Today we gather in the Name of the Good Shepherd who knows his flock by name, and who leads his lambs, and gathers the creaky old rams, into the place of protection. Today we gather to ask God to shepherd us through the heart ache of this week. We gather to thank God for the faithful life of one who took seriously the mission and ministry of Jesus, and who to the best of his ability was a shepherd, a faithful warden and an Oak of Righteousness.A shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. He devotes his energy to the care of his community, his country, his family. A shepherd devotes all he has for the good of others. Shepherds need to be brave, and cunning. A smart shepherd is not fearless. A smart shepherd is able to act, to do what needs to be done when he is afraid. A shepherd is willing to go to battle to protect the vulnerable, using his wits. It helps if the shepherd reads a lot. It helps if the shepherd spends enough time with the ones entrusted to his care to really know them, to know when they are likely to get into brambles and to be ready to come to their aid. A smart shepherd is on the lookout for a partner and when he finds her he cherishes her all the days of their life.
In the life of this congregation we have known such an exemplary shepherd. He was for a good long time a Warden, a keeper of the keys. Wardens are charged with assisting the clergy with promoting the general interest of the congregation. Sometimes this means driving long distances over windy roads and coming back with a truckload of Christmas trees. Sometimes this means sitting with your dear friends as they mourn the tragic death of their son. Wardens take care of buildings and grounds, fixing the things that need to be fixed. Wardens provide for what is needed for worship in the Anglican tradition – prayer books, bread and wine and kneelers. Some wardens even make the kneelers. Wardens secure the services of clergy for the edification of the Church, and shepherd the clergy too. In the past 50 years many priests of this parish have been blessed by Wilbur’s good humor and good advice.
The prophecy of Isaiah is that the suffering people of God will be anointed, their wounds bound, their hearts set free. Isaiah speaks to a people in exile longing for home with the assurance that God will make of them mighty oaks. In recent days we have seen photos of Wilbur – tiny, sapling Wilbur in his Navy uniform. Hardly a candidate for the name Mighty Oak. And yet that is so appropriate. An Oak tree sends down deep roots. An Oak of Righteousness is anchored in the life of faith, in the conviction that God will sustain that which God has planted. An Oak grows strong slowly, weathering storms and stress. An Oak of Righteousness provides shade, and a place for the birds to nest, and liberally sprinkles acorns. Righteousness, justice, hope, generosity.
The oak lings of Wilbur’s life are a testimony to the worth, the value, the meaning of his one long and good life. We are privileged to have known him. AMEN
Eulogy for Dad/Wilbur Hodgman July 11, 2009
Good Night, God Bless and We Love You
It is an honor to represent the family in making a few remarks about my father, though thinking about it, I don't know if my sisters and brother and mum are just giving up knowing the blabber-mouth teacher will talk as only teachers do. But I guess I'm in good company because Dad was a talker too. How does one sum up a life in a few words or any words for that matter? It can't be done. So I'll just blabber and blubber and hope that I can capture just a little of the essence of Dad's life.
Dad was a moral man, a simple man, a working man. At the funeral parlor on Thursday my sisters Wendy and Jessie and brother Tony said that his life revolved around family, church and country. For a period of his life, back when he worked at the shoe shops and at Bourdon's, he was the hardest working person we ever knew, working 80 and sometimes 90 hour weeks including a stint of having to start a boiler at Montclare Shoes at 1 or 2 AM every morning after working a 12 hour shift 6 days a week. Never a word of complaint or bitterness--he did it all for his "darling wife," as he referred to Mum, and his children of whom he was so proud. Always for his family. Many a stranger would hear him say, "My son, Tony is a grocery store manager." "My daughter, Wendy, does all the accounts receivable at Joy Manufacturing." "My son Stephen teaches in Australia", "My daughter Jessie is a lawyer." This continued with his 2 daughters-in law, Sharon and Isabelle, 8 wonderful grandchildren, Mark, Lisa, Dylan, Ryan, Molly, Tom, Caitlin and Jeffrey and 2 great grandchildren Mackenzie and Autumn. Ex son-in-law Jack. Soon to be son-in-law, Fran. Jessie's friend Ed. Theresa. Joe. Always so proud.
He was also intensely proud of his service in World War II that featured being part of a very select group of specialists in naval communications 40 feet under the city of London and sending vital information on which the very success of D-Day depended. But he was even prouder of meeting a young service woman in the British Army and making her his wife. Of course, there was a little cunning on his part as he hinted at having rich Bostonian roots to attract her, when the only real roots were those growing in the farm fields of Goshen and Lempster where he grew up and where he brought her home. A sin easily forgotten by Mum as he made her the Duchess of Goshen and Queen of Claremont in his unfailing devotion, complete with bringing fresh flowers to her every week.
He had his little faults and contradictions, we all do, but these only added to his being a New Hampshire Yankee original. As I said he was a moral person. He hated man's inhumanity to man and, yet, he would engage in some pretty un-Christian criticisms. A recent example would be the current President of Iran, of whom he frequently said, "You know what we would have done on the farm--taken him out back and hoss whipped him!" He came from rock ribbed Republican roots but delighted in voting Democrat because he believed in those values and also because he just wanted to aggravate certain family members and town fathers in Lempster and Goshen who expected him to vote Republican.
But when it came down to his true morals, his actions always spoke louder than his words. He and my mother enthusiastically sponsored for 3 years an inner city African American youth from Kansas City involved in the ABC (A Better Chance) program that came to Claremont in 1969. That youth, Hardia Madden, now a successful businessman in Los Angeles, has had a lifelong friendship with both Mum and Dad and credits them with helping turn his life around.
Father David Mchilhiney, former rector here at Trinity, once described Dad at a testimonial for him here as a man who had a "genius for people" He could relate to anyone. He had that gift, as poet Rudyard Kipling said, of one who could "walk with kings nor lose the common touch." I discovered that firsthand one fine summer's day in 1971 when he asked me to help him with a delivery of Bourdon's furniture to a destination in Cornish. I was going into my junior year as an English major at UNH. As we were driving, I said, "I wonder if the weather is going to stay nice." Dad casually replied with a little grin creeping across his face, "I don't know. We'll have to ask J.D." I said, "Who?" "J.D." "Who?" "J.D. Salinger! You're studying literature and you don't know who J. D. Salinger is?" And thus unfolded a wonderful afternoon with the infamous hermit, me and my father who, as it turned out, was the only person at Bourdon's that J.D. would deal with because he was so down to earth and trustworthy. A Yankee original. I'm sure my brother and sisters and mother and others have examples as powerful as mine to illustrate this ability to connect with others and the deep sense of humility, humor, respect and dignity that accompanied this ability .
I promise I won't be too much longer. Here's a list of memories and Wilburisms that some of us remember and all of you I'm sure can appreciate. Early Saturday morning brook trout fishing on one of the infmite number of streams he knew in the area. Trips to Newport every Sunday in the 50's and 60's to share delicious chicken barbeques with his beloved navy friend and brother-in-law, Tony Rzucidlo, Mum's sister Pat and their 3 great children, our childhood cousins and best friends--John, David and Peter. Fun trips to his older brother Frank's farm in Goshen. Working till all hours of the night to tailor dresses and skirts for his daughters' school dances. Rejecting a lucrative job offer in the early 60's at 4 times his Claremont salary to move to a machinist position in Middletown, Connecticut, but deciding the move would be too traumatic for his children. Trying to get his two lazy sons to go out and weed his quarter acre garden on summer mornings. Notices posted around the Hodgman House during his children's wasteful teenage years, "When not in use, turn off the juice! Signed, The Management." Weekly taxiing of Aunt Pat from Newport to Claremont and back so she could do grocery shopping with Mum, her sister. His military commands to his two sons for chores undone, "Number One Son, front and center! Number Two Son, front and center!" The pride and fear of sending his son Tony off to the army in war torn 1968. Earning his GED in 1974 at the age of 47. Helping his children in their new homes with any number of home fix it projects, draperies, upholstering, carpentry, plumbing, car work...you name it this son of the Depression could turn a hand to it. Wonderful trips to Tony and Sharon's in Amsterdam, NY. Family camping trips to Nova Scotia in the 70's and 80's. Enjoyable parties in Wendy and Jack Murray's garage. A trip to Disney World with his whole family thanks to Jack and Wendy. Surviving a scare with cancer in 1983. Opening his home and wallet to Isabelle and me and our young son Mark on our return from Australia in 1985. Cooking the Thanksgiving turkey in 1985 with a little too much sherry much to the disapproval of Mum and the delight of my
visiting Australian friend Marshall. Trips to California to visit Jessie and Bobby. Surviving a heart attack in 1987. Returning to England with Mum to celebrate the 50th wedding anniversary thanks to nephew David and the rest of the family's gift. Visits to Isabelle's and my home in Bedford. Holding his grandchildren on his lap and reading to them. Discovering in 2001 that his hearing loss was due to a V2 rocket bomb blast he suffered in London in 1944. In his latter years, reading WWII histories and novels until 5AM and then bringing tea up to Mum at 6AM. Celebrating Mum and his 60th wedding anniversary in 2006. The curious habit he had of ending his statements with a question-- "That was a nice piece of steak, wasn't it, dear?" "I got a good price for that cord of wood, didn't I?" Watching Red Sox games with Mum. Annual family trips to Wells Beach Columbus Day weekend in the 80's, 90's and the new millennium. Chalice bearer for morning communion, vestryman, Senior and Junior Warden in his 59 years of service to Trinity Church. Proud participant in filmmaker Deborah Scranton's award winning 2003 WWII documentary on Goshen war vets, Witness To Silence. Did you catch the last 3 items? We've come full circle--family, church and country. That's pretty much his essence. I think of these words by Ralph Waldo Emerson that I carry around in my wallet, and I think I know by heart..."To laugh often and much. To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children. To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty. To find the best in others. To leave the world a little better--whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition. To know that even one life has breathed a little easier because you have lived...this is the meaning of success."
I close with words that Dad ended every one of his many, many nighttime phone calls to his children, their spouses and other family members, "Good night, God Bless and I love you" And so we all say--Dear Husband, Dad, Father-in-Lawood Night, God Bless, and I love you. , Wilbur, Yeoman 2'1 Class, Uncle, Brother, Cousin, Grandpa, Great Grandpa, Churchman, Friend--good night, God bless, and we love you.
- Stephen Hodgman
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