Five months ago my grandpa, Carl Landes, passed away. He was a war hero, who served in the Korean and Vietnam Wars.
Today I'm honoring him on Memorial Day by sharing the written version of the eulogy I delivered at his memorial service. I would go on to do a second eulogy at his assisted living center's service the following day. It was quite a bit different than this version.
The service started with a short welcome and then the color guard played taps and performed the 21-gun salute. I nearly lost it, and it was my turn to talk.
I opened with this line that wasn't written, "When you hear taps and the 21-gun salute, it means a hero has left us. The person wasn't a normal citizen, they went above and beyond for all of us."
I didn't read from the pages, so my speech was a bit different, but it carried the same overall message.
I've thought about my grandpa daily since his passing. I wish I could have learned more about him when he was alive, but I'm proud to share his story here for others to learn about him.
The eulogy:
A hero was born in Watford City, North Dakota, on Oct. 17, 1931. It was a North Dakota fall moving toward another bitter cold winter. He once told me that. He said there was cold and then there's cold at home. A bitter cold.
He was raised by his grandmother Sadie. Likely his first real love in life. She was a woman who traded a gold coin for groceries or as payment to the doctor. She always paid them and got her gold coin back. This was his first lesson in business, and it stuck with him. He cherished that gold coin. This weekend I held it for the first time, and I learned that story.
I've learned a lot about him this week. At 12 or 13 he converted a car into a flatbed and drove while sitting on a bucket, house to house to remove ashes and then load coal into the stoves. He also shot coyotes from a kit plane with his Winchester rifle and then dusted crops in the spring and summer.
It was around this time he moved out of the house and into a shed like structure with friends. This was in the midst of World War 2. By the time he was in high school America had dropped the bombs in Japan. Soon the North Dakota farm boy would find his self in war.
Carl left high school before his graduation to enlist in the US Army. He started his career as a member of the famed 101st Airborne Division. His 101st jump came when he entered the Korean War. As he floated down from the sky, he watched Triple A fire fly by. He once lost his helmet and a bullet grazed his scalp.
He watched the Chinese come down the side of a mountain, candles in their hands, which made it look like the forest was on fire. When it came time to shoot, they fired until their barrels melted then they found another gun. They ate rats for meals.
It was during the Korean War that he earned the Medal of Valor for belly crawling up a hill then tossing a grenade in a sniper's blind, killing the enemy and saving his platoon's life.
These aren't the only stories I learned.
My grandpa with friends in Germany. Early 1950s. The only version of this photo I currently have is one I saved on Snapchat, hence the heart.
He spent time in Germany where he fell in and out of love. When he found out his wife was using him for access to America, he left her behind when he returned stateside. It explains the empty spots in his photo album. I always knew he was a ladies man, but I never thought about him being an international ladies man.
Last Wednesday, my dad called and told me grandpa had terminal cancer. I knew I had to come down. On Friday, I got to spend time with him. He was unresponsive. I held his hand and bent over and talked to him. As I finished, he squeezed my hand then it went limp. He knew I was there. That made me so happy. After that squeeze I continued to hold his hand.
I couldn't help but think about his hands and how they killed and healed many.
All I know about his time in Vietnam was that he was a medic, and he was there from 1969-70. I know it was a tough time. The attitude of America didn't help. Despite everything he was a patriot in the truest sense. He always voted, and he always had an opinion.
His proudest military accomplishment came when he helped design and test a field dialysis machine for those with diabetes. He would later battle the disease himself.
HIs military career came to an end in 1972.
Before Vietnam, Carl became a father two times: Donella and my dad, Tim. After the war he became a dad again when Carl Jr. was born.
Following his military career, he became a fleet manager for Mrs. Baird's, where he worked until a second retirement in 1994. It was at this job I learned another story about him. Among some of his military papers was a handwritten letter from a man who had been fired. They guy wrote my grandpa because he couldn't face him. In the letter, he talked about how he couldn't understand how my grandpa had tried to help him so many times. He also helped the man with his children. The man claimed grandpa had helped him realize he could still do good in the world. That was who my grandpa was.
It was around this time that I met Carl. He and his wife, Lisa, stopped by on their way to North Dakota. It was 1989. Up until this point he was like G.I. Joe to me. He was a mythical war hero I only knew about through stories my dad told me. From that point on he started becoming my grandpa.
In 1993, we made out first trip to San Antonio. We toured Mrs. Baird's then went to his house. That was my first real experience in American-Mexican relations. I vividly remember Lisa talking on the phone. Her voice getting louder as she seemed to be speaking faster. I asked grandpa if every was OK, and he said, "That's how she talks when she's happy. You should hear how she talks to me when she's mad at me."
He loved Lisa. He would watch Univision or Telemundo for hours with her. I once asked if he could understand what they were saying and he said, "No, but Lisa likes it. Plus she'd get really mad if I changed the channel."
It was because of Lisa that grandpa had Brad come into his life. Carl and Brad had a special relationship. He treated Brad like a son even after the rifle incident, the truck incident and probably cheating at Skip-Bo to beat him because that's the only way grandpa said he could lose a game.
After Lisa passed, grandpa found a new companion in Gussie. She kept him on his toes. They made a great pair. They spent their evenings watching Westerns, shows like Prison Break and when he wasn't watching TV, he would sit at his computer and play solitaire.
Then came Apache, his best friend. Apache was a huge German Shepherd that went everywhere with him. He really loved that dog.
I learned another story this week. Grandpa and Gussie used to watch Emily and Katie after school. Katie loved the cartoon "Little Bear." He and Katie would watch it together every day. Turns out he also watched it when Katie wasn't around.
About a decade ago my dad moved down here to be closer to his father. As a son and grandson it was a beautiful thing to watch. They quickly made up for lost time and became inseparable. My dad was there for the good times and the tough ones as grandpa's health started to decline.
There were many doctor visits, which also meant many visits to Ihop and Denny's. Grandpa had a sweet tooth. Just last year we celebrated my birthday for the first time together. We went to Denny's where he got treated like it was his special day because the waitstaff knew and loved him.
Carl loved everyone who came into his life. He would write a check for someone in need and not push them to pay him back. He loved to tell jokes. Even in his worst condition he'd crack a joke to lighten the mood in the room.
My grandpa was a legendary man.
On Friday night surrounded by my dad, Dianna (my stepmom), Brad and me, my grandpa moved on so he could get back to playing with Apache and seeing long lost friends and family. He did all he could here and it was time for him to move on.
I know he doesn't want us to be sad right now. He'd be upset to see all the tears. He'd tell us to stop crying and instead crack a joke and laugh. That's who he was.
While he's no longer here physically, I know he's with all of us spiritually.
On behalf of my family, thank you for attending this service, and more importantly, thank you for being a part of his life. He loved and cared about all of you.
That's the man he was.
My grandpa and me around 2011, I think.