Saturday, June 25, 2011

Harry F. Stoeckert (1926-2011)

June 24, 2011



“For everything there is a season,” says the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes, “and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; time to keep, and a time to throw away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.”

Many people read those words in Ecclesiastes 3:1-12 or recognize them when they hear them, but it has occurred to me as I have listened in recent days to Harry stories and Harry-isms that Harry Stoeckert lived them. There is a time to climb up on the roof of the house on Long Island to turn the television antenna toward Connecticut to pull in the blacked-out Giants home games, and there is a time to send Scott up on the roof to turn the television antenna toward Connecticut. There is a time to let Erin come and go as she pleases, grabbing the clean clothes she needs off the stairs as she runs up to change, and a time to tell her she needs to apologize to her mother, show her more respect, and be more responsible for her own upkeep. There is a time to work—two jobs to provide for a family of six—and a time to play Big Shamu and Little Shamus with the grandkids in the pool in Windemere, Florida.

There is a time for war, and a time for peace. You would have thought Harry was a career Navy man for as important as his military service during World War II was to him. The old Navy recruiting slogan, “Join the Navy, see the world,” fit Harry to a T, and he was proud of it. The Navy didn’t take him to tiny Treverton, Pennsylvania, but two days after he was discharged, he arrived there to finally meet the girl he had been corresponding with for two years, the cousin of his buddy Frank. In 1948, he said to Ellen, “What do you think about getting married?” She said, “I never thought about it.” He said, “I think you should start thinking about it,” and it lasted very nearly 63 years through four children, seven grandchildren, and a great-grandchild.

“What a Wonderful World,” indeed, thanks in large part to men like Harry Stoeckert, who served their country well in wartime and in peacetime, and who provided for their families, not only by their hard work and the occasional care packages they received from him but also by their delight in play. (O.K., so maybe those hard-packed snowballs that brought you to your knees when they nailed you in the back of the leg were not so delightful.) But the model of a life well lived that Pop Harry offers us all—for everything a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven—is to celebrate and to remember under the heading of the anonymous proverb, “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.” Or the Harry-ism, “Move your feet, lose your seat.” Or “Hi, kid.” Or “COD!” Or “I never forget anything I remember.” Or “Ruff-Ruff.”

All of which is to say, “What a Wonderful World” because you choose to make it that way for yourself and for others. Can’t get tickets to Giants home games? No problem. Take the family on the road to see them play in Atlanta, Dallas, Tampa, Miami, New Orleans, D.C., Cleveland, Jacksonville, the Super Bowl.

The thing about Harry is, he made you love him. In the grocery store, at the pharmacy, where he said his name was pronounced “Stoh-kaire,” at the bank—everybody knew him. When Ellen went to Publix with him one day, the cashier asked her, “Is that your husband?” Ellen answered, “Yes,” and the woman replied, “God help you.” Kay was sitting in an office at the bank one day trying to sort out a long-running snafu with an account when Harry’s beloved little dog Jacque trotted into the office as though he owned the place and jumped up in her lap. “Well, hello Jacque,” Kay said, a bit surprised. “You know Jacque?” the banker asked. “That’s my father,” Kay replied, pointing into the lobby at Harry. “I see,” said the banker, and the banking snafu cleared up immediately. I guess when you buy a $20 dog at the Jockey Lot and name him Jacque Elat, the world will treat you like a Stoh-kaire. What a wonderful world, because you choose to make it that way.

Harry was a man of few words, and sometimes none at all. After all, there is a time to keep silence, right? When Jerry asked Harry for his permission to marry Ann, Harry said, “I’ll have to think about that.” At Jerry and Ann’s 35th wedding anniversary, Jerry said, “Harry, you never answered my question.” “What question is that?” asked Harry. “If I have your permission to marry Ann.” Without missing a beat, Harry said, “I’m still thinking about it.” “For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.”

Ecclesiastes goes on to say, “I have seen the business that God has given to everyone to be busy with. He has made everything suitable for its time; moreover he has put a sense of past and future into their minds, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. I know that there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they live; moreover, it is God’s gift that all should eat and drink and take pleasure in all their toil. I know that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it; God has done this, so that all should stand in awe before him. That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already is; and God seeks out what has gone by.”

Those words are the ground of the wisdom of Ecclesiastes, and they are every bit as much the ground of Harry stories and Harry-isms. So even as we cry because it’s over, we smile because it happened. There is “a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; time to keep, and a time to throw away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.”

May the God of peace grant Harry peace eternal, and may God grant each of you peace now and forever.

Let us pray.
“May everlasting light shine upon them, O Lord, with your Saints forever, for you are kind. Grant them eternal rest, O Lord, and may everlasting light shine upon them with your Saints forever, for you are merciful. Amen.”

Copyrighted © 2011 by Jeffrey S. Rogers. It may be copied or disseminated for non-commercial use, provided this notice is included. The author can be contacted at jeffrogers110@bellsouth.net.


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