This post is about a year and half late. My grandfather, Joe Kremer, passed away on June 30, 2010. I had the privilege to speak at his wake about his life, legacy, and lessons learned. This will be a long read, but I hope you will enjoy it.
Grandpa’s Tribute
While interviewing for an FFA District Office my junior year
of high school, I was asked to name my hero and explain why I chose that
particular person. Without hesitation, I
explained that my grandfather, Joe Kremer, was my hero. He is my hero for 3 reasons:
1)
He
had experienced and overcome much adversity in his life.
2)
He
served his community and state with integrity and stood up for what he believed
to be true and right.
3)
He
was one of the wisest men that I knew, though he had only a high school
education.
Very few of us have the privilege for meeting our heroes, let
alone the chance to call him “Grandpa;” to see him in the public eye and also
to share in the intimacy of dinner-time prayers and laughter around the table.
What elevated my grandpa from just a “cool Grandpa” who
served in the gold-domed capitol to hero status was a story about when his leg
became caught in the post-hole digger.
If you know Joe Kremer, then you know that he’s a story-teller. This
story has been told around our family table many times, with my aunts and uncle
adding in color commentary.
Grandpa had been digging post-holes and my aunt Barb, who was
about 7 at the time, went to help him.
The post-hole digger got stuck and Grandpa went to check it out &
fix it. His leg ended up getting caught in the digger. Barb saved his life that day by shutting off
the tractor and running for help. While
in surgery, the doctors worked tirelessly to save his leg – and lost count when
they had put in more than 2000 stitches.
Doctors told my grandma, “IF he lives, he will most likely never
walk. IF he does walk, it will always be
with a limp.”
My favorite part of the story, though, is this: Grandpa was suffering from intense pain and
doctors weren’t sure if he’d make it.
Grandpa said, “That Sunday, the people of St. Anthanasius Church prayed
for me at 10:30 – and at 10:30 that morning, my pain eased and my prognosis
turned around.” Not only did he recover,
but he walked again – and without a limp, for many years. That story taught me two things: 1) God answers the prayers of His people;
2) He had big plans for my grandpa – and
‘God works all things together for good for those who love him and are called
according to His purpose.’ That Joe
Kremer – he defied the odds.
The motto for the state of Iowa is “Our liberties we prize
and our rights we will maintain.” This
past week, I heard it said that every true Iowan has a fire in their belly for
personal liberty and protecting our rights.
In that case, my grandpa was indeed a true Iowan. He was a statesman; he didn’t run for any
office, whether in the county or to represent District 27 in the Legislature –
for personal gain or fame. He sought to
ensure that the rights and liberties that God has granted intended for our
life, liberty and pursuit of happiness were maintained. He believed that a man’s integrity, character
and record were enough to be elected by the people. He had no interest in smearing an opponent;
the truth can speak for itself.
Growing up, I had immense pride in the fact that my grandpa was a state legislator. I
loved going to the capitol; loved seeing him be sworn in – and then bragging
about it to anyone who’d listen. Through
the years, he was always my “go-to” interview for anything leadership or
character related. As an adult, I’ve
realized that Grandpa’s service in office instilled in me the belief that we
can impact government; that those elected should work in the best interest of
preserving the rights of people; that the power for change lies within us and
not an institution; and that to lead is to serve.
A few years ago, I asked Grandpa what he believed shaped
these convictions for him. He responded:
“Most of the better attributes for
which you give me credit were inherited graces from a loving and service-dedicated
mother and an extremely strict and non-nonsense father. In retrospect, it is their guidance and
strict Catholic discipline that were, although unknown to me at the time,
shaping my fundamental philosophy of life.
It is this: we are put into this
world to help one another.
This, I must admit, is something I
see in retrospect. I never really
considered it a virtue, rather, it always appeared to me as a duty. I was fortunate enough to learn from my
parents, and my religious upbringing that we cannot exceed the generosity of
God. I have never prayed for power or
wealth, but do admit that I have often asked the Lord for the privilege of
living a life of comparable comfort. That has been granted. I have a loving and helpful spouse to share
these final years, and hopefully, enough financial resources that I may never
be a burden to anyone. It is my prayer
that this last request be granted.
In summary, I will say this, I have
attempted to keep as my guide the greatest commandment of all, “Love the Lord
thy God with your whole mind, heart and soul and your neighbor as
yourself.” For this I am most truly
grateful. (And that I have been able to
retain my sense of humor and ability to ‘laugh at life.’) “
Joe Kremer was a pillar in his community, church and
state. First, though, he was a pillar in
his family. With wisdom, he acted on
behalf of his constituents. With wisdom,
he built his household. I believe God
saw the way he sought to honor Him first in the way he led his family that he
elevated Grandpa to the service of many.
I had the privilege to know my hero. The legs that were predicted to never walk
again, we clung to. In my favorite “Grandpa” game, Grandpa would sit in his chair, wrap
his legs around anyone sitting close to him, and holler, ‘I’ve got a prisoner!
I’ve got a prisoner!’ The man who spoke
with serious words in the statehouse, wrote love letters to Grandma and penned
phrases like, “What a peculiar bird the pelican, his beak can hold more than
his belly can!”
Grandpa definitely kept that sense of humor. One day, totally out of the blue, Cindy
decided to call Grandpa, “Grandpa McGillicuddy.” Our gaggle of girl cousins quickly picked up
on it and would taunt Grandpa with “Grandpa McGillicuddy!” Every time, we’d call it out – he’d bellar,
“WHO said THAT?!” We’d shriek and laugh – and then Grandpa would usually say,
“Grandma! Those kids are pickin’ on me, again!”
The game eventually faded – but the name stuck. You all might refer to him as Joe, but to us,
he will always be Grandpa McGillicuddy.
He also centered our family around God. At dinner time, he’d say, “Well, we’re all
gonna pray. If you don’t pray, you don’t eat!”
And you knew that he meant it! At his birthday a few years ago, our
entire family all attended mass together.
That day after church, I saw tears shining in his eyes as he said, “It’s
just so good to have the whole family worshipping together.”
Grandpa’s gift of story-telling passed down to his children.
The stories of Grandpa’s strict, no-nonsense discipline are in no shortage. He
was very practical and told it like it was.
When my mom was in college, my dad sent her flowers. Grandpa quipped,
“Well, flowers don’t put food on the table, now, do they?”
Grandpa wasn’t the one you went to when you were looking for
sympathy. But, he told you the truth even when you didn’t want to hear it. …and
in my experience, he was usually right.
My first “real” job out of college wasn’t going too well; there was
miscommunication and undefined expectations – and some “interesting” people to
try and work with. As our family
gathered one weekend, I sought some advice.
Grandpa asked me what was going on; I explained; and he said, “Well, it
sounds to me like this is your penance.”
My 22-year-old brilliance responded, “Grandpa, I don’t
believe in penance. I believe in grace.”
As my understanding and faith have matured, I now see his
wisdom. Grandpa knew better than most
that life brings us trials and adversity.
God allows these because they are opportunities for us to strengthen our
feeble knees and weak arms, so that we may stand firm in our faith until the
end (Hebrews 12). From his life experience, he knew the truth St. Paul wrote in
Romans 5:
“More than that, we rejoice in our
sufferings knowing that suffering produces endurance, endurance produces
character, and character produces hope – and our hope does not disappoint us
because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.
For while we were still weak, Christ
died for the ungodly. God shows His love
for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have been justified by
His blood, how much more then will we be saved from wrath! For, if while we
were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son, much more now
that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by His life.“
Our hope does not disappoint.
In fact, in 1 Corinthians, Paul says that hope, along with faith and
love, are one of the three things that remain. HOPE. I don’t think Grandpa is disappointed
today. I think he is finding that he can
‘walk and not grow weary; run and not faint.’
I think he has realized that all of his sufferings and trials here have
earned him a crown of glory in heaven.
The hardest thing on earth is to watch your revered and
beloved hero grow old and suffer.
Knowing that Grandpa didn’t want to be a burden has caused me to wrestle
with God in prayer about why. Over time,
I’ve realized that 1) we witnessed a miracle – Joe Kremer once again defied the
medical odds; and 2) it was for us.
Though his strength had diminished, we all still looked to him as the
pillar of our family. His passing leaves
a hole – a gap to be filled. As I’ve
reflected on this, I don’t believe that this gap is meant to be filled by
one. Each of us, in some degree or
another, holds these attributes of Grandpa’s – a lover of history and country;
a servant leader; one who stands up for truth and what’s right; that dry,
clever wit; the ability to tell it like it is; the endurance to overcome great
adversity; and a stubborn, hold-on-for-dear-life, don’t give up yet will. It is our legacy – and the privilege of our
inheritance – to rise up together and stand for truth, as Grandpa did. It is a great privilege, with great responsibility,
but following in his footsteps by daily living out the greatest commandment, we
will do it.
