Love, Respect, and a Whole Lotta Laughs Along The Way

 

Hello, my name is Todd.

My Aunt Vicki asked if I’d be willing to stand up here, in front of you all today, to talk about her husband, my uncle, John Wesley Stephens.

I’m honored to be asked, and hope to do both John and Vicki proud.

I’ve been told that John HATED funerals, but here we are, so let’s celebrate him as best we can.

Shortly after John passed away I heard a television character, commenting on mortality by saying, “We’re not here for a long time, we’re here for a good time.” That struck a chord with me. I think it may describe John’s life, or parts of it anyway, so I’m going to use that as a guiding principle here.

John was a very athletic guy and a bit of a sports fan too, so I believe he may have, at some point while viewing ESPN, seen the speech that North Carolina State University basketball coach Jim Valvano, delivered less than two months before he died from a form of cancer called adenocarcinoma.

Coach Valvano said, and I quote;

“To me there are three things everyone should do every day.

Number one is laugh.

Number two is think - spend some time in thought.

Number three, you should have your emotions move you to tears.

If you laugh, think and cry, that’s a heck of a day.”

I hope that using Coach Valvano’s yardstick we’ll all have a heck of a day here together on what would have been John’s 80th birthday.

 

I’ve always believed that when a person passes away all that remains for the survivors are the stories and the memories, so I’ve reached out to John’s family to gather some of their favorite memories and stories to share with you here.

Uncle John LOVED to tell stories. Most of those stories were, in my opinion, pretty damn funny, so I anticipate that we’ll share a few laughs here tonight. I have checked with the pastors of this church and we have received special dispensation, for one night only, that laughter in church will not only be allowed, tonight it will be encouraged.

So please feel free to laugh, think, and cry, as you see fit. You’re here amongst friends, so it’s all good. 

As a young man John worked in a local Minneapolis butcher shop. One of the regular customers was a small, older lady with a temper who was never satisfied regardless of what the employees of the shop did in the vain attempt to satisfy her. One day while working with a couple of other guys, John, with his back to the counter, heard the bell on the counter ring. He looked up and noticed that both of his coworkers, who just minutes ago were both facing the counter while they worked, had now disappeared. Oh, Oh. John pretty much knew what was happening. His buddies had hung him out to dry. He slowly turned and there she was. The customer from hell. Reaching up to slam her purse on the elevated counter she fairly shouted,

“I’d like a pound of ground beef, two pork chops, a round steak, and two sausage links. And put them in my bag!” John began putting the order together placing each item he gathered in her purse. It was only after John had crammed the last of the items into her purse that she produced a net shopping bag from out of her coat pocket.

As John told the story, after a moment of staring at each other, in frozen silence, John slowly took the meat products out of her purse as the lady erupted in anger. Her explosion, however, was nowhere near as loud or long lasting as the laughter from John and the coworkers, who had abandoned him, after she was out of the shop and safely down the street.

I always loved that John was able to laugh at himself. I also loved that John was willing to help with chores and projects that needed to be done. My sister Lisa recalls that John helped her move a mattress, with his truck, on what turned out to be the coldest day of 2016. Perhaps John developed this work ethic as a young man when he worked on a farm outside of Fairmont Minnesota. My brother Mark reminded me of that fact.

Or, perhaps John was just a really good guy.

 Years ago my wife, Liz, noticed at family gatherings that John would often wait until someone would walk past him, headed to the kitchen, when they’d invariably ask him, “John, can I get you a cup of coffee? slice of pie? piece of cake? or whatever else was being served. John would ALWAYS answer, “Well, as long as you’re up…”

After Liz pointed it out to me, and I shared it with other family members, they noticed it too. It became another family joke and John would laugh about it along with us. So if you’d like to honor John tonight, when we gather in the fellowship hall after this service to enjoy some pie, cake, and coffee, please allow someone else to bring it to you, “as long as they’re up”.

And since we’re talking about desserts, John and Vicki had a good story on that topic too. You may or may not know that John received years of excellent care from the doctors and nurses at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. With his complex medical history John felt most comfortable relying on the folks at Mayo for most of his medical care.

 

One Monday John and Vicki drove to Rochester so John could get some tests done that morning. The custom was that after the tests they’d then go to Perkins, have lunch, and partake in the FREE PIE MONDAY promotion while they waited for the test results.

 

On this particular day they sat down, ordered their lunches, and mentioned which variety of pie they were considering as their freebie. Unfortunately, the waitress informed them, that particular Perkins restaurant no longer offered free pie on Mondays. Well that sucks, but John and Vicki figured they’d be okay anyway, so it was no big deal.

About then John received a text indicating that his test results were in and they were good! Now the fun begins as a lady is seated at the booth next to theirs, she mentions to the hostess that sat her that she is excited for her free pie. The hostess broke the news to her that they no longer offered free pie. Moments later another lady joined her and mentioned her excitement about the free pie only to ALSO be told there was no more free pie. The same scenario played out when the third lady in their party AND the fourth lady were seated too. We’ll never know what those ladies were meeting to talk about, but the only thing they could discuss NOW was the lack of free pie!

They were OUTRAGED!

By now, John and Vicki had finished their meal and as John went up to pay the bill Vicki went to the booth next door, placed a twenty dollar bill on the table, and explained to the outraged ladies,

“We were just over at the Mayo Clinic Hospital and we received some really good news. So I would like to pay for your pie today.” John, returning to leave a cash tip at he and Vicki’s table, overheard what Vicki had told those ladies and then added,

“Yeah, the good news is that she has been in the psych ward for quite some time, and today I finally get to take her home!”

I think of that story EVERY time I drive past a Perkins restaurant. The one near us still has FREE PIE MONDAY painted on the front windows in bright colorful letters. And I’m sure those four ladies will NEVER forget the time that a “very nice crazy lady” bought them pie.

John shared so many memorable stories. I believe that this next one was one he merely heard at an AA meeting. He wasn’t actually involved in it, but I do recall John having to remove his glasses to wipe away tears from laughing so hard as he retold it.

It seems there was a fellow whose wife was going out of town for the weekend so she told him, in no uncertain terms, that there was to be NO SMOKING OR DRINKING in the house while she was gone.

Well, sure enough, on the first day she was gone he got drunk, and passed out on the living room couch with a lit cigarette in his hand. The smell of burning foam cushioning and upholstery finally woke him.

He rushed to the kitchen, got a pitcher of water to douse the flames, and then called one of his buddies to help him figure out what to do. Somehow, in the state they were in it made sense to them to remove the evidence of the crime, as if the wife wouldn’t notice a missing living room couch or the smell of a smoldering sofa.

Well, our two heroes somehow wrangled the couch on top of the car of the sofa owner so they could drive it across town to the city dump. They decided that taking the freeway would be the faster route so that’s the way they went. About a mile down the road a person in the car next to them was pointing at the top of their car. Our heroes nodded and waved back, mouthing the words, WE’RE TAKING IT TO THE DUMP!” ANOTHER car passed and also pointed at the couch on top of their car.

Then another, and ANOTHER. Just then our heroes pulled even, on the freeway, with one of those shiny metallic semi-trailer trucks and they saw for themselves what others were pointing at; a fully involved, flaming sofa on top of the car they were driving!

Who knew that a still smoldering couch fire super-oxygenated with a 55 mile per hour breeze would flare up like that?

Who knows if the city dump accepts flaming refuse?

Did the wife ever believe whatever story they concocted to explain what happened?

Did their insurance guy believe any of it?

Is the wife still his wife?

We may never know the answers to ANY of those questions, I just know that John got us all laughing really hard every time he told that one too.

The last few years I recall Uncle John, after telling some of his stories about drinking, concluding them with, “...but you’re smarter than that. You'd never do anything like that.”

It seemed that he wanted to make sure we were easily learning some of the lessons he learned the hard way.

John fought for his sobriety.

He worked at it and was proud of it. He said that it was the most important thing in his life because without it, he would have nothing.

Had he lived John would have celebrated 40 years of sobriety this past April 1st. That is one hell of an accomplishment.

I think he deserves applause for that.

Belief in, and reliance on, a HIGHER POWER is a part of many 12 Step Programs like Alcoholics Anonymous. John was a true believer and participant in AA. For that reason I’ve always assumed he believed in a Higher Power or perhaps the Great Creator that our Native American heritage might indicate. I just don’t know the specifics of his faith. He and I never discussed religious matters and neither of us have regularly attended church.

 

I have heard that John did not fear dying, for himself. He was more concerned about how his absence would affect Vicki.

Perhaps John’s religious beliefs were like his brother Dale who thinks we all go through three distinctly different dimensions.

An in utero dimension before we are born,

a dimension here on earth,

and a third dimension in the after-life.

Uncle Dale wrote this down and shared it with me. And I quote;

“...I believe when we die it is like being born again into another dimension. My mind can’t imagine what that new dimension will be but I think it is a good thing or place or whatever it is. I don’t know if we’ll remember our previous dimension, this life, but I have a sense that we do remember.

Later, on the day of my mother’s funeral I was driving somewhere and passed some blooming lilac bushes that were very fragrant. Lilacs played a big part in my childhood memory from my mom’s love of them to my dad every time we drove by a farm where you could smell the manure saying, ‘Ahhh lilacs’.

I had a brief, calming vision of my mother and father walking down our old street, Colfax Avenue in Minneapolis, hand in hand, and together again after 47 years of being apart. I feel they were sending me a message from that next dimension saying, ‘we are together and happy’”

Uncle Dale continues;

“I believe we will all go to that new dimension and we will surely live on in our children and in the hearts and minds of those who were a part of our life. So to all who have departed I say, ‘So long, you will be remembered, and you are loved.’”

 Thanks for sharing that Dale. I sure hope you’re right and that John is now in that place and that we will all join him in time.

But how do we know when our time is up? Coach Valvano, who I mentioned earlier, also during that speech on ESPN famously said, “Don’t give up… Don’t EVER give up!”

My Uncle John didn’t give up. He didn’t EVER give up.

John remained sober for damn near 40 years. He proudly didn’t give his sobriety up.

A failing liver imperiled John 25 years ago, but Tim C. his generous liver donor allowed John to not give up.

John attended pre-dawn spin classes, five days a week, as a 79 year old, into September of last year. He didn’t give up on his workouts.

John’s early prognosis after his Covid19 diagnosis at the Mayo was not good, but John wouldn’t give up. He fought Covid for 6 long weeks. He even had one of those Cubii (pedaling while you sit up) devices brought into the ICU so he could keep working out!

In the end though, Covid19 took John like it has taken more than a million other Americans.

But he never gave up. He bravely fought to the end.

And now we are left with the stories and the memories.

In a note Aunt Vicki sent us recently she mentioned that John had told her that,

 “...if he could leave this world and be remembered for being a ‘Good Person’ he would be satisfied.”

To which Vicki added, “MISSION ACCOMPLISHED”.

And I wholeheartedly agree.

My sister, Libby, remembers John as a peace-maker in the family. John’s sisters Bonnie and MaryEllen knew he could be counted on to give them a ride if and when needed.

I myself know that John always made people feel better about themselves after spending time with him. He always treated people with love and respect.

Again, he was just a really good guy. The type of guy so comfortable in his own skin that he would chat with random strangers. This may have led to one of John’s most amazing stories. As the story goes, John was driving truck locally for Border States, delivering electric supplies to different construction sites and businesses.

One day he showed up at the loading dock of a local business near lunchtime. The dock manager told John that his crew was at lunch and not available to help unload. Rather than sitting and waiting for the crew to return, the two decided to unload the truck themselves. They talked as they worked. John mentioned his liver transplant. The dock manager mentioned that he lost a son and his organs were donated.

Then they compared dates. As they continued talking it became obvious.

They shared a connection unlike any that most of us will ever experience.

The dock manager’s son Tim’s liver was the gift of life that John needed and received. Regardless of whether you call this chance meeting happenstance, providence, or just dumb luck, there were tears that day on the loading dock and even more shed and shared when the two families met a few months later. This connection was discovered only because two strangers were willing to go above and beyond, doing work not assigned to them, and happily chatting while doing so.

I recall John telling me, the last few years, about his memories of sitting drunk at the bar and looking at the top shelf behind the bartender, you know, where the most expensive, really good stuff is kept. John told me his thoughts always were,

“If I could drink that stuff way up there my life would be so much better.”

In my view John WAS a top shelf guy. Helpful, kind, open-minded, non-judgemental, able to laugh at himself, loving, respectful, just a REALLY good person.

He’s the kind of person we need more of these days. So I’m going to try to be more like him. I think maybe we should ALL try to be a bit more like him. To emulate and honor John we can;

Stay physically active,

Heed your doctor’s advice,

Help others when we can,

Become an organ donor,

And ALWAYS treat people with love and respect.

Now and forever, we love and miss you Uncle John!