EULOGY FROM A FRIEND
Jim Whalen’s eulogy for my father began: “I want to take a moment to
thank Larry and the Choir, Jean Radice, and Angus Godwin for providing
so much beautiful music today. I am very proud of all of you, and I know
Roy would have been too. As so many of you know, Roy appreciated very
much the efforts involved in special presentations. Gray Thoron, he would
love knowing that you were here to share one of his favorite poems. And,
of course, I want to thank Reverend Lewis and Reverend Hill for their
special kindness and help.
“And to my vice president, Bonnie Gordon, a very special thanks for
your superb efforts during these last few days in bringing it all together.
You were special to Roy and I know he appreciates it as well.
“I also want to acknowledge Cornell President Frank Rhodes, and our
colleagues from The University of North Carolina and North Carolina
State.
“It was very hard to even imagine us all being here today… Roy’s
family, his business associates, staff, friends and neighbors, students and
faculty from the educational community he served so well—from this
whole community that he served so well. But here we are, in part to
grieve, in part to remember…and perhaps most of all, to share our stories
about Roy and the ways in which he touched our lives so that we could
each see a little more of him through each other and take comfort in that
sharing.
“I did take comfort, Dottie, in being able to share part of Tuesday with
you, as you and the family returned from New York. I must tell you that I
watched that plane touch down on the runway with such sadness. I
remembered the many times when you and Roy would offer me and Gill a
ride, and we would come into that airport together after having had such
good times. When the door of the plane opened on Tuesday, I couldn’t
help but expect what I had seen so often before…a great tumbleweed of
crumpled newspapers from Roy’s daily reading, armfuls of wonderful
Christmas treats from Sulka ties and Tiffany scarves to those fantastic
singing bears with the red noses, and that visible sense of tired but happy
satisfaction from having had a good trip.
“Instead, I saw in all your faces that certain knowledge that somebody
was missing. There was a tremendous sense of emptiness around us, and I
recalled the words of a good mutual friend who said that no one would
know until Roy was gone how much space he occupied in our lives —how
large a presence he really was.
