I was asked by Harold's family to speak at his service. It was an honor but probably one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.
Several people have asked for a copy of my remarks. Here they are. I hope I did this wonderful man justice.
Bailey's Pool Hall - How many of you have called Harold and had that as his greeting?
Harold lived a good
life. No, Harold lived a great life and I know all of you are proud to
have been a part of it. I know I am. That is why we are
gathered here today, to honor and say good bye to a man we loved.
What a true Southern gentleman born and raised in Walstonburg.
Affectionately known as the Mayor of North Walstonburg.
He was pulled away from Walstonburg only two times. Once to attend his
beloved Carolina, where he graduated, and proudly wore that class ring till the
very end. The other time was as a soldier in WWII.
Harold was kind, polite, loving, faithful, and had a heart led by God. Don’t think I ever saw him
lose his temper.
Every Friday night, Harold and I went to join friends at O’Cools, a
sports bar in Greenville. Don't remember exactly when it started but it’s
been going on for many many years and Harold did look forward to it. If I
had not called him by Thursday night to tell him when I would be there to pick
him up, he was calling me. It was on those trips to O’Cools that he
shared his life. We talked about politics, sports, how he was feeling and about
his family. And speaking of family ...He was so proud of his grandchildren
and great grandchildren. On our last trip, he talked on and on about his very
young great grandchildren, Hunter and Davis, who called him Big Daddy,
"They are starting to get their own personalities he said….and I
think I'm going to like them."
At O’Cool’s he had his own special chair, it was Harold's chair, and if
they didn't have his favorite sandwich, a Reuben, on the menu that night, well,
it didn't matter, all he had to do was ask for it. There's a regular crowd that comes each Friday night and he always had
a lot of people stopping by to say hello. Everyone there loved Harold, and not
many nights passed that he didn't have a cute young girl sharing time and
stories with him.
On the way home from OCools, we always stopped for an ice cream cone at
McDonalds. One time, he wanted to try one of those chocolate dipped
cones. Big mistake. Harold ended up getting more chocolate on
himself than he ate. From that night on, I just ordered a regular cone
for him.
When I dropped him off at home, he always said, "Now call me when
you get home. I don't want to worry about you being in a ditch
somewhere." So when I got home, I would call. Every now and
then, I would forget and the phone would ring. "Are you in a ditch
somewhere?" No Harold, I am not in a ditch, just got busy and forgot
to call. He always looked after me.
Harold came to eat with my family quite often over the years.
Once, when my youngest daughter was home for the weekend from Carolina,
Harold was there for dinner. My daughter was all excited about receiving
a scholarship from the university for summer travel and she was telling him how
she was going to backpack through Europe…live with the people. Harold
listened intently and when she finished, he said, "You know, I did the
same thing when I was your age, got a free trip to Europe, and a back
pack." She turned and looked at him surprised, "and they gave
me a gun too".
Harold served faithfully in WWII at the Battle of the Bulge, saw
the horrors that war brings. I can't imagine the fear and misery he
encountered. One night he was telling me about a church in Germany and
the beautiful bells that would ring there.
Tears welled up in his eyes. I
know it must have brought back a flood of memories.
My husband John traveled to Washington DC often. On several of those
trips, Harold and I went with him. So when the WWII Memorial was finished, it
was important to us that we get him there. We were blessed to see the
World War II Memorial with Harold 3 times. Once, while walking
around, Harold struck up a conversation with a lady whose father had
served also. Her father was ill and unable to travel so she came alone, to see
the memorial so she could tell him about it. He flew one of the big
planes that bombed the enemy for Harold and his fellow soldiers to advance.
It was a beautiful day with blue skies and those big white fluffy
clouds. They talked and shared stories, just had the best time. I
stood there, watching them. I could see tears in her eyes as she talked with
Harold. He brought her a lot of joy that day. He had a way of doing that
for people.
On another trip, we went to the Capitol for a tour. As we
approached the first gate, the attendant told of all the restrictions…no guns,
knives, . I took Harold over to the side knowing he usually carried his
pocket knife with him. Yes, he had his pocket knife. It was one he had
since he was a little boy and it was very important to him. Oh my, what
to do. We walked around for a while trying not to look suspicious but we
made a decision. We would hide it under a rock. So, we did.
Noting our location and expecting to have a SWAT team pounce on us at any
minute. I mean we were right at the Capitol steps. Nothing happened
so we entered the Capitol for the tour. But, not only did Harold have
that knife which we hid, he also had a pocket full of stuff, a cell phone, two
sets of keys, a camera, handful of change, his wallet, and a handful of screws,
wire nuts and bolts. His pockets were full. Have no idea why he had so
much junk in his pocket, must have weighed 5 lbs. and if you have ever been to
Washington to the capitol, you know how many times you are checked and must
empty your pockets. We were checked going in the building and when we went to
the Senate Chambers. Took him 10 minutes to get all of his stuff out of
his pockets in the bucket and be scanned, then put it back in his pockets so we
could enter. What a day. From that day forward, I always checked
his pockets. And yes, after the tour was over, we went outside, found the
rock and his knife was still there. We always called that trip our Easter
egg knife hunt trip.
On another
occasion, we visited with Sen Jesse Helms. Helms took us all over, showed us
where the British started the fire that burned the Capitol, even allowed Harold
to sit at the desk Pres. Lincoln used to sign the Emancipation Proclamation.
He really liked Harold and wanted his trip to be special.
Harold was not only my friend, he was like my father....and he was my beach
buddy too. Every summer, a group of our
friends, stay in a beautiful ocean front cottage at Atlantic Beach. Harold always came to visit us. This summer he offered to cook breakfast for
us one morning. That was breakfast for 16 people. Little did we know, he would be in the
kitchen rattling pots and pans at 6:30, waking the entire cottage. Pretty incredible for a man his age. And it was a mighty fine breakfast. But he was asleep in a rocking chair shortly
afterwards, mouth open, catching flies.
I’m going to
miss that sweet, dear man. I’ll miss that wild
hair. I miss those bags of wonderful
cheese straws he made. I’ll miss the
bouquets of flowers he shared. I’ll miss
having a glass of red wine with him.
I’ll miss those talks about life.
Harold always
made me feel special. And I am really
going to miss that.
