John Fox Graham

Note from author/son: my dad in my own words. I’ve included his obituary at the bottom. An obituary is a news article. This is a eulogy. How he put bread on the table is important (I wound up putting bread on the table like he did) but it is not the full measure of the person. When you go to a funeral and loved ones speak about the deceased, you can plumb the depths of that person.

John Fox Graham

Hello everyone. On behalf of my mom, Jeff, Dave, Gay, and the rest of the family, I’d like to welcome you and thank you for coming today.

Jack Graham was a lot of things to a lot of people. He was a son, a brother, a husband, a father, and a friend to so many people who he touched in so many ways during his life. I have the pleasure of remembering and recounting some of the stories Dad told me about himself and his life.

The earliest story I remember was one Dad told about his brother Bill. They had gone out in a snowstorm when they were living in Massachusetts (was he 4 or 5?) and had wandered quite far from home, and to hear Dad tell it, frostbite was setting in and he was truly wondering if he was going to make it home alive. Big Brother Bill was there and Dad said Bill put him on his back and carried him home. I wish you could have heard the love in his voice for his brother as he told that story.

Was it surprising that Dad later became a volunteer and president of the Baltimore Chapter of Big Brothers of Maryland?

Dad was the fourth of five children, and he told me more than a few times about his survival strategy growing up. When asked how he was doing, he’d always reply, “Ok!. Thus was born the OK Kid. Dad believed this allowed him to fly under the radar and although he didn’t share many of the stories about his high school and college wildness you’d expect, I imagine he was granted many indulgences.

There was ONE story he told about being up in Martha’s Vineyard staying with his sister Virginia. If you didn’t know Aunt Ginna, you need to understand that she was a very proper lady, many years Dad’s senior. Anyway, Dad had gone to a party early in the day and had whooped it up. He came back to the house and went upstairs to sleep it off. Later in the day, Aunt Ginna and some friends who were visiting from Smith College were chatting downstairs. Nature called to Dad and he answered the call with the minimum of effort, if you know what I mean. Aunt Ginna’s friends looked out the window and remarked that on such a beautiful day it had begun to rain! Aunt Ginna screamed “Jack Graham! I think Dad caught some hell that day. But not too much because they all chuckled when telling that story about the OK Kid.

Dad was a loving husband. Did you know that Jack and Gay were coming up on their 60th wedding anniversary?

My favorite story about their courtship was this: At one time, their mutual good friend Al Sisson was dating mom. Dad said Al came up to him when he was leaving to go into the service. “Jack”, he said, “take care of Gay when I’m gone”. And dad did for 60+ years.

Dad often let slip remarks about how beautiful my mom was and how passionately he was in love with her. They had a wonderful life together.

Dad had joie de vivre, and with that passion for life came friends. He had friends everywhere. People liked him. He was a good man. He was an honest man. And he was often the life of the party.

What didn’t Dad do? He jumped into so many things and had such fun doing them. He was an athlete and loved to compete at everything. He played lacrosse at Princeton and was honorable mention All American for two years at midfield and attack.

He loved to sail and he loved to win. I need my brothers and sisters to tell you the stories about the sailing adventures because they were his steady crew. But when I did sail with him, it was a real education and I got to see just how competitive he was. One time we had started the race and Dad all of sudden looked very concerned. Quietly he said, “Get the halyard!”. I knew it sounded important but still wasn’t seeing anything that looked like a halyard. He said a little louder “Get the Halyard!”. I still didn’t see anything that resembled a halyard (Remember – on a boat sheets are ropes, so anything goes when it comes to naming things). “GET THE (expletive deleted) HALYARD!” At that point I sat down and said “I’m not doing a thing until you tell me what a halyard is. He did and I secured that piece of wire to the mast and all was well.

Dad was a sailor and a pilot, a Sunday school teacher, a volunteer for Meals on Wheels and past president of Big Brothers of Maryland. He loved music and played the piano and sang. Who could forget Granddad, uncles Jim and Bill, Aunt Ginna and the cousins singing barbershop tunes. I remember Dad sitting down to the piano and playing Summertime and Can’t Help Lovin Dat Man and the great show tunes.

He was also a businessman and a businessowner. He was a boss, and I can’t tell you how many people he worked with who have come up to me and told me what a great guy he was to work with and work for. One person said “If you looked up the word gentleman in the dictionary, you’d find “Jack Graham”.

So he was all these things, but to me and my brothers and sister, Jack was Dad. He raised us and he taught us. How to ride a bike, how to drink out of the faucet by cupping your hands, how to softboil an egg. He passed down his famous recipe, Mulligan’s Stew with Franco American Spaghetti O’s. And instructed us in the art of conversation where he said there were three levels, things, people, and ideas. “you want to be up in the people and ideas as much as possible”.

He taught us about the importance of Attitude, and told the story of the 2 kids, one an optimist and one a pessimist. You know it, right? A psychologist puts the pessimist into a room full of brand new toys, and the optimist into a room full of horse manure. An hour later, the doctor returns and checks on the young pessimist. When asked how he was doing, the pessimist complained of being bored and having nothing to do. The doctor checks on the other kids and finds him digging away furiously. Puzzled, the doctor asks the kid what he is doing. The kid replies “Well, I figured since there was so much horse dung in here, there must be a horse in here somewhere too.

That lesson took a while to settle in and Dad would reinforce it by reminding us. “Your attitude stinks!” he would say.

The last 10 years of Dad’s life were a real challenge. There were many bumps along the way but he never lost that attitude. A few weeks ago I saw him and asked how he was doing, even though I knew how he was really doing. He replied, “Couldn’t be better”.

Dad had a deep faith and a strong connection to God. This never left him. When the storm clouds appeared 10 years ago, I’m sure Dad must have thought “Why me?”. But I never heard him complain about the Parkinsons or the mini-strokes or the other slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Dad had prepared himself well, and he was ready for the storm with his own foul weather gear. The storm came and he weathered that long storm.

We know he is in a far better place now and I imagine every day is a sunny day on the Vineyard with a good breeze and a sailboat at hand.

Dad, you won the race.

Just for contrast, here is the official obituary.