Last Wednesday we held the funeral for George Grogan at Norris Funeral Home in Stuart. His burial at the Oakwood Cemetery in Martinsville. I was asked if I would make my remarks available, so I’m posting them here. George grew up in Martinsville, where after a stint in the Army, worked for the Post Office. After retiring, he moved up on the mountain and became a beloved member or our community. The location of the funeral in Stuart made it easier for friends from both Martinsville and Meadows of Dan to attend.
The Eulogy: Memories of George
We lost a good man. George came from a small family. Having no children of his own, George Grogan loved and doted on his nephew and niece, Trip and Elizabeth. He gave them other names, “Dude” and “Sug.” He taught them to swim and ride a bike. George took the two of them to the beach and to the pool in the summer. In the winter, he took them sledding. Instead of building traditional snowmen they’d fashioned dinosaurs and dragons and use food coloring to make them more life-like. (There must have been a little bit of Calvin, as in Calvin and Hobbes, in George). He taught Elizabeth how to drive in Oakwood Cemetery, where we will intern his body this afternoon.
As Trip recalls, he was the best uncle anyone could ask for. After all, how could you go wrong with an uncle who joked his Christmas present for you made the list of the top ten most dangerous toys that year! Or when helping Liz with a leaf collection for school, they collected 32 instead of the minimum requirement of 10, far overachieving the rest of the class. Or who took you to all the top movies as they were released.
George almost always arrived at Mayberry Presbyterian Church before or as I arrived on Sunday morning. He’d bring with him a delicious dish for the brunch after church—sometimes a sweet dish but often some kind of grits. I joked with him about the need to spice up his grits with jalapenos. “No,” he firmly insisted. But he did relent enough to make grits with pimentos the next week.
One Sunday, I brought jalapenos poppers: peppers stuffed with cream cheese and wrapped in bacon. I planned to egg on George. The joke was on me. He wasn’t in church that Sunday. It turned out this was one of his stays at New River Valley Hospital. I wrapped up two of the poppers in foil and took them up to George at the hospital that afternoon. “Get those out of here,” he laughed as he rose up from bed and pointed to the door. A nurse gladly took them off George’s hands.
While I couldn’t tease George into exploring spicy food, he was a wonderful cook. And while George may have seemed set in his ways, he was open to change. As a mail carrier who walked throughout the city of Martinsville, George had a great dislike of dogs. They were his nemeses. I don’t know what it is about dogs, but their DNA seems to contain a distrust of mail carriers.
But after he retired, someone needed a volunteer to dog sit a Lab. George, wanting to be helpful, agreed, and fell in love with the dog. From then on, he always had a dog. The last, which also shows his humor, being Knucklehead. It took me a while to realize that was the dog’s name, not just what he was called.
Another area in which George held firm was politics. As one friend said, George was one of five people in Patrick County who would admit to being a Democrat. And there was that bumper sticker which left no question as to where he stood. But that aside, Geoge was always civil even to those with whom he disagreed. He never condemned others. George showed us how to be respectful in a world filled with hate. We need more people like George in our world.
George enjoyed joking around and having a good laugh. Who else would relish in nicknames like “Chicken George,” as the sign Mike Gillette made which he proudly displayed on his house. George always had a flock of chickens. Mike also made a sign that read “Chicken Crossings.” Motorist didn’t always abide by the sign as George lost several chickens to traffic on DeHart Road.
Trinity, a longtime friend , confided to George about leaving a pot of water on the stove. The water boiled, leaving a ruined dry pot. Geroge reassured Trinity that it won’t get any better with age. Charlie runs the kitchen at Poor Farmers. George started his day with coffee and a sausage biscuit from there. Charlie shared a story about George making her an origami ring out of a dollar bill . Then he proposed with it.
George enjoyed walking the hills around Marby Mill and Rocky Knob with his dog and always appreciated running into friends. Beth Ford tells about how she could never remember his dog’s name. They’d met up on a trail and she called the pooch, Bull Shirt, which bought laughter to George.
Beth also told me about working the polls in Meadows of Dan and how George would always stop by mid-day on election day with a treat he’d whipped up in the kitchen. He acknowledged and thanked them for their hard work and a long day that starts before sunrise and ends long after sunset.
This past election, just a few weeks ago, George came in to vote. Exhausted and not doing well, he still wanted to do his civic duty. Beth said they were willing to take a folder with a ballot inside to his car, but he insisted on coming in. He then sat down to catch his breath, smiling at everyone. He allowed her to bring over a ballot. After he voted, he said, “Thank you so much for this.” And those were the last words she heard from her friend.
Bob Potter tells about running into George at the Dollar General. He was heading into the store with a plate of cream puffs he’d made to give to the cashier on her birthday.
George was always present to help with Pancake Days and VFW spaghetti dinners. He was up early to grab coffee at Poor Farmer’s Market and to exercise with the morning stretch class. George was laid back and really wanted what is best for our community.
He was also a caring and nurturing man. He loved his mother so much that on his birthday, he’d send her flowers to thank her for giving him life. And in her later years, after she was confined to a wheelchair, he took care of her. He also helped take care of his older sister during her last days. And even while he was sick during the last months of his life, George took things in stride.
There’s a lot more that could be said about George. He was an incredible gardener and often supplied fresh flowers for Mayberry Church or brought extra produce to share. I encourage you to share your stories of George with each other today, to honor this gentle giant of a man.
We will miss him. The best way we can honor George is to learn from his demeanor, to care for others, and to jump in and help our communities thrive.
Homily for George Gorgan’s Funeral
For my homily this afternoon, I want us to look at the 23rd Psalm, a hymn of confidence which acknowledges the hurt and the pain in our world. But it also reminds us of God’s presence in times of trouble. Listen, as I read the Psalm from the King James Version.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to life down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. he restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou annointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
The author of the Psalm, credited to be the shepherd king David, knew from experience God supplied his needs. He experienced first-hand God’s mercy. Using rich metaphor’s, God is compared to a shepherd who leads his flock to fresh green grass and still waters where the sheep might be able to get a drink. George was a shepherd to his chickens, caring tenderly for them.
Just as the grass and the water restores the bodies of the sheep after a long trek through the desert, the Psalmist experienced such nourishment from God after treks through the desert of life. The God who restored his soul is the same God who restores our souls. Like a good shepherd, God revitalizes our lives when everything seems hopelessly chaotic. God as our companion can transform every situation.
Now this does not mean there is no hurt to be felt in the world. The Psalmist recognizes the deep dark valleys we must cross. A shepherd, experienced at leading his flock up through canyons and gorges, knows of the importance of being there beside his sheep. Where the trail narrows and the cliffs rise steeply on both side, danger lurks behind every bend. But the sheep remember yesterday’s taste of fresh grass and clear water, and trusting the shepherd, move forward in the face of danger.
Likewise, George experienced much trouble over the last few years as his medical challenges grew. George knew his time was short. I saw him last Thursday. He remained in bed and acknowledged the end was near but was okay with it. He trusted his Savior. I saw him again on Monday. He seemed to be doing better. He remained at peace, Although his energy remained low, at times he laughed at something said. His dog, Knucklehead, remained at his feet. At this point the decision was made that he’d be moved into hospice, which happened later that evening.
In the Psalm, an interesting stylistic shift occurs in the third verse. God is no longer spoken of in the third person as in the beginning of the Psalm. The author realizes during journeys through the valley of the shadow of death that God, like a shepherd, has become more real and more present. Instead of saying, “God is with me,” the Psalmist addresses God in the first-person present tense: “I fear no evil for you are with me.” The author admits, at times like this, he hurts and is afraid, but God is so close that he can address God intimately.
Having acknowledged God’s deeds in the past, the green grass and the still waters which provide of nourishment for our bodies and souls and having experienced God’s presence in a time of trouble, the Psalmist concluded this song with a statement of confidence in God’s future. “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
We can be comforted in God, not because of any myth which denies the existence of pain, but because God promises to be present with us when we suffer. God the Father, having experienced the death of his Son Jesus Christ, knows our pain and promises to be there with us. God the Son, as a man named Jesus, experienced death and knew what George experienced last week as he left this life. Jesus promised we would never be alone. God’s spirit is here with us, just as God’s spirit was present with George, as they moved him to hospice where he would die a day later.
God’s presence can help us cherish our memories and come to terms with George’s death. Amen.
To view George Grogan’s obituary at Norris Funeral Services, click here.
