THANKSGIVING AND REMEMBRANCE    ARCHY JAECKS  20 May 1910-18 Nov., 1999
 
    One week ago today each of us lost to death a man we loved and admired and who in turn was loving and supportive to each of us in his family.  I would like to share some of my personal feelings and memories of my Dad with you my close family.
    My earliest memories include an image of a strong and strict keeper of order; no doubt in part the child rearing culture of the time and in part a necessity when dealing with mischievous  and sometimes destructive high energy sons.  I believe Jerry and I lived in near constant fear of the infamous razor strop which however seldom employed for corporal punishment hung over our delinquent heads like a leather sword of Damocles.  Our equivalent of the legendary trip to the wood shed.  The development of electric razors (and perhaps better behavior) deprived Danny of this important formative experience!
     Dads hard work habits-meaning tenacious dedication to completing tedious tasks-coupled with ingenious mechanical skills-he could fix ANYTHING-form another set of memories for me. I remember countless weekends in spring and fall, loading the car on Friday afternoons with heavy canned goods, tools, supplies, furniture, or whatever and driving up Highway 45 ticking off a well known litany of successive small Wisconsin towns:  Hortonville, New London, Clintonville, Marion, Tigerton, Wittenberg, Antigo never stayed awake past Antigo arriving late, spending the weekend working, with Dad crawling under cabins to fix frozen plumbing or down in the dark well hole frustrated by the recalcitrant sputterings of the ancient pump- the workings of which remain a mystery to me but which Dad understood and could master.  He was demanding of himself and us:  and I've carried a painful memory for 50 years of having been declared a mechanical moron.  I don't recall what specific ineptitude prompted this damming judgment but I remember receiving it in the old ice house/workshop in Jerry's presence who was being extolled as an example of a mechanical non-moron.  I'm grateful for this frank insight into my limitations which no doubt saved me from a tedious career as an orthopedic surgeon or urologist!
    Fairness and moral rectitude were other salient features of Dads persona.  We were compelled without question to attend church and Lutheran catechism under the stifling tutelage of the severely anal Reverend Barth;  the coldest most cheerless man on the planet.  Fortunately Dad evolved in his thinking on this subject and transformed into a sometimes Unitarian.  However, as you all know he never relinquished an iota of his commitment to speaking out for what he regarded as right and fair.
    Dad was a peace keeper:  Jerry and I had a bad case of sibling rivalry- he being justifiably jealous of my better looks and superior intelligence- and I remember especially an instance where Dad settled one sibling skirmish during which Jerry had hit me (no doubt in uncontrolled response to some series of clever and witty taunts) by ordering me to hit Jerry back, who was to take the blow without defense.  I couldn't do it, broke down and cried and said I didn't want to hit Jerry because he's my brother- the closest we ever came to an expression of brotherly love.  Dads technique demonstrated to the two delinquents the deeper bond and resulted in a cessation of hostilities for the entire remainder of that day.  On another occasion some stormy argument between Mom and Dad was defused when Dad took a drive in the moonlight- taking me along for some reason.  I remember how calm and detached he was as he admired the night-time Northwoods scene- a contrast to the emotions of dispute.  Peace prevailed upon our return demonstrating the value of the time out technique.
     Dad was an ardent competitor- the arch typical coach- very involved, exhorting the team to better effort, protesting the referees unfavorable calls and really caring about the outcome of the West Allis Central versus Cudahy High School basketball game.  For him, tennis was different, a sport for life, and more to be enjoyed rather than viewed as an intense test of young manhood, as was true with Football and Basketball.  Another great lesson:  Sports for Life!
     Dads last 10 years of life spent in exile in Wenatchee devoted wholeheartedly to Mothers care while afflicted with a debilitating incurable illness should have been very trying.  Through it all his optimistic attitude was nearly unfailing.  Always focused on the positive he would often say I'm fine Dave, or its much better today or it'll be better tomorrow when the situation did not seem so fine or hopeful to me.  Attitude is everything!  His wonderful commitment to Mothers care constitutes a true paradigm of devotion.  The fortitude with which he endured stresses and illnesses were unique in my experience, as was his bright intellect, warm humor, multitudinous interests, and kind consideration of others.  ("How are YOU Dr. Kjobech?" was his greeting to Carl on the last day of his life).  I'll miss him greatly, he's been a huge part of my daily life especially these past 10 years, but I feel we have all been blessed to have had such a magnificent human being for a Father all these years.  May his example continue to guide us in the future conduct of our lives.
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