Time Experience Thoughts

Funeral Service for Terrance Richard Tenove Prelude Music, "Amazing Grace" Welcome and Eulogy, by Scott Vanatter Music, "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother" Remarks and Eulogy, by Abe Ohanian Music, "Trees" Prayer, by David Peale Graveside Graveside Remarks, by Abe Ohanian Prayer, by Mr. Douglass [Welcome and Eulogy by Scott Vanatter] Welcome. We are gathered together to pay tribute to Terry; to extend our love and sympathy to his family, Mr. and Mrs. Tenove, his brothers Glen, Michael, Brian, and other relatives (including his grandmother, Dovie Belle Wales); and to comfort one another. We've each had our own quiet reflective times alone in the past couple of days. We may need more, but for now, we meet together to find strength in our unity and fellowship. Your presence and kindness is appreciated by Terry's family. ~ We all acknowledge that this is a difficult thing to understand. It takes time and patience to sort ...

EULOGY GIVEN BY ABE OHANIAN FOR TERRY TENOVE How did Terry touch your life? What did Terry mean to you? Join me in this reflection on the life of Terry Tenove. On March 2, 1967 this article appeared in the local newspaper. "Before a highly partisan crowd, Duarte's Hawks captured the B Division Championship in the first Regional Golden State Tournament edging the Pico-Rivera All-Stars in overtime, 30-28, on Terry Tenove's two free throws with three seconds to play." Terry went on to win the Most-Valuable Player Award that evening. Terry played his heart out that day, but then he always did. He lived his life the same way realizing his maximum possibilities and developing himself to his fullest capacity. He was an achiever. He was a Cub Scout and a Boy Scout, where he won the Order of the Arrow. He found a great means of expression through sports. He played baseball from the 2nd grade on thru Cal Poly and semi-pro ball. From Babe Ruth to Connie Mack League...

Eugene Russell Vanatter Eulogy August 17, 1932 - January 16, 2008 Eulogy delivered by Scott Vanatter, his son, January 22, 2008, in Fort Scott, Kansas. REMEMBER My Mom, our dear mother Dorothy May (Lifer) Vanatter, my sisters Gina and Tracy, the entire family, including Dad’s sisters Loretta and Kathleen, and I . . . thank each one of you for joining with us this morning. Thank you for your loving expressions of care and concern. The good people here at Cheney Witt Funeral Home have offered the most kind and comforting service; our heartfelt thanks to you, Jared, and the whole staff. Tears of Sadness and Joy Today we are here to remember Eugene Russell Vanatter—“Gene” to most of you, including to our Mom . . . but Dad and “Grandpa Gene” to us. It is entirely appropriate that we shed tears of sadness—and also tears of joy—as we remember Dad. DEATH TO UNDERSTAND ETERNAL LIFE Faith whispers to us that life is eternal; that our personal existence does not end upon our death . . . we live o...

“Forty years since our first kiss it’s been . . .” I. First (Summer and Fall of 1967, then many months later…) My arm around your shoulder . . . fresh and cool and new. Quick and sweet - though, it took an eternity to get to you. II. Best (Spring of 1970, then a few weeks later…) My arm around your shoulder - again . . . whole and serene and calm. Long and pure - this dreamlike kiss lingers on. Time and our hearts stand still. Walking away; down the street, Floating. Just off the ground, I walk along. Can’t hear. Can barely breathe; don’t care. Hearts swelled; hearts warm. Numb with feeling; lips still tingling. Touch my finger to my lips; checking this is real (and remembering). It is; it is no dream. Can never forget; it's never far from my sweetest thoughts. Even today. Even now. III. Sweetest (Senior Year, 1971-1972) The day, the night, the moment I purpose to tell you With all my heart I love you, With my whole trembling soul, My voice breaks My voice ...

We Meet, 1967 Looking across the shrinking room; coming closer towards that face. Surely this is a part of me , forgotten about; but a part that is so natural and pleasant. Easily we talk and continue to look -- without looking away. Happy Together, 1967-1968 Growing so accustomed to that face; Not just the eyes, but the whole face -- the whole person behind that face. Everyday imagination leaps immediately to that image -- to that face. Nightly dreaming of that face eases me into slumber. Holding Hands, 1967 Now I know I have lost something. What? It was here; I just had it. Where did it go? I want it back. Ah. That's it. The touch that further connects. A Chance Meeting, 1970 After so long, I am amazed At how lovely, glowing, and even eternal is that face. Can't stop stealing peeks at that face. Can't stop gazing at that face. I can't stop dreaming of that face. We Meet Again, 1971 Another time. Almost can't look at that face. Try not to be too obvious. I wa...

My '55 Chevy. (1972)

At the Duarte High School Senior Prom, on the Queen Mary. (1972)

Becky comes back to a Duarte High School dance, sophomore year. She had blossomed into a young woman; I was still just a skinny kid. But, 'O what a lucky [kid I] was!' (1969-1970)

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. "The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena , whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat." (Excerpt from a speech by Theodore Roosevelt at the Sorbonne, Paris, France, April 23, 1910.)