I was blessed to be able to deliver a eulogy for my dad at his Funeral Mass on July 8, 2017 in Oneonta, NY. I wanted to post it here to make it part of this ongoing tribute. I'll make a few modifications to change references specific to that day. I'll also include the Gospel reading we used since I reference it.

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Gospel: John 17:24-26

Jesus raised his eyes to heaven and said: "Father, they are your gift to me. I wish that where I am they also may be with me, that they may see my glory that you gave me, because you loved me before the foundation of the world. Righteous Father, the world also does not know you, but I know you, and they know that you sent me. I made known to them your name and I will make it known, that the love with which you loved me may be in them and I in them."

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Life of Service

I think it is fair to say that my dad led a full life. In trying to approach this eulogy, it became clear to me that no brief talk can capture the essence of my dad and his accomplishments. How does one do justice to a man who happily drove the family’s wood-paneled station wagon to Florida, and expertly navigated an LC-130 Ski Bird to the Greenland icecap. Who gently held my infant sons in his arms, and skillfully guided Wilber Bank for 25 years. Who sat on both the St. Mary’s finance council and the NY Federal Reserve.

My wife, always the English teacher, advised me using the words of Ernest Hemingway: “All you have to do is write one true sentence.” One true sentence about my dad: My dad lived an incredible life of service.

We know it to be true because we were the beneficiaries. We know it to be true because he left this world, this community, our lives better than he found it. He gave of his time and talents and treasure without counting the cost, and without asking “What do I get out of this?”

The line from the Gospel that struck me the most as I thought about my dad is when Jesus says to his father, “they are your gift to me.” It resonated with me because I believe that my dad lived his life this way. He saw the gift in our family. He saw the gift in the people he worked with at the bank, on the many boards and foundations and councils and clubs. He saw the gift in this community of Oneonta. He saw the gift in your friendship. If people around you are a gift, then the talents you have been given and the successes you have achieved are not yours, they are simply the tools you have to serve others. These last few months since he died have been a good opportunity for me to reflect on the talents dad shared so freely.

Man of Ideas

The first thing that jumped to mind is that dad was a man of ideas. He spent many of his waking hours solving problems, and not small problems either. Problems that would allow the bank to move forward for customers. Problems the community of Oneonta was facing. Huge problems that made national news.  He’d wake up at 5 in the morning and immediately start solving problems. Steve Malavec, his long time friend and Chief Technology Officer, once joked with me that we needed to to find a way to get dad to sleep in. Steve would get to work and my father would have a host of new ideas to discuss with him. He was intensely curious about technology, business, culture. And everything found its way into his ideas.

Navigator

Ideas alone can can be fleeting, but my dad was also at his core a Navigator. A talent he honed through his 22 years serving as navigator in the Air Force and National Guard. He learn to plot a course, to take into account weather, and to get his crew safely to their destination. He offered this talent to the bank and the community, expertly guiding them through the changing landscapes of technology and economy. He was not only able to have the idea, but also able to chart a path to making that idea concrete, impactful, and life changing. He was a navigator in every aspect of his life.Every time I’d head off to a new place, I’d mention it to my dad, and he could tell me three different paths to take and the merits of each route. We’d go away as family to a weekend swim meet as kids. Arriving to a list of events, but no idea of when our event would start. My dad go to work calculating event times and estimating time between events. In a few short minutes, he could tell every swimmer on the team what time their event would start, so they knew how much time they had to rest, and when to start warming up.

Community

At the center of my dad’s vision of the world was an intense understanding of community. I’ve never known a more community oriented person in my life. He understood the importance of the bank for the life of the community. He helped with the hospital, colleges, small businesses, service organizations, and community development organizations to make Oneonta a vibrant place to live This was perhaps made most concrete to me when I’d hear people share their story of being in a position at the bank where they failed. Instead of firing them, my dad would suggest another position at the bank that might suit them better. Inevitably, the person would thrive in the new role, becoming a lifelong fan of my dad’s because dad took the time to look beyond their failures to see their potential. Community, for my dad, is a place for people to come together, to share their talents, and to achieve their dreams. And he loved playing a part in that.

Fond Memories

Throughout my life I saw my father share his many talents freely with the community.

With all that he did, I never felt cheated. I have fond memories of following him around as we worked on home projects: building a dog house, repairing a fence, installing a wood-burning stove. I was captivated by his ability to engineer a solution, and his willingness to let me “help.” He took the time to encourage me in computers.

And took delight in discussing each new thing I learned. He’d even coming home with paid programming jobs he’d found for me to take on. He encouraged me to find my path, and let me know that I always had his support. He and my mom waited patiently, for far too long, for grandkids without complaint.

Thanksgiving

In the two and a half years since my mom died, my dad had a lot of time to think. While he never shied away from solving the word’s problems, he did focus much of thought on reflecting on his life, and thanking God for the many blessings he’d received. He was thankful first and foremost for my mom. He knew that asking her to marry him was the best decision of his life. He was thankful for the talented people he worked with, for the opportunities for service he’d been given. He was thankful for the community of Oneonta that took him in and shaped his life of service. He was thankful for your friendships, and for sharing your story (he love hearing your stories) and sharing your journey with him. He told my sisters and me, in one of the last conversations we had with him the day before he died, that he did not want to die, but if it was his time to die, that he would die thankful. Would that we could all say that as we come to the end of our time on this Earth. And he serves us once gain, showing us, in the words of the St. Francis Prayer, “It is in giving that we receive…it is in dying that we born to eternal life.”

Share Your Story

Now is our special chance to be thankful for my dad. I’ve shared just a few scattered thoughts about my dad’s life of service. I invite you to share your story about my dad. He always got embarrassed when people talked about him, but he can’t object now. Please share your stories and memories through this site.

I am deeply saddened by the death of Bob and would like to extend my condolences to his family and friends

I met Bob in 1960 at the Air National Guard Unit in Schenectady we flew many missions together in the C97 and then the C130.

I remember Bob and I snorkeling in the lagoon at Wake Island in the Pacific. We brought our gear and explored the old Pan Am Sea plane ramps; we stopped when we met fish bigger than we were.

Bob and I were both working on Masters Degrees at RPI and we would find quiet places to study together when we had time on our flights to wherever.

We connected via Face book this summer and both remembered an engine fire we had at DaNang Air Base South Viet Nam. It was early morning and as we started either #3 or # 4 engine on our C97 we had a stack fire. It was etched in our memories.

May Bob rest in peace.

John Behuniak