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WELSH TALES OF RICHARD S. HUMPHREY

 


 

Life Celebration of the Luckiest Man Alive 

 

Welcome & Opening Remarks                                                                Mom

 

Violin Piece #1 – Beautiful Dreamer                                                         Kandace

 

Reflection/Eulogy (Poem)                                                                       Sandy 

 

Reflection/Eulogy (Daffodils)                                                                    Karen

  

Video Presentation – Dad’s Life in Pictures                                              Karen

  

(Reading from emails of friends not present)                                             Bob Humphrey 

 

Violin Piece #2 – Somewhere My Love                                                     Kandace

  

(Readings from those not present)                                                           Mom

  

Reflections/Stories from those present                                                     Kathy Queen et al

 

 

The Luckiest Man Alive from Karen Montgomery on Vimeo.

 

Grandpaisms

cinnamon rolls

lellow

hiya kid, hiya

Hi, Monkey Face

chief cook and bottle washer

Have a nice weekend

Sure 'nuf

Check with the boss

Nighty-night

Upside-down Timeout

Yesh

 

Favorite Poems

 

Big Molicepan

Once a big molicepan

Saw a bittle lum

Sitting on the sturbcone

Chewing gubblebum.

"Lum," said the molicepan,

"Better simme gome."

"Tot on your nintype,"*

Said the bittle lum.

 

“Fuzzy-Wuzzy”
(Soudan Expeditionary Force)
by Rudyard Kipling
WE’VE fought with many men acrost the seas,
 An’ some of ’em was brave an’ some was not:
The Paythan an’ the Zulu an’ Burmese;
 But the Fuzzy was the finest o’ the lot.
We never got a ha’porth’s change of ’im:
 ’E squatted in the scrub an’ ’ocked our ’orses,
’E cut our sentries up at Suakim,
 An’ ’e played the cat an’ banjo with our forces.
         So ’ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your ’ome in the Soudan;
         You’re a pore benighted ’eathen but a first-class fightin’ man;
         We gives you your certificate, an’ if you want it signed
         We’ll come an’ ’ave a romp with you whenever you’re inclined.
We took our chanst among the Khyber ’ills,
 The Boers knocked us silly at a mile,
The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills,
 An’ a Zulu impi dished us up in style:
But all we ever got from such as they
 Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller;
We ’eld our bloomin’ own, the papers say,
 But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us ’oller.
         Then ’ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an’ the missis and the kid;
         Our orders was to break you, an’ of course we went an’ did.
         We sloshed you with Martinis, an’ it wasn’t ’ardly fair;
         But for all the odds agin’ you, Fuzzy-Wuz, you broke the square.
 
’E ’asn’t got no papers of ’is own,
 ’E ’asn’t got no medals nor rewards,
So we must certify the skill ’e’s shown
 In usin’ of ’is long two-’anded swords:
When ’e’s ’oppin’ in an’ out among the bush
 With ’is coffin-’eaded shield an’ shovel-spear,
An ’appy day with Fuzzy on the rush
 Will last an ’ealthy Tommy for a year.
         So ’ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an’ your friends which are no more,
         If we ’adn’t lost some messmates we would ’elp you to deplore;
         But give an’ take’s the gospel, an’ we’ll call the bargain fair,
         For if you ’ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square!
 
’E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,
 An’, before we know, ’e’s ’ackin’ at our ’ead;
’E’s all ’ot sand an’ ginger when alive,
 An’ ’e’s generally shammin’ when ’e’s dead.
’E’s a daisy, ’e’s a ducky, ’e’s a lamb!
 ’E’s a injia-rubber idiot on the spree,
’E’s the on’y thing that doesn’t give a damn
 For a Regiment o’ British Infantree!
         So ’ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your ’ome in the Soudan;
         You’re a pore benighted ’eathen but a first-class fightin’ man;
         An’ ’ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, with your ’ayrick ’ead of ’air—
         You big black boundin’ beggar—for you broke a British square!
 
 
The Grave of the Hundered Head
by Rudyard Kipling
THERE’S a widow in sleepy Chester
     Who weeps for her only son;
There’s a grave on the Pabeng River,
     A grave that the Burmans shun,
And there’s Subadar Prag Tewarri
     Who tells how the work was done.
A Snider squibbed in the jungle,
     Somebody laughed and fled,
And the men of the First Shikaris
     Picked up their Subaltern dead,
With a big blue mark in his forehead
     And the back blown out of his head.
 
Subadar Prag Tewarri,
     Jemadar Hira Lal,
Took command of the party,
     Twenty rifles in all,
Marched them down to the river
     As the day was beginning to fall.
 
They buried the boy by the river,
     A blanket over his face—
They wept for their dead Lieutenant,
     The men of an alien race—
They made a samadh in his honor,
     A mark for his resting-place.
 
For they swore by the Holy Water,
     They swore by the salt they ate,
That the soul of Lieutenant Eshmitt Sahib
     Should go to his God in state;
With fifty file of Burman
     To open him Heaven’s gate.
 
The men of the First Shikaris
     Marched till the break of day,
Till they came to the rebel village,
     The village of Pabengmay—
A jingal covered the clearing,
     Calthrops hampered the way.
 
Subadar Prag Tewarri,
     Bidding them load with ball,
Halted a dozen rifles
     Under the village wall;
Sent out a flanking-party
     With Jemadar Hira Lal.
 
The men of the First Shikaris
     Shouted and smote and slew,
Turning the grinning jingal
     On to the howling crew.
The Jemadar’s flanking-party
     Butchered the folk who flew.
 
Long was the morn of slaughter,
     Long was the list of slain,
Five score heads were taken,
     Five score heads and twain;
And the men of the First Shickaris
     Went back to their grave again,
 
Each man bearing a basket
     Red as his palms that day,
Red as the blazing village—
     The village of Pabengmay,
And the “drip-drip-drip” from the baskets
     Reddened the grass by the way.
 
They made a pile of their trophies
     High as a tall man’s chin,
Head upon head distorted,
     Set in a sightless grin,
Anger and pain and terror
     Stamped on the smoke-scorched skin.
 
Subadar Prag Tewarri
     Put the head of the Boh
On the top of the mound of triumph,
     The head of his son below,
With the sword and the peacock-banner
     That the world might behold and know.
 
Thus the samadh was perfect,
     Thus was the lesson plain
Of the wrath of the First Shikaris—
     The price of a white man slain;
And the men of the First Shikaris
     Went back into camp again.
 
Then a silence came to the river,
     A hush fell over the shore,
And Bohs that were brave departed,
     And Sniders squibbed no more;
     For he Burmans said
     That a kullah’s head
Must be paid for with heads five score.
 
There’s a widow in sleepy Chester
     Who weeps for her only son;
There’s a grave on the Pabeng River,
     A grave that the Burmans shun,
And there’s Subadar Prag Tewarri
     Who tells how the work was done.
 
Famous extract of The Song of Hiawatha
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
 
By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.
Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them;
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny water,
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.
 

 

 

Nicknames

Sandra Lee Lucretia Patricia Stocky Verrilli Humphrey

Noodle

Sad-nees

Andace-Kan

Maria Magoo/Maria Monkey Face

Caper boy, the paper boy

Eva Kaneva/Crazy Daisy

Greta Grub

 

Games

Hide & Seek

Animal Game

Apples to Apples

Mexican Train

Hand & Foot

Disney Trivia

Pigs

Leap Frog - Classical Music

I Spy Books

Tennis

Frisbee

 

Childhood & Family

fudgy bar, beachball

facts about stuff

all body's companys sidewalk

 

College Life

Cornell University

 

Vietnam Stories

Two Cigarettes

Black Licorice

Best Job in the Army

Using the Computer

 

No Good, Throw Away Rules

  • Dealer deals 6 cards starting with him/herself.
  • Everyone looks at their cards.
  • Dealer can say, "No good, throw away!" and deal again.
  • Dealer leads with a card in any suit.
  • Highest card in that suit wins the trick. Place cards face down.
  • Winner of the trick leads with a card.
  • Play 4 tricks. You must win one of first 4 tricks to play the final trick.

Final Trick - All players remaining stack last two cards face up.

  • Everyone shows their top card.
  • Winner of 4th trick's card determines suit.
  • Winner of 5th trick shows their bottom card first. Winner of 5th trick's card determines suit.
  • Winner of 6th trick wins the game and deals.

 

Life at Work

"played games, took attendance"

pretsells what's pretsells

 

Life with Lucretia

Lobster Dinners

 

 

Interview Questions/Answers for Maria from January 7, 2007

1. When were you born? March 10, 1944

2. Where were you born? Utica, NY

3. Describe your family? I have an older brother and sister, three younger brothers, one younger sister.

4. What did your parents do for a living? My father was a machinist until I went to college, then his employer moved to South Carolina, and he became a realtor. My mother was a homemaker.

5. What were some of your favorite things to do as a child? My brothers and I loved to play in the woods, fish, and play board games. I read a lot.

6. What is your favorite childhood memory? Going to my Aunt Margaret and Uncles Stewie's resort in the 1000 Islands to swim and fish.

7. When did you get your first television? I was about eight years old.

8. What was your favorite T.V. Show? Life Of Reilly.

9. Where did you go to high school? Whitesboro Central High School in NY

10. What was your favorite subjects at school? Science, especially chemistry.

11. Why did you decide to go into the Army? I joined ROTC in college because I wanted to be an officer.

12. What was it like fighting in war? Scary much of the time, but living with brave men is often very inspiring.

13. What was your first job? After the army, I worked as a metallurgist in a steel foundry in New Hampshire.

14. How did you meet Grandma? I saw her in the hall at school, asked her friend her name, and called her on the phone.

15. What year and where did you get married? 1964, in Ithaca, NY, where I was a senior at Cornell University.

16. How many places have you lived and where were they? Seven. We lived in Ithaca; Lawton, Oklahoma; Colorado Springs; Nashua and Milford, New Hampshire; Saint Louis and Dawt. Missouri.

17. What is your favorite sport? Baseball to watch and listen; dry fly fishing to do.

18. What is your favorite team? Cleveland Indians

19. Who is the person you admire most? M. Gorbachev.

20. If you could have three wishes what would they be? World Peace, long happy healthy lives for everyone, and great success for all of my family, however they define it.

 

E-mail from April 8, 2007

In 1981, when the doctor told us that he must discontinue my chemotherapy for Hodgkins Lymphoma because of complications, we were offered the risky option of radiation therapy, with a small chance of success, a certain chance of extreme suffering, and an 85 percent chance of developing leukemia. I wanted to see my daughters graduate from college and get stated in life, so we took the treatments and hoped for a few more years of acceptable health and were rewarded with twelve truly great years. I was starting to believe I was the luckiest man alive!

 

In 1993, when my second bout with melanoma started, the oncologists refused to take a chance with me, (because of my previous problems with chemo), so we were offered surgery, with the (almost) certainty that the melanoma would return somewhere, sometime. I wanted to see my daughters get settled and give us beautiful, talented grandchildren, so we traded my movie-star looks for fourteen more wonderful years and all of the great blessings, including Maria, Caper, Eva, Greta, and Kandace's expected. As bonuses, I've had the pleasure of knowing all of the other additions to the family, and the luxury of traveling to enjoy more great quality time with many of them and more often than I could have dreamed. I was convinced I was the luckiest man alive!

 

Friday last, we learned that I have been diagnosed with advanced cancer of the pancreas (adenocarcinoma), and I will start chemotherapy on Tuesday. The symptoms came on fast and furious, normal for this cancer, with no real prior warning. This is the biggest gun of cancers, with the toughest odds yet, and not a battle I look forward to, but I've been so impossibly lucky so far that I have fewer fears and regrets than some might expect. You can find my prognosis on many websites, but I suggest not looking. We did find one website that states it is the #1 cause of Agent Orange deaths among Viet Nam vets, reinforcing my feeling about all of my maladies.

 

For those family members who were contemplating the June Reunion, we can only offer some premature thoughts. The chemo should last about seven weeks (May 22), and only God can tell you how a big party in June will sound by then. I suggest keeping the dates in mind, and if we have to cancel, using the time to celebrate something else worthwhile. We put the house on the market yesterday, and though the odds of closing, let alone selling it by then, are low, we'd hate to have to host you in a campground somewhere. Send me more ideas if you have them, please. Maybe a Farewell Tour if the health improves and holds out.

 

Of course, our longstanding invitation to visit any other time is still open, and amplified. Anyone we missed before has an invitation now. We can't guarantee a perfect time, but the beauty and solitude of our home can be attested to by those who have been here.

 

Please pass these thoughts along to anyone we missed, and pray or keep your fingers crossed or make any effort for us that you may feel could be helpful, including offering secret cures and remedies. I'm aleady consuming mass quantities of Tibetan Goji Berry juice, green tea, Indian dye, black walnuts, wild blueberries, and even some medicines from my doctors.

 

I have tried to make this truthful, hopeful but realistic, and not too morbid, and hope it comes accross that way.

 

Love and Peace,

 

Dick and Lu

 

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