rear of their car and opened the trunk.  Moving some things around, he pulled out the spare tire and jack, and took them around the side of the car.  Over the next few minutes, Pop’s hands worked like a well-oiled machine as he threw the jack under the car and raised it into the air.  He swapped the flat tire out with a new inflated tire, and making sure that all the bolts were tightened, he lowered the car.  He placed the flat tire, and jack, neatly back in their trunk, shut the lid, and walked back to their window.  I could see him shaking his head, and simply extending his hand for a handshake.  Opening the driver’s door of our car, he slid into his seat soaking wet.  Mom handed him a t-shirt that we had found laying on the floor, and he wiped his face, looked in the side mirror, and pulled back out into traffic.

That is a simple example of how Pop lived his life.  His love for others radiated in everything that he did, and dictated his actions.  This love that he showed had been learned.  Pop’s love, and life, were influenced by the example that he found in Christ, and the love that he experienced from that relationship.

The day after Pop passed away, we opened his Bible and it fell open to a verse that he had highlighted many years ago, and one that meant a great deal to him.  Interestingly enough, it a verse that had significant influence on Joel during his time in Australia, before we knew of Pop’s illness.  The verse is Phillipians 1:21:  “To live is Christ, to die is gain.”  These words were written by the Apostle Paul when he was imprisoned.  Paul didn’t know whether he would live or die, but he was confident, and hopeful in either outcome.  The same rang true in Pop’s life.  The love that was shown to him by Christ, propelled him to live in such a way that was honoring to Him.  He found joy in serving, and life in loving others.  Whether it was washing dishes, building houses, riding bike, or caring for his family, Pop did it to the very best of his ability as if doing it for the Lord. 

And he did it with so few words.  Rather than talking about what he felt he should do, he did it.  He lived his life as an example.  Many of the ways that he touched each one of our lives was through his actions, not his words.  He allowed Christ to work through him to show love, compassion, peace, strength, and humility. 

Through this whole experience, an amazing testimony was the fact that Pop never feared death.  He wanted to fight this disease with all his strength, and believed full-well that Christ could miraculously take his disease away, but ultimately he wanted to see God glorified, and he wasn’t afraid to die.  Walking along-side of him, I was in awe of his courage and peace.  How could he face death with a smile on his face, and gratefulness in his heart?  I’ve found that Pop understood the part of Philippians 1:21, “to die is gain.”  He didn’t want to leave us, but he also knew the joy of what awaited him.  The neatest thing is that we can all have that same hope.  When we know Christ as our savior there is nothing we have to fear, not even death itself.  Rather, death is a home-going.  One of the most beautiful gifts of knowing Christ, is getting to spend eternity with him. 

So, for Pop, living for Christ meant becoming His hands here on earth.  His actions spoke volumes of the God he served, and exemplified the love that he had for people.  But, when it came time for him to say goodbye to life on this earth, he gained more than we can fathom. 

We can’t thank you enough Pop for teaching us all that you could in your time here.  Thank you for teaching us to work hard, and to love others.  To show grace, and to be a friend.  To find our foundation in a relationship with the Maker who sacrificed it all.  Thank you for being a father, a best friend, a neighbor and a colleague.  You taught us how to live…and in the end…you taught us how to die. 

We will miss you Pop, but you are never far from us; and we will see you again soon.

Tribute 6

Tribute given by Joel:

     As we sat in the silent room the night of dads passing with only the noise of sniffling noses and Emma’s occasional call for someone to come play with her, there was a flood of memories that seemed to be endless. And with tears still streaming down our faces we began to share some of our fondest memories of dad, the one story  that I was not proud of, but showed the great character dad had, was the story of dads most recent truck, the one in which he had dreamed about for quite some time. After the purchase of this truck just a few months later I received my license, and with my jeep not yet road worthy, that meant I was going to be driving the truck. A young boy with a lead foot was probably not the ideal person behind the wheel of dads new purchase, and just a few months after I began driving it the tires were warn bare, and as dad got new tires put on all he said with a little chuckle was, “looks like someone has been getting on the gas a little too hard…” and then a few weeks  after the tire change I was leaving one of my friends houses late one evening, and backed the truck into their mailbox, as my heart sank all I could think about was what dad was going to say? The worst nightmare for any kid is the anticipation of what is to come, so as I slowly drove home taking some back roads killing some time, in hopes that dad might be in bed by the time I got home. But wouldn’t you know it, as I return home and quietly open the front door dad walks out into the kitchen and says, “hey bud, your home late.” Great here was the moment of truth I thought, “Dad I have to tell you something…. With the pause and the look on my face he knew something was coming, waiting for me to go on he stood there with a half grin, thinking to himself, oh boy, what did Joel get himself into this time. And then it came, I shyly said, “I backed your truck up into a mailbox tonight, there is a dent and a pretty nice sized scratch.” He paused for a second that seemed like an eternity and said, “Well did you learn your lesson.” I was taken back, I just put a dent and a big scratch on this truck he loved so much, and he was worried if I had learned my lesson.

     That story pretty much sums up how good I have it, the best parents a kid could ask for. And I believe that God could not have blessed me with a better dad. For those of you that know dad, you know the great man he was. He was a man that could overcome any obstacle, and one to do it with great humility. Some of you are asking yourselves how I turned out so different… that is still unanswered (pause for a roaring laugh).  There are so many things that I have learned from him, so many things I could never forget. Not only did he teach me how to use my hands, he taught me what it was to have a true relationship with the Lord. When they say your earthly father is supposed to be a representation of your heavenly father, this description could have not been more fitting for dad. Dad was a man that led by example, his relationship with the lord was so evident just through his actions, Dad was a man of few words, but when he spoke he had a way of quieting a room. The life he lived so deliberately was one of complete servant hood. When something needed to be done, he was the first one there and never expected anything in return.

     As I spent these last few months with dad, there was so much that I was able to learn about life. When we first learned of the diagnosis, there were so many questions that I was hit with. One day as dad and I were driving I looked over and asked, “Dad if you could do anything over again, what would it be?” With a few seconds passing dad answered, “You know, I lived a full life, and I wouldn’t change anything.” Part of me just thought maybe he was saying this, until he followed up with saying, “God has blessed me, I was fortunate enough to do everything I wanted to, and now I have seen all my kids grow up to be the individuals I knew they could be.” With a tear making its way down my cheek I gently said, “So what are we going to do about this whole situation?” dad responded reassuringly, “I’ll fight it with all I have and leave the rest in the Lords hands.” Over the next few months dad’s strength slowly slipped away from him, even in his weakest moments, dad was still the strongest man I ever knew. I love You Dad

Tribute 5

Tribute given by Mom:

There is a quote by Mother Teresa that says:

“They may see the good you do as self serving, continue to do good.

They may see your generosity as grandstanding, continue to be generous.

They may see your warm and caring nature as a weakness, continue to be warm and caring….for you see, in the end,

It is between you and God. It always was”

Ken always had a clear perspective on this, he was happiest in the background quietly doing what needed to be done, no need for recognition for him. At some point in our discussion about his wanting to donate his body for medical research he said you know you do not have to have a service for me, or if you do make it a small one. I told him that I hope that there are holes in the floor of heaven, and we would have a service about him but not really for him as he will be celebrating in Heaven with his brother Dale and all those that have gone before him.

As we prepared for this service and I thought of what to share memories came flooding back!

A note in my mailbox at Philhaven where we were both working when I first met Ken. “Service cannot become slavery to one who loves” his way of encouraging me to take a position that I had been offered in New York City at Heartsease Home, and all the memories of times spent with the young women I worked with there, and much of our dating time.

Ken’s trepidation at becoming a father, which quickly disappeared when Megan was born and Megan had him wrapped around her little finger from the time he first held her. Nothing gave him greater joy then spending time with his children, he was so proud of each of you.  With the addition of PJ and then Emma he would talk about how blessed we are to have a family that loves the Lord and each other.

The years spent volunteering in Americus, GA where we saw God work in amazing ways, life long friendships were made, a new Mennonite church was started and we even had former Pres. Jimmy Carter as our SS teacher for 6 months.

Years of working with the youth group here at our church, Ken was happiest when he had work to do or he was helping to organize and lead missions trips, not just for our youth group, but for other churches and organizations. W. Virginia, several trips to Nicaragua, Guatemala, Jamaica, several Habitat projects and helping at Mennonite Disaster sites.

So this time has been a time of much laughter and many tears! As we ran Ken’s race we were moved and touched by the good wishes and stories  that allowed us to take a walk down memory lane and for Ken to hear the stories of how his life and quiet faith had encouraged others in their faith walk. We were blessed by those of you that came and sat with us and shared in music, prayers, and quiet moments of reading the Bible, and the other important book – “PA Game News”.

This has been a precious time of savoring each day, both the good and not so good days a time of sharing our deepest feelings as we were keenly aware that this time may be all we have. Reflecting on God’s leading in our lives and how all of our days are numbered, and telling the stories of how God preserved Ken’s life during the “Tet” offensive in Vietnam where his household were the only American’s that were not killed or captured in the city of “Hue”. And when he and his friend Paul rode motorcycle through Afghanistan and due to some unusual circumstances were stoned by a nomadic tribe and then ended up in prison, a time when again God preserved their lives. While in prison the chief of police read through Ken’s Bible in 3 days and they had a chance to discuss the differences between the Bible and the Koran, the chief had many questions and ask if he could keep the Bible. Only after they left the country did they find out that proselytizing was punishable by death at that time, again seeing God’s hand of protection.

We are also so grateful for all of you who joined us on this journey, your love, support and prayers continue to be the wings beneath our feet.

The best qualities of Ken he leaves behind in each of our children,

 Megan, you have your father’s quiet, gentle spirit, quietly working in the background, happy to not be in the limelight. You parent in the same way he did with love, patience and joy!

Joshua, you have your father’s tender, compassionate heart, you always see the need around you and respond, you have his work ethic that any job worth doing is worth doing right!

Joel, you have your father’s courage, tenacity, and compassionate heart, you tackle any new project that needs done with the same thought that your father had “I should be able to figure this out”.

And Tina, our honorary daughter, Ken loved you and was so proud of the woman you have become, he appreciated your honesty, your strong work ethic, your honest search to know God and your fun loving spirit.

So, I will continue to see glimpses of Ken in each of you as you walk out your faith in the paths God calls you to.  He was so proud of each of you!

Tribute 4

Tribute given by PJ Savage (Pop's Son-In-Law):

When I think about Ken I’m reminded of a part of the Gospel of Matthew where Jesus is teaching in the temple.  His audience is astounded at what they were hearing.  To that point the people had only heard about how bad they were and how much they were sinning.  Jesus’ words were now giving them hope.  A teacher of the law, a Pharisee asked Jesus a question.

He asked, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’

This was how Ken lived his life.  He was the embodiment of how Christ wanted us to live. I never heard him say a bad word about anyone.  He was always willing to lend a hand expecting nothing in return.  Shortly after Megan and I were married we were at the wedding of one of Megan’s friends.  After the meal, without being asked, Ken and Nancy cleared all of the tables in the reception hall.  That was as clear an example as any of Ken’s servant heart.

One of the most fascinating things I ever learned about Ken was how he became to be in Vietnam.  He did not believe in war.  But when the war in Vietnam began and Ken was drafted he chose to serve rather than run away.  Instead of going to Vietnam with a gun to destroy, he went with a hammer to help build.  I believe this is the epitome of loving your neighbor as yourself.

During the last two weeks as we were preparing for this service and I was looking through the hundreds of pictures and memories there were a few things that stood out to me.  The smile on Ken’s face when he was with his family and his friends was unmistakable.  The gleam in his eye when he was with Nancy, Megan, Josh, Joel, and then Emma was clear.  Ken loved his family.  Ken loved his friends.  Ken loved his life.

There are people in this world who are not lucky enough to have one father figure in their life.  I was fortunate enough to have two.  Besides my own father, Ken was a great example of what it was to be a husband, a father, and a man. 

I feel blessed to be a part of this family.  I consider myself blessed that Ken treated me like one of his own.  I am blessed to have known him.

Tribute 3

Tribute given by Megan:

As I thought about what to share today, many thoughts and memories quickly came to mind.  Memories from childhood to memories as a teenager to memories now… and through it all, I was always daddy’s little girl.  There was never a time when dad wasn’t walking each step by my side, encouraging me when I was down, disciplining me when I was out of line, loving me when I drove him crazy, and supporting me through tough decisions. 

I remember countless times running into problems, whether it be while driving or with my car or at my house or anything else that came up, my first thought would be to call dad.  He will know what to do cause there never seemed to be anything that dad wasn’t good at or couldn’t figure out.  He was a walking book of knowledge that I am so glad I got to experience… Or was made to experience.

I remember very clearly being at a soccer game in high school when someone announced my car had a flat tire.  How convenient I thought that dad and mom happened to be at the game.  So I turned around and yelled to dad, “My car has a flat tire and it needs changed.”  Dad got that little smile on his face that we all know so well and nicely yelled back, “This seems like a perfect time for you to learn how to change your own tire.”  So much to my chagrin, dad stood by my jeep and taught me how to change my tire. 

And then there are many memories of dad being surrounded by children.  It seemed all his life, children where drawn to him and he loved being with them.  This became all the more evident to me last summer when I gave birth to Emma, dad’s first and only grandchild.  Our happy fun-loving little girl had a rough start of it.  Spending the first 6 weeks of her life crying and wanting to be held.  And when PJ and I didn’t think we could walk any more with her that day, dad would take Emma, put her on his shoulder, and start walking.  Within minutes, she would nuzzle in on his neck and sleep like a baby should.  He would come back from walking around the circle at the farm smiling, enjoying every second of holding Emma, and showering her with love. 

And now as Emma asks where Pop-Pop is, she responds to her own question… “Jesus.”  She knows and we know that Dad is in a much better place, sitting at the feet of Jesus.  And while there is a void left here on Earth, we celebrate in the fact that one day we will see him again and be together as a family, spending eternity in Heaven. 

So in closing, here is something that speaks of who my dad was.

For a Man I’m Proud to Call My Dad

My dad was a man of strength… from the arms that carried me as a little girl to the unwavering support he surrounded me with until the end.

My dad was a man of character… through his commitment to always do the right thing and raising me to do the same.

My dad was a man of love… from the way he showed compassion toward others to the way he defined his own happiness by mine.

My dad was a man of kindness… from always doing things for me to show his love to doing things for others to show me how to live.

He was a man of respect… the kind of man I’m so proud to call my Dad. 

Tribute 2

Tribute given by Pop's sister Joan Pipher (read by her daughter, Pop's neice, Kristy Richmond):

I have many fond memories of growing up on the family farm.

I think we must have learned to work before we learned to walk.  I was always grateful when you boys could work outside doing farm chores.  I really didn’t like gathering eggs.  There was always the nasty pecking hens.  More than one went to chicken heaven in the manure pile.

It seems like you took responsibility early in life.  You worked in the barn with the all the animals, as well as in the fields until dusk brought you inside.  We had plenty of fun though too, getting into trouble.  Remember the time we went sledding down the back hill, using the tin roof from the chicken house as our sled.  We could have killed ourselves.  The Good Lord must have been watching over us.

And the time when everyone went to a conference except for you and I, and our grandparents.  We would sit and play “church” on the steps of the house for hours.  We would have Lassie (our dog) give us sermons from the steps.  We would tell her to preach, and she would bark out loud.  So, we’d give her a treat.  Those sermons were great!  When our cousin Luke Jr. got older, he replaced Lassie as the preacher.  Poor Lassie.  Luke Jr. didn’t eat biscuits though, so it saved us lots of money on food.  I’m sure Luke Jr. was a “free minister.”

And oh how you thought you were big stuff when you were younger.  I can still see you running after a fox up in the field.  You were so sure you would catch that fox.  What an entertaining evening!  Remember the times too of poking at water snakes in the stream at our house?  You never acted scared.

Spotting deer was an experience that few people got to enjoy as much as our family.  Especially when my sleep was so rudely interrupted because I was the one who had to drive the car.  It seems like the faster I drove, the more deer we saw.  And you would hang out the window with a spotlight, and when you would see the deer you would bang on the roof for me to stop.  I would have to come to a sudden stop so you could count the deer.  It seems like fun looking back, but not then!

I could ramble on and on, but I am putting a lid on it for this time.

My dear brother Kenny, I love you so very much.  I would have gladly traded places with you, and taken away all of your suffering.  But I couldn’t.  That hurts me very much, because a big sister needs to protect her baby brothers.  I’m proud of the man you became, and I’m proud to call you my brother.

All my love,

Sis