This is a reflection I wrote mostly from my father’s bedside before he died.  Following this reflection, is a modified version that became the Eulogy I gave at his funeral on January 4th.

Personal Refection on Life with Dad

On Friday December 8, 2023, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, I got a call from my oldest daughter Kaitlyn Brindle (Seton Class of 2003) announcing the arrival of Colleen and my 16^th grandchild, Kaitlyn’s 8^th child – Emily Marie Brindle, 8 lbs., 8 oz, 20 inches long.  Baby and Grandpa are doing fine.

God’s plan for our lives is often compared to a big circle where some come, and some go, all in the natural cycle of life.  In my case, I took the call from Kaitlyn while sitting at my father’s bedside at hospice.  He just turned 86 on November 29^th which has been a remarkable run for a man with only one (1) kidney his entire life.  That limitation finally caught up to him.

On Friday, December 15^th, with his wife and four (4) sons at his side, RADM James E. Koehr, USN Ret – Dad – was quietly and peacefully taken to our Lord.

For those of you who have listened to my talks over the years, you know what a big influence my father has been on my life.  The son of man whose father died while he was in the womb and a woman with only an 8^th grade education, he was the first in our family to go to college.

He had none of the advantages in life that his sons and grandchildren do, yet he rose to become the first Admiral in the history of US Naval Oceanography and Meteorology and sent two (2) sons to Notre Dame and the two (2) others to the US Naval Academy.  He has truly lived the American Dream.

Because he was an Admiral, I know he would be particularly proud to learn that Navy is going to fly his grandson, US Navy Chaplain Fr. Sean Koehr (Seton class of 2008) in from the USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71) to celebrate his funeral mass.

As a young man with parents that did not particularly value education, he somehow intuitively knew that education was the key to escaping the cycle of mediocrity in life.  He convinced his father that he needed to go to St. Louis University High School, the Jesuit high school where all the “rich kids” went.  He covered the tuition himself.

When you hear me remind you that

any advantages or disadvantages

can be negated or overcome

by the choices you make

I am thinking of him.

Then he moved on to St. Louis University and eventually Officer Candidate School (OCS) for the US Navy.  As a young Naval Officer, he treated every assignment as if it were the most important job in the Navy.  I have a picture of my father in my house with an inscription I often think about.  The picture is above, and the inscription is in the upper right corner.

When you hear me tell you to

“Bloom Where You are Planted.”

I am thinking of him.

His excellent choices continued as a young Naval Officer when, 61 years ago, he married a Navy Nurse who was the youngest orphaned daughter of Italian immigrants who was raised in a company coal mining town.  Her father was crushed in the mine when she was five (5) and her mother died of a “broken heart” when she was in 7^th grade.  One of her older sisters delayed telling her the news by making her empty the family chamber pot.

If you meet my mother today, you would never know that she did not have indoor plumbing until she was 13-years old – she is certainly a ball of fire.  My father has given her a great life with her four (4) boys – and vice versa.  They have been quite a team.

When I was a young boy, I had a leg-length discrepancy that required me to wear an inch and a half rubber lift on the bottom of my right shoe.  With the technology at the time, this meant that I had to exclusively wear leather dress shoes, even while playing sports.  In today’s world, I would be considered handicapped, but in one of the greatest gifts my father could give me, that word never occurred to me until I was in my 30s, long after the problem was finally corrected.

My father never made even the slightest accommodation for this issue.  Like most boys of my generation, I played football in the fall, basketball in the winter, and baseball in the spring – all in dress shoes with the lift.  I was never particularly good at any of those sports, but I was the starting left guard for an 80 lb. football team that played for the Fairfax County championship, I could be counted upon to make a lay-up while running full speed, and I eventually succeeded in reliably catching, throwing, and hitting a baseball.

While not a word was ever spoken by him about my limitation, his message to me was unmistakable – I just had to try harder than everybody else.

When you hear me say

“Never play the victim, even if you are.”

I am thinking of him.

It was an unspoken but clarion message that became so ingrained in me, I carried it into adulthood with everything I do, including coaching all of you.

Which leads to one final way that you have all directly experienced my father’s influence – our definition of “excellence”.  My father’s most common question to me as a kid was “Did you do your best?”  It did not matter if I was a terrible runner or struggled to play football in the mud if I tried as hard as I could.  The hammer really came down if he didn’t think I did.

When you hear me say

“Just do the best you can today, whatever that is”

 I am thinking of him.

On the surface, my father and I are almost nothing alike.  A son of depression-era parents, he was completely baffled when I quit my job as a corporate Vice President to run without a net as an entrepreneur.  He was particularly baffled that I did it when Colleen was 8-months pregnant with our 10^th child.  I can still hear his colorful Navy language.

But in the ways that matter most, I am the product of my father’s vocation as my father.  I will love my Catholic faith as he did, I will love my wife as he did, I will push my kids to faithful excellence as he did, and I will always strive to answer “yes” when I hear him ask

“Did you do your best?”

*********************************************************************

Eulogy for Dad, January 4, 2024

Here is a video delivering the Eulogy in a St. Louis Cardinals Jersey

Here is a video of Coach Patrick Mulhern singing for my mother as I listen just before giving the Eulogy.

Opening

• At the end,
  • Between imagining listening with his father to Harry Carey’s call of his beloved Cardinals winning the 1964 National League pennant,
  • Taking imaginary calls from the Chief of Naval Operations, or
  • Reciting his childhood prayers
• Dad started talking about going somewhere
  • “Where are you going Admiral?”, asked the Nurse
  • His eyes opened, his voice cleared, and looking directly at her, he said,
    • “I think I’m going to a funeral!”

• We can be sad for ourselves, but the man was ready.
  • When mom made a comment that the dialysis didn’t work, he just laughed,
    • “Didn’t work! I’m 86 years old!”
  • He certainly had a remarkable run for a man with only one (1) kidney.

• First stop, present himself to his parents in his Admiral’s uniform.
  • Second stop, meet Stan Musiel.

Introductions of Brothers

• For those who haven’t figured it out yet, I’m Jim Koehr (also)
  • Better known as #1 son.
• We all think that my brother Bernie, normally #3 son, has earned that designation from me though
  • Thank you, Bernie, for all you have done, and continue to do for our folks.
• Of course, #4 son Brian was always the favorite, so a lot of us figured he was actually #1 son all along
  • And after helping Dad in the hospital with functions required while your kidneys are still nominally working, he earned the #1 son designation for another reason too.
• Then #2 son, John, really stepped up in the hospital as #2 son in a different way
  • Which certainly makes him #1 son in my book!
• So, Mom, I guess you have four (4) #1 sons

Body of Eulogy

• It is impossible to underestimate the influence my father has had on my life.
  • In most ways, I am the product of his life.

• The son of man whose father died while he was in the womb and
  • a woman with only an 8^th grade education,
  • he was the first in our family to go to college.
• He had none of the advantages in life that his sons and grandchildren do,
  • yet he rose to become the first Admiral in the history of US Naval Oceanography and Meteorology and
  • He sent two (2) sons to Notre Dame and the two (2) others to the US Naval Academy.
    • Two (2) went on to study at the most elite MBA schools in the nation and
    • one (1) even earned a PhD.
  • He has truly lived the American Dream.

• Because he was an Admiral,
  • I know he would be particularly proud to know that the Navy has flown in his grandson, US Navy Chaplain Fr. Sean Koehr, from the USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71) to celebrate his funeral mass.

• As a young man with parents that did not particularly value education,
  • He somehow intuitively knew that education was the key to escaping the cycle of mediocrity he saw in his extended family.
  • He convinced his father that he needed to go to Louis University High School,
    • the Jesuit high school where all the “rich kids”
    • He covered the tuition

So, to my children and their children, when you hear me remind you that

Any of your advantages or disadvantages

can be negated or overcome

by the choices you make

I am thinking of him.

• Then he moved on to Louis University and eventually Officer Candidate School (OCS) for the US Navy.
  • As a young Naval Officer, he treated every assignment as if it were the most important job in the Navy.
  • He was far from a pretentious
    • I didn’t grow up with an Admiral
    • The guy I knew had a bowling bag in the front closet
  • I have a picture of my father in my house with an inscription I often think about.

So, to my children and their children, when you hear me tell you to

“Bloom Where You are Planted”

I am thinking of him.

• His excellent choices continued as a young Naval Officer when, 61 years ago,
  • He married a Navy Nurse who was the youngest orphaned daughter of Italian immigrants, raised in a company coal mining town.
  • Her father was crushed in the mine when she was five (5) and
    • her mother died of a “broken heart” when she was in 7^th
    • One of her older sisters delayed telling her the news by making her empty the family chamber pot.
  • If you know my mother today,
    • you would never know that she did not have indoor plumbing until she was 13-years old
      • She is certainly a ball of fire.
    • My father has given her a great life with her four (4) boys – and vice versa.
  • They have been quite a team, and
    • My father knew that.
  • Each of us has, at some point, has heard him tell us,
    • “Your mother held this family together when we had nothing. So, now that I can, I’m going to give her anything she wants for the rest of her life.”

• When I was a young boy, I had a leg-length discrepancy that required me to wear an inch and a half rubber lift on the bottom of my right shoe.
  • With the technology at the time, this meant that I had to exclusively wear leather dress shoes, even while playing sports.
    • In today’s world, I would be considered “handicapped”, but
    • In one of the greatest gifts my father could have given me,
      • that word never occurred to me until I was in my 30s,
      • long after the problem was finally corrected.
    • My father never made even the slightest accommodation for this issue.
      • While not a word was ever spoken by him about my limitation,
        • his message to me was unmistakable
        • I just had to try harder than everybody else.

So, to my children and their children, when you hear me say

“Never play the victim, even if you are”

I am thinking of him.

• His was an unspoken, but clarion message that became so ingrained in me, I carried it into adulthood with everything I do.
  • Which leads to one final way that all of you, my children, have directly experienced my father’s influence too,
  • In my definition of “excellence”.
• My father’s most common question to me as a kid was “Did you do your best?”
  • It did not matter if I was a terrible runner or struggled to play football in the mud
    • As long as I tried as hard as I could.
  • The hammer really came down if he didn’t think I did.

So, to my children and their children, when you hear me say

“Just do the best you can today, whatever that is”

 I am thinking of him.

Conclusion

• On the surface, my father and I were almost nothing alike.
  • A son of depression-era parents, he was completely baffled when I quit my job as a corporate Vice President to run without a net as an entrepreneur.
    • “Son, you can’t keep going through life pushing on doors marked ‘pull’”, he’d tell me.
    • I can still hear the rest of his colorful Navy language
  • What he didn’t realize was that by providing me with a life of near absolute safety and security, he provided me with the net I seemed to be running without.
  • I don’t think I even understood that myself until my very wise son Sean explained it to me last night.

• But, despite our many differences, in the ways that matter most, I am the product of my father’s vocation as my father.
  • I will love my Catholic faith as he did,
  • I will love my wife as he did,
  • I will push my kids to faithful excellence as he did, and
  • I will always strive to answer “yes” when I hear him ask

“Did you do your best?”