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My Friend's Eulogy For His Father

nunnnunn Forums Admins, Member, Moderator Posts: 36,078 ******
edited January 3 in General Discussion

Eulogy for Sgt. Harold Horning of the Texas National Guard, veteran of WWII. The author is his son David, a classmate of mine and friend for over 50 years. I have the privilege of owning the 1911 Colt that Sgt. Horning brought back from WWII.

I thought some of you might enjoy what David wrote about his Dad.

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Planting pine trees in his back yard and accidentally mowing one down

Getting more paint on himself than whatever he was painting

Visiting neighboring campsites at the crack of dawn with his coffeepot and “Coffeeman” towel cape

Scaring the bejeezus out of kids listening to ghost stories around a campfire

Gutting a catfish to the amazement of city-slicker kids at Lake Texoma

The Yosemite Sam mudflaps on the back of his stepside pickup

The steering wheel knob on that truck, with a picture of Mom in it

Checking the rain gauge whether it rained or not

He saw the advent of the automobile.

He saw Man develop flight, and then spaceflight to the moon!

He saw the horrors of World War II and what it took for Man to vanquish Evil, if only for a while. During that war he acquitted himself admirably, earning four Bronze Stars and other commendations. His occasional screams during nightmares of the war were the only references made to the horrific aspects of that terror, and when pressed for an accounting he would only relay the comedic adventures the soldiers undertook to relieve the stress. He would nevertheless always tear up whenever he heard “The Star Spangled Banner”.

He saw the beginning of the Nuclear Age, the Digital Age, and many miraculous technologies that are now taken for granted.

He enjoyed the lifelong camaraderie of a few close friends: Buster and Billy Overton, Bob Lee, Johnny Eckert, and A.J. Averitt.

He touched the lives of many, many more.

He was a man of his word, with impeccable integrity, and he was my hero, with or without his “Coffeeman" cape.

He loved to fish and hunt.

He loved whichever beer was on sale.

He had zero fashion sense and selected his wardrobe for its functional aspects.

He loved his family and friends deeply, and told them so on extremely rare occasions.

He told me on April the 6th.

Life often laughed at him, but he laughed right back.

Remember Harold Horning, and laugh at Life.

There are many more Harold stories that can be told. Tell them. Celebrate the life of my Dad, a warrior, a hero, and a man whose dream was to run barefoot across an acre of t i t t i e s.



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