For Dad from the Boys
Eugene D. (Trapper) Evans Sr.
Born October 8, 1922, in Callender, Iowa
Departed Dec. 13, 2009, in Rockville, Maryland
There are these two golfers. They’re on the tee getting ready to hit when one of them spots a funeral procession going by. So he takes off his hat and holds it over his heart. And the other golfer says “you know, that was really thoughtful”. The first golfer puts his hat back on and says “well, she was a good wife for 25 years…”
That was one of Dad’s jokes. He was the best storyteller, but his signature phrase was “I just tell ‘em; I don’t explain ‘em”.
He was an Iowa farm boy who joined the Navy and moved east to marry our mother, a salesman and manager at General Electronics on Wisconsin Avenue, and for many years a fixture at Redgate golf course in Rockville as a golfer and a card shark.
His nickname was Trapper, because as a young man he ran a trapline in Iowa. He ran a pool hall in his wild, younger days. In the Navy during WWII, he served on troop transports in the North Atlantic. He loved to sing, and had a fine tenor voice and wonderful talent for harmony. He studied journalism for a bit at George Washington University and was a talented writer. He could do long arithmetic calculations in his head, and he made us do them at the dinner table when we were growing up – loser did the dishes. He was retired for almost as many years as he worked.
And he found so much joy in life. He loved John Wayne movies, Swiss steak, golf – playing and watching, big band music, any dog, keno and scratch-offs, walking, Louis L’Amour, Burger King, Trapper Sandwiches at Redgate, Barbra Streisand, Lefse, English history, his friends, his family (immediate and extended), and most of all our mother, Mary Alice, his wife of 63 years. When his illness took one joy away, he simply found even more joy in the rest. His courage and grace in these last few years inspired us every day.
We have been imagining the scene in Heaven when he got there: his mother Alma baking pies; his father Ray and our brother Mike discussing the best fishing spots; his brothers Jimmy and Wally and his buddy Dave Baldwin playing cards while his sister Vionne tries to keep the peace. But first to greet him we imagine were his dogs, Pal baying in the distance, Rufus with a tennis ball in his mouth, and Grendel curling quietly at his feet.
To paraphrase Dad a bit here:
There are these two golfers in heaven. While they are waiting to hit they see this guy on the tee with long hair and a beard and he swings and hits the ball out of sight, a country mile. One golfer says “who does he think he is, Jesus Christ?” And the other golfer says “He is Jesus Christ, he thinks he’s Gene Evans”.
Enjoy Heaven, Dad. We'll miss you.
DuWayne, Steve, and Chris
Born October 8, 1922, in Callender, Iowa
Departed Dec. 13, 2009, in Rockville, Maryland
There are these two golfers. They’re on the tee getting ready to hit when one of them spots a funeral procession going by. So he takes off his hat and holds it over his heart. And the other golfer says “you know, that was really thoughtful”. The first golfer puts his hat back on and says “well, she was a good wife for 25 years…”
That was one of Dad’s jokes. He was the best storyteller, but his signature phrase was “I just tell ‘em; I don’t explain ‘em”.
He was an Iowa farm boy who joined the Navy and moved east to marry our mother, a salesman and manager at General Electronics on Wisconsin Avenue, and for many years a fixture at Redgate golf course in Rockville as a golfer and a card shark.
His nickname was Trapper, because as a young man he ran a trapline in Iowa. He ran a pool hall in his wild, younger days. In the Navy during WWII, he served on troop transports in the North Atlantic. He loved to sing, and had a fine tenor voice and wonderful talent for harmony. He studied journalism for a bit at George Washington University and was a talented writer. He could do long arithmetic calculations in his head, and he made us do them at the dinner table when we were growing up – loser did the dishes. He was retired for almost as many years as he worked.
And he found so much joy in life. He loved John Wayne movies, Swiss steak, golf – playing and watching, big band music, any dog, keno and scratch-offs, walking, Louis L’Amour, Burger King, Trapper Sandwiches at Redgate, Barbra Streisand, Lefse, English history, his friends, his family (immediate and extended), and most of all our mother, Mary Alice, his wife of 63 years. When his illness took one joy away, he simply found even more joy in the rest. His courage and grace in these last few years inspired us every day.
We have been imagining the scene in Heaven when he got there: his mother Alma baking pies; his father Ray and our brother Mike discussing the best fishing spots; his brothers Jimmy and Wally and his buddy Dave Baldwin playing cards while his sister Vionne tries to keep the peace. But first to greet him we imagine were his dogs, Pal baying in the distance, Rufus with a tennis ball in his mouth, and Grendel curling quietly at his feet.
To paraphrase Dad a bit here:
There are these two golfers in heaven. While they are waiting to hit they see this guy on the tee with long hair and a beard and he swings and hits the ball out of sight, a country mile. One golfer says “who does he think he is, Jesus Christ?” And the other golfer says “He is Jesus Christ, he thinks he’s Gene Evans”.
Enjoy Heaven, Dad. We'll miss you.
DuWayne, Steve, and Chris
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