This is the eulogy I gave for my father on July 30,'05. He died the preceding Tuesday, July 26. The bibliography for the Mark Twain reference can be found in Huckleberry Finn. The song is traditional.

"When I was a boy there was a song I'm sure that most of you know:"John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt: his name is my name too...".Obviously, it wasn't much of a stretch to change the lyrics in my head to "John Jacob Robert Sterling Schmid..." As far as I knew John Jacob could have been a distant ancestor. However, Robert Sterling Schmid, well, his name is my name, too.
As I've listened to people talk about my father since this fateful Tuesday morning two topics always seem to crop up: how much people depended upon him and the smile he always seemed to have to give.
When I was younger the idea of having people depend on me seemed like such a burden, a sort of shackle imprisoning from the freedom of the outside world. Now that I'm older I know that having people depend on you can give you the feeling the you've done something good for the world, that you have something to contribulte, something to offer, a way to change the world for the better.I've heard this as an argument for why true altrusim doesn't exist, because you do get something back. Perhaps that's why my father had so many people depend on him, because he got something out of it inside.
Then, of course was his smile; that which he had to offer seemingly everyone all the time, his co-workers, his friends, those with whom he attended church, the people he met on the other side of the cash register, his waitor or waitress, pretty much the whole world. Of course, beiund his son I had the privilege of seeing him when he was angry too- I was even the cause of it my fair share of the time. ;) But it was a privilege, because that means that I knew him just a little better than most people, and I am fortunate to have had such a man for a father.
I was fortunate enough to grow up in a traditional nuclear family with both parents and even a full set of grandparents to nurture me. Even a strong nuclear family such as ours experiences it's times of strain. When my adolescence began so did our growing pains and there were times Ifelt that having a family could be a pain in the posterior. I'm wiser now of course, but it's only really been in the past year or so as Anne has found a husband, and I have found that woman I will marry and start a family of my own with that I've really felt that I was still a part of the family that I frew up with again. I know that Dad felt joy seeing us find the ones for which Anne and I could add to his family.
Have you ever heard the story of the Emperor of America? He was someone Mark Twain claimed to have met once. Now the Emperor of America obviously held no official office. He simply claimed that that was who he was. He might as well have claimed to be Napolean, right? But beyond that he was a harmless fellow, even helpful as he went about fulfilling his so-called duties as Emperor. And do you knw that when he died people came from all across the United States to attend his funeral. Look around you today. Not exactly a small funderal service is it?" [Note: while I wrote this before the service the church was indeed packed beyond capacity. They set up extra chairs because the pews were full!] "Now it's been said that I can get along with most anyone, my best friend says I even have his sense of humour, but I still haven't mastered his smile, I could only hope to have even half as large a funderal as my father.
My father: Robert Sterling Schmid.
Whenever we go out the people always shout..."