I wanted to update everyone about my life in the last year and a half.
I met a girl.
I moved to Milwaukee, WI.
I’m getting married.
There’s obviously a lot more to it than that, like us traveling around the world to Iceland, Amsterdam, NL, and even to the Royal Wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle in England.
This obituary appeared in the Thursday, December 2, 2010 edition of the San Diego Union Tribune.
It reads:
DUNN, ROGER S.
May 2, 1940 to Nov. 23, 2010
Roger, a retired Merchant Marine Captain, passed away peacefully. He is survived by his wife, Pranee; four stepchildren, Cindy, Pete, Nancy, and Pat; six grandchildren, and two daughters-in-law. He was a hardworking, wonderful husband and father who was deeply loved and respected. He will be greatly missed by family and friends.
Viewing and memorializing will be December 2, 2010 at noon at El Camino Memorial Park.
My mom wrote it, and I think she wasn’t in the right state of mind because there are seven grandchildren: Benny and I, Kristina, Krystal and Kassie, and Philip and Cody.
Recently our cousin Natnaree “Belle” Suwanpotipra performed Grieg: Piano Concerto No.1 in A minor Op.16, Mvt.1 with the Southeast Asian Youth Orchestra 2010 as a soloist. It was conducted by Maestro Terje Mikkelsen at Mahidol University, in Bangkok Thailand on October 7, 2010.
This movement is fairly complex and elegant in that it the dramatic phrases really drive the piece. It fluctuates with intensity throughout, but maintains a level of calm excitement. As the soloist, our cousin demonstrates acute timing and precision and shows her comfort with the music. The orchestra behind her was also excellent, as was the conductor, Terje Mikkelsen.
Sometime around thirty minutes passed noon on Tuesday, Roger Sherwood Dunn took his last breath.
Roger lived his life for his family. He loved his family, and his family loved him dearly. Celebrations often included food, which was obvious by his portly stature. His deep baritone, nasally voice usually commanded the attention of all around him and his demeanor captured the fascination of grand children.
Roger was my grandfather. He had been in and out of surgeries and therapy for the past ten years. He first suffered a fall while on the job at work in Alaska in 2000, to which I wrote,
“My Grampa is not getting any better. I hope he lives through this. He’s not that old at all. He was supposed to see his great grand children and bounce them on his knee. He’s supposed to be there to play Jeopardy with them as he did with me when I was younger. This isn’t good news at all.”
He underwent brain surgery and treatment for pneumonia and eventually he pulled through. His career eventually ended and he lived simply. He would escort my grandmother to the casino and would love to watch documentaries. As time went on, he had bouts with his health and would occasionally lose his memory.
Recently, he was in the hospital again, and Kelly and I went to visit him each day to see how he was. There wasn’t much dignity in the hospital, sharing a room with another decrepit soul watching day time television. The doctors kept him there to observe him however, even though he seemed fine to me. I grabbed his hand and told him I loved him and we’d see him real soon.
It would be dramatic to say that was the last time we saw him alive, but it wasn’t. We saw him on a recent family outing to a Chinese restaurant. Our family celebrates with food, and my aunt leaving for Thailand was no exception. After filling our bellies and saying our goodbyes, we wished everyone well and said we’d see them soon at Thanksgiving.
My grandfather did not quite make it to Thanksgiving Day, just a few days shy and this will be my first Thanksgiving without my grandfather.
I’m not bitter, nor angry. I’m not even all that sad, nor disappointed. I’ve been through most of the stages of grief I think.
Shock and denial happened in the first few seconds of the call from my mother, who’s voice cracked and waned as she said, “Grampa passed away.”
As I rushed Kelly out of bed and put on some outer layers, I was shaking, and thought to myself, “stop shaking, you’re better than that.” We all knew this this day was coming, but it came a lot sooner than we expected. After all he was discharged from the hospital with a clean bill of health.
Anger probably never really even set in, but I did think about how he wouldn’t get to see my first home, my wedding, nor my first child. I never bargained for more time for him, though I wished it, it was better that he go now. The past ten years had been pretty good to him, and I’m sure he suffered little this way. Telling myself it does no use to be depressed also helped to stave off depression, so I moved directly on to acceptance because it’s the only thing I could do. It was the logical step.
I do feel remorse, and a bit of sadness thinking about it these past few days, but the waterworks don’t come streaming — I fight those off because my grandfather would not have wanted it that way.
When I saw his body on the floor, I had a macabre sense of finality. Perhaps that’s what fast tracked me to acceptance. I didn’t know what to expect going to my grandparent’s house — my mom just said he passed away and instinctively, I knew to go to grandma and grandpa’s house, because it’s the center of my family universe.
I saw in the living room and thought about all of my friends whom have lost their grandparents and I thought about how they must have felt. At 70, my grandfather wasn’t a spring chicken, but he also shouldn’t have had one foot in the grave. I always thought Kelly’s grandmothers would beat him to the finish line at 87 and 97 years respectively.
If their is a God, he had some sort of plan for my grandfather, and he needed him now, as opposed to two days after Thanksgiving Day.
I don’t believe in God though, so it will have to be logic and reason: His medication and his body couldn’t keep up anymore. We think his heart stopped in a non-violent heart attack, possibly due to medication. It starved his brain of oxygen so, hopefully it was a peaceful death, and we would like to think of it as such.
My mom blames herself. My grandmother blames herself. They were out together, as my grandfather went into his room for a nap. They came back home and my grandmother went about her business making lunch for my grandfather. When she was done, she went to wake him up by shaking his arm.
His arm was cold, but as she tells it, his legs were still warm. He was not breathing. They called the paramedics and they were the ones to lift him out of bed and onto the floor. I don’t know if this is policy, but it does make sense to try to revive someone on a flat, even surface. They tried to resuscitate him, but it was already too late.
When I arrived through the front door, I simply walked in and saw him with blankets covering him on the floor, in the hallway. I walked around and brushed my hand back to keep Kelly from seeing, or stepping in that direction. His food was now cold on the kitchen table.
I looked in my grandmother’s eyes and she stared at me and said, “It’s too soon.”
More family arrived, and the ones that could be there, were. When my aunt came in, she went around to the body and started weeping. That’s when I lost it, but was able to regain composure as Kelly gripped onto me tightly and rubbed my back.
Then came family high jinx and shenanigans.
We waited. The paramedics just left the body there. We didn’t know what would happen next. It’s not like the movies at all. They don’t take the body with them, someone else comes to take it.
And we continued to wait and as 4 PM rolls around, I blurt out, “Is it free if they don’t get here by four?”
We all start to wonder how much everything is going to cost and start calling different mortuaries to see which one could get there first. Around 4:40 PM, the first man arrives. He’s a contract transporter of dead bodies for the mortuary. He begins his paperwork and says someone else would be coming to help him.
Part of the contract is to check the body for belongings and jewelry. To do that, he had to lift up the blankets and check his body. This was the first time I actually say my grandfather’s dead body. He didn’t look like he was sleeping. He simply looked dead. No breathing, no kicking, no snoring (as my grandfather was notorious for), and certainly no signs of life. He was just laying there with a mask on for oxygen, some plastic and tape strapped to his chest. An unidentified material near his heart probably used to try to revive him.
This viewing helped to give permanence to the fact that he is dead.
As the other transporter came, they brought white linens to wrap the body and moved him onto a gurney where they propped him up and revealed his face. We all looked one last time as much uncle shook his head in acknowledgment, as if to say, “Take him away.”
We sat and stood around in disbelief for a few moments when we decided that it was time to leave. We were emotionally drained when my grandmother says, something, totally in audible to me, but to which my uncle says, “okay” with laughter.
We go to get Thai food at a new Thai place in Mira Mesa. We celebrate everything with food in our family. Even death.
I was featured recently on eBay for our sustainability program.
For those that don’t know, I’m all about sustainability. Recently I was featured on eBay’s sustainability team’s website, www.ebaygreenteam.com. I’ve been working with Eco ReBox to further sustainability efforts. We purchased reusable boxes from Eco ReBox and started shipping them for all of our applications that had product coming back to our warehouse. We’re saving money and trees.
It’s pretty awesome. Check out Eco ReBox and the article, linked below.
When we decided to profile Titanium eBay seller MI Technologies, Inc, we were thrilled that the company’s business model is based on reusing what already exists in the world. But when we actually talked with their Marketing Director, Eddie Phanichkul, we unearthed a treasure chest of sustainable gems.
MI Technologies was launched on eBay in 2004, selling lamps and other parts for televisions and projectors, many of them refurbished. The company was founded by two high school friends who saw a business opportunity in eBay very early on. In fact, they got their feet wet on eBay when they were only 18 years old, selling video games and mp3 players back in 1999. Today, the eBay vets run their highly successful business online and off, with 120 employees, offices in the U.S. and Mexico, and products shipping all over the world.
So, what’s so green about TV lamps and parts? Well, when a simple part in a television set breaks, instead of buying a whole new set and getting rid of the old one, customers can order a replacement part from Discount Merchant (one of MI Technologies’ subsidiaries), send their broken part back, and voila: there’s a happy person watching Glee again. One better, Eddie and his team will fix the broken part and resell it, extending the useful life of something that would have otherwise found it’s way to a landfill. Eddie says they can fix up to 90% of the parts sent back to them!
But, you might ask, isn’t all this shipping back and forth is economically and environmentally burdensome? Enter sustainable packaging manufacturer Eco ReBox, who Eddie and his team partnered with for what they call “closed loop shipping” – incentivizing their customers to return the boxes by tacking a fee onto the price of the item, which is reimbursed as soon as the box reappears in the company’s offices. Eddie says that unlike a regular cardboard box, which can only be used a couple of times, Eco ReBoxes can be—and often are– used up to 20 times!
For those in the San Diego area, MI Technologies just became an e-waste recycler. In fact, Eddie says—with a chuckle—that the company’s competitors in states with poor e-waste recycling programs already ship their recycling to MI Technologies. And if you’re wondering what you can possibly do with those pesky Styrofoam peanuts, MI Technologies actually uses it’s San Diego office as the only drop-off site in the area – and then, of course, reuses them!
In the On The Move section of the San Diego Union Tribune, I was featured as an up & coming professional. I also received a letter from the City of San Diego congratulating me on the promotion!
October 20th, 2009
Dear Mr. Phanichkul
Congratulations on your recent appointment to Global Marketing Director for MI Technologies! Your experience and leadership will surely be valued. Good luck in your future endeavors and may your successes continue!
Best regards,
Dan McAllister
San Diego County Treasurer-Tax Collector
This text is the eulogy for Helen K. Dunn, our great grandmother, whom we’ve never met. It was written by our late grandfather Roger S. Dunn. The post has been backdated to the date of the eulogy and poster has been changed to Roger S. Dunn, in memorial to his life and words.
EULOGY FOR HELEN K. DUNN
Longtime friend of Pillar of Fire Church and KPOF Radio
By her son, Roger S. Dunn – March 4, 1998
(Helen Dunn passed away on February 27, 1998 in Aurora, Colorado)
Helen K. Dunn was born in Martell, Nebraska on February 16, 1905. She was second youngest of 6 children born to Fred and Dora Krull, consisting of 3 girls and 3 boys. She grew up on a farm in a community consisting of ethnic Germans. German was the language used in the home despite the fact that both parents and all the children were born in the United States. She didn’t learn English until she went to elementary school.
Although she was raised on a farm, her father was a carpenter, not a farmer, by trade. Livestock, a vegetable garden, and fruit trees provided food for the family larder. As a child growing up, Helen had to help with the chores, which included milking cows and gathering eggs from the chicken coop each day.
From a very early age, Helen wanted to get an education. Her innate intelligence was obvious throughout her life, and learning was her first priority as she was growing up. She was the only one in her immediate family to graduate from a 4 year college course of study, and she was justifiably proud of this accomplishment. She majored in geography, with a minor in history, and was graduated from the University of Chicago in June, 1930 with grades high enough to qualify her for acceptance into the Phi Beta Kappa Scholastic Society. She wore her key on a gold chain as a necklace since she was very proud of this recognition given to her, and it was something she treasured throughout her life. Her keen mind continued to be one of her most obvious assets.
While in high school, Helen happened to meet a young man named Thomas C. Dunn, who was a college student at the University of Nebraska in Lincoln. She was enrolled in the High School located at the University which had been established for the purpose of providing prospective high school teachers with a facility where they could obtain practice in actually teaching high school students. At the time Thomas was enrolled as a college student majoring in chemistry. Although Tom (as he was usually called) was some 7½ years older than Helen, Cupid somehow did his job and the couple got married in September of 1925 after Tom had graduated from college and Helen had graduated from High School. (She was a married woman while attending first the University of Colorado in Boulder for a brief period, then the University of Chicago, where she graduated.)
In the mid-thirties the couple returned to Colorado to live where Tom had been transferred by the Government at his request. He worked as a chemist for the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, and felt that he and Helen would prefer to live in Denver rather than Chicago, since Helen had been experiencing some respiratory problems which could have been the early stages of tuberculosis. The drier climate of Denver attracted them, and after their making the move, Denver would remain their home for the rest of their respective lives.
After renting a home for a period of time, the couple eventually purchased a plot of land in the Park Hill District of Denver on the 2600 Block of Forest Street. They drew up the blueprints for their dream home themselves. Since construction took place during the height of the Depression, costs were low and Tom was fortunate to have a steady paycheck coming in as a Civil Service Employee sufficient to keep up the house payments. Their dream home would remain their residence for the next 52 years – until 1988.
The stork arrived at the Dunn home in May of 1940, after Tom and Helen had been married for 15 years. Their older son Roger Sherwood Dunn came into the world at the time of Hitler’s invasion of Belgium and Holland near the beginning of World War II. The land adjoining the Dunn home was vacant and was cultivated by neighborhood residents to grow vegetables for their own use during the war years so that canned goods could be sent to the troops fighting the War. Such plots were known as “Victory Gardens”. There was an article in the Rocky Mountain News in 1943 describing these gardens, which were being cultivated in various parts of Denver. One picture shows Roger at 3 years of age sitting next to a gigantic turnip which was nearly as big as he was. The caption underneath the photograph read “Lil Abner and Mammy Yokum would call this HEAVEN!”
About 4½ years after Roger’s birth – Tom and Helen became parents for a second time with the birth of Spencer Farnham Dunn in November of 1944. It should be noted that neither of these deliveries was easy for Helen. Nevertheless she persevered and, through willpower, faith, and determination – to her everlasting credit – she succeeded in bringing 2 sons into the world, for which they will be grateful until their dying day. In Roger’s case, a Caesarian section was required, and Helen came close to death during the process. In Spencer’s case, medical help at the time was inadequate and often untrained due to the fact that medical personnel who could provide proper obstetric care were in short supply because of the War. Because of this situation, Spencer was deprived of oxygen at a critical time during the delivery such that, as a consequence, his mental development was permanently impaired, becoming increasingly evident as time went by.
Despite a number of heath problems and ailments which beset her almost continuously, she nevertheless worked hard to provide a decent home for her husband and 2 sons. She never shirked what she considered to be her duty. Her abiding religious faith gave purpose and direction to her life. She had been greatly influenced by her maternal grandfather, who had been a German Methodist Minister. Throughout her life she was an active participant in church activities – her primary social outlet being church service attendance and the majority of her friends being other church members. Although frugal by nature, she was faithful and diligent in seeing to it that at least 10% of the family income was earmarked for the church, or for church supported activities such as missionaries. She, in fact, had a soft spot for missionaries and felt a special rapport with a number of them – all over the globe. She provided them with financial support as well as material support in the form of home-made piecework quilts which she sewed herself and then sent to them through organized church missionary societies or individually on her own. She called such support her “philanthropies” for helping what she considered to be deserving recipients.
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES AND THOUGHTS
I vividly remember as a child that Mother would occasionally take my brother and myself to City Park where we would feed the ducks in the lake with old dried out bread slices. The fish in the lake (carp) usually ate the lion’s share before the ducks could get there. I recall the times that Mother would take me to see organized softball games in City Park on summer evenings, occasionally professional baseball games at Bears Stadium, Monday evening travelogues at the Denver Museum of Natural History (which I thoroughly enjoyed and no doubt stimulated my own sense of Wanderlust), and riding with me on rowboats in City Park Lake or renting bicycles for us to ride around the park before she and Dad finally surprised me with my very own Schwinn cream and red bicycle for my Birthday. I enjoyed riding that bike for many years afterwards.
Mother believed in keeping her promises, a trait which I really admire her for. One occasion comes to mind which bears this out. The Shrine Circus was due to come to Denver, and Mother promised to take me. (At the time, we didn’t yet have a family car, so we had to rely on public transportation.) Just before the date of the performance, she received word that her Father had passed away. Despite the fact that she was very sad, she nevertheless took me to see the circus, saying that her father would have wanted her to carry on as normal. He, along with Mother, believed in the axiom “A promise made is a debt upaid.”
When my Dad did finally buy his first family automobile in late 1951 (a light blue 4-door Ford Custom), he drove us all back and forth to church every Sunday (Mother never learned to drive). Often she would make sure that single, mostly elderly ladies would have a means of getting to church by riding with us. On Holidays and occasionally other times during good weather, Mom and Dad would decide to take a mountain trip in the car. Mom would prepare a delicious picnic lunch, and, more often than not, we would bring along these same elderly ladies for a day’s outing in the mountains. I have always enjoyed travel, so I looked forward to such excursions.
One of Mom’s most endearing qualities, and I hope, one of her most enduring, was the example she set for others in her daily life. She was always straightforward, genuine, truthful, and unpretentious in her dealings with others. You always knew exactly where things stood because she was incapable of being anything other than what she was. Keeping up with the latest fashion trends or attempting to give the impression she was something she was not were ideas completely foreign to her. Concerning clothes, she said that she was happy with clothes which looked decent, were serviceable, and were clean – nothing more. Her only concessions to fashion were that she visited a beauty parlor once each week, and she used a little face powder and cologne – no other cosmetics. Although occasionally she could be difficult, demanding, and impatient, I realized that her motives were pure – she always acted in what she sincerely believed were the best interests of her 2 children.
I feel that her most enduring legacy from my point of view was that as I was growing up she instilled in me what could best be described as a moral compass to provide guidance to me throughout my life. She was in every sense a rugged individualist, and she impressed upon me the desirability of making my own decisions in life based upon what was moral and right, not in following the crowd to become accepted as a member of the group in situations where personal values would be compromised. “To thine own self be true” was the watchword, and it has since become my credo as well. This was something I had to do for myself, because it couldn’t be done for me. If the end result was that I wasn’t accepted as “one of the boys” this was a price that I needed to be prepared to pay. I will be ever thankful for her example in this regard.
In summary, speaking for myself, my mother and father made many intangible personal investments in me – too numerous to mention – which transcended any monetary or material support, although they certainly provided that also to the extent of their capabilities. But more importantly, they provided me with the necessary love, security, guidance, discipline, and instruction – on a daily basis – to help me develop into a productive member of society and enable me, in the process, to meet and deal with the challenges of the future.
I feel fortunate that Helen K. Dunn and Thomas C. Dunn were my parents. My only wish for the future is that I hope the example which I set for the next generation will be appreciated by them half as much as the gratitude which I now feel at this very moment towards both of them.
As I have indicated, Mother did not have an easy time of it in life. Nobody is more deserving of respite from cares and troubles than she is. May Helen K. Dunn now – finally and truly – REST IN PEACE.
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