My Dad

Two years ago this morning, my Dad, at age 90, passed away.  He was a "gold card" member of the greatest generation.  He grew up in the depression years of the 1930's and marched off to war in the 40's.  He was humble about his accomplishments, and loved his wife and family above and beyond the reasonable.

He sustained a non-combat injury during the war, and forever-after walked with a limp.  His Coast Guard shipmates, many years later, told me he sustained the only and worst injury of any of them.  While he was in the hospital, they went on to Iwo Jima, and I don't think he ever got over not being with his buddies in the heat of that battle.

He practiced law professionally, and became a 50 year member of the Oregon State Bar before retiring.  He never became rich from his law practice, but was well known for being a good lawyer, and above all, he was known as being an honest attorney and person.  His daughters do not recall being denied anything while growing up in the 50's and 60's, and both of us graduated from universities without having to work or contribute financially to our education.

Dad loved us all without question.  He patiently saw his beloved wife, Irma, through many physical challenges, including hip replacement surgery twice, Crone's disease, the beginning stages of Alzheimer's disease, right through to the worst, when she had to live separately, because he was unable to provide her with the care she needed. 

He loved the game of golf.   Most weekends he could be found at his golf club, playing 18 holes with his buddies.  The apex of his golfing came when he was able to teach the game to all three of his grandsons.  He was so proud that each of them could drive a ball further than he could.  As his Parkinson's disease progressed his greatest frustration was being unable to golf any longer.

He loved reading a good mystery novel, watching detective and lawyer shows on TV.  He also loved chocolate candy --- any kind.  In his later years he developed at taste for Dove, dark chocolate candy.

His daughters, sons-in-law, grandsons and granddaughters miss him more than I can describe. 

We buried him with military honors, on March 23, 2012, with his golf putter and a shower of Dove dark chocolate candy.

I miss you every darned day, Dad.

Harvey W. Keller
b. February 11, 1922
d. March 21, 2012