RIP, John McGill
JAM, Eulogy, March 16, Cumberland Lansdowne Presbyterian Church. Lexington, Ky
A eulogy is an impossible task.
We are in the presence of the ultimate mystery of one life, of suffering, of relationships, of love,.of friendship, and of death. Of a UNIQUE storied magazine of many chapters.
Human Words can never capture the mystery. Only poets, and country music singers TRY--MERELY TRY.
We depend too much on words. It is PRESENCE that counts.
We are here today to be present to this Mystery,
--this human story and rich magazine that was the life of John McGill.
I had the privilege of knowing John for almost 30 years in his low points and high points. He helped me author two books and several writing projects. I was privileged to help John through some tough times. I had played sports and coached on several levels which gave us an intuitive connection.. Vietnam radicalized me also. I had been Lt. Cmdr Naval Reserve Chaplain during Vietnam and resigned my commission in protest. We were both skeptical of authority,We both believed that a Wisdom existed in the People that politicians could not hear. We both felt from the beginning that Iraq would be a greater disaster than Vietnam. He read widely and our conversations ranged the universe.
John loved the Beatles as did I. His great plan, hope and dream was to gather a group of his friends to go together to Vegas to view the latest Cirque du Soleil production which celebrates the musical legacy of The Beatles..
Some of you may not know that John went to Europe and studied race car driving and in competition and training, according to reports did very well. He loved the Indy 500 and kept trying to take me. He told me he once interviewed Paul Newman.
John was a gifted writer. He could take an idea, a phrase or a paragraph and in a bit, tweak it so that it could capture the imagination, intrigue the mind and touch the heart. He could take a new writing assignment and within a few days produce an amazing summary article that touched the heart of the matter. I considered him to be brilliant in this.
John had the abiilty to author the new Great American novel of Catch 22 in Business Leadership: that is, How organizations profess highest standards of teamwork and leadership and then actually sabotage their talk most every step of the way. He walked and bled through several such places. My book called Hidden Lions was an unfinsishd project between us on this subject of business self-sabotage.
IT IS SAID
“Every person is born into a particular quadrant of the universe. Our friends hang like companion stars around us, giving us point and direction.
We run to them when we have something to celebrate.
Fall back on them when feeling abused, or confused.
And when a friend dies, as Robert Louis Stephenson wrote of his childhood friend.
“There falls along with him a whole wing of the palace of our lives.”
We celebrate here the Mystery and Grace of John McGill’s life. SPORTS WERE HIS PASSION.. .
When the one Great Scorer comes to write against your name, he marks not whether you won or lost but how you played the game, “said Grantland Rice, regarded as Dean ofAmerican Sportswriters. ....
John McGill loved the game.
John was an acute observer and student of HOW WE PLAY THE GAME.
John grew up in a home where THE GAME and SPORTS were constant conversation. .
John loved stories about sports. John knew sports.
If you were to be in the game, you should be in the game ALL THE WAY, TO THE VERY END.- NO LET UP TIL THE FINAL BUZZER.
On our first trip to Nashville last summer, John visited a nearby book store to buy another book on surviving cancer. If his mind were capable of willing his cancer cured, he would do .it.
He would not relent. In the last week of his life, all four attending physicians at ST. Josephs agreed there was nothing further they could do. John called on the oncology expert he first consulted at Vanderbilt for his final hope.
For his final SHOT AT THE BUZZER. (pause)
A human life is like a diamond, with many parts. Individuals see only aspects.
From John’s first surgery to his last breath, John was mostly in constant pain and could not move without wrenching pain. The days and months crawled by. August, September, October, November, December, January, February, March, 24 hours a day, often being stuck by needles. --March 10 finally ended his pain.
What was amazing to me about these months was how often John found a way to laugh with, kid around, get smiles from those attending him. He had a way of immediately connecting, a heart and funny way of connecting with his caretakers. I believe he showed the quality of his character in the face of the enormous challenge of being helpless in bed 24 hours a day.. He could be entertaining even while undergoing the most humble and humiliating procedure. NO, he was not always easy to be around. All the time, we know now the cancer was growing and spreading, slowly taking over his body.
During these months, what amazed John the most was the love and loving care he found from others, from unexpected sources, from old friends of whom he had not heard for years. Some did walk away unable to find words or resources to deal with what John was undergoing. It is not easy to be with someone you like or love when they are suffering. John did not blame them. Some stayed. John genuinely touched many hearts during his last 8 months. .
(timed delivery: 10 minutes up to here)
Let me now call on his friends Tom, Billy and Mark.
After their remarks
If anyone here wishes to share a remembrance, please raise a hand. If more than one, Count off and give sequnce, "Please come forward in the order given."
CLOSING (timed delivery 5 minutes)
.
THE ULTIMATE IRONY OF BEING HUMAN IS THAT
DEATH ALONE SETS ALL ELSE IN SIGNIFICANCE.
Often We run or hide from the mystery of love,
Always haunting us like an elusive phantom we are afraid of
we are leery of being vulnerable. The VULNERABILTY OF embracing LOVE..
,
John lived with some fear of love, of being loved and of loving.
In the end, his heart was found, captured — Seized by love.
The love of many others, and a lost love.
This is the irony and mystery of his life.
He regarded himself at last as V ERY LUCKY.
despite all that was happening or not happening.
AT THE END, JOHN WAS LUCKY AND GRACED
in his feeling of being loved
--of discovering some he was afraid of, could love him.
That single acceptance may be his most singular grace.. .
The rest of that story is only now begins to be written.
Many have written on the power of friendship to heal. Helen Keller, born blind and dumb, said of the friendship of Samuel Clemens, Mark Twain, which began when she was 14. She wrote:
It has been said that my life has treated me harshly and sometimes I have complained in my heart because so many pleasures of human experience have been withheld from me, but when I recollect the treasure of friendship that has been bestowed upon me.”
I WITHDRAW ALL CHARGES AGAINST LIFE.
If much has been denied me. (She was born deaf and dumb)
MUCH, VERY MUCH HAS BEEN GIVEN ME. “
John felt this way at the end.
Helen Keller, born blind and dumb ended her eulogy to Samual Clemens with these words: As long as the memory of certain beloved friends lives in my heart, I can say life is good.
CANNOT WE SAY THE SAME? I AM GRATEFUL FOR THE RICH MAGAZINE THAT JOHN’S LIFE WAS FOR ME. MAYBE SOME HERE CAN SAY THE SAME.
RLS described his friendship with his childhood friend James Ferrier:
The first step for all of us, is to learn to the dregs, says Stevenson, of our ignoble fallibility. WHEN WE HAVE FALLEN THROUGH STORY AFTER STORY OF OUR OWN VANITY AND ASPIRATION, AND SIT RUEFUL AMONG THE RUINS, THEN IT IS WE BEGIN TO MEASURE THE STATURE OF OUR FRIENDS.
The world of sports and sports writing were John’s Passion, but he had many sides,
and he never stopped growing or challenging himself.
When the one great scorer comes to score against your name, he marks not whether you won or lost but how you played the game.
John McGill loved the game and had SKIN IN THE GAME til the very end.
We thank you, Lord, or the gift of his Life.
Thank you, John McGill for everything you were.
As long as the memory of my friend John McGill remains in my heart, I cay say that life is good.
A eulogy is an impossible task.
We are in the presence of the ultimate mystery of one life, of suffering, of relationships, of love,.of friendship, and of death. Of a UNIQUE storied magazine of many chapters.
Human Words can never capture the mystery. Only poets, and country music singers TRY--MERELY TRY.
We depend too much on words. It is PRESENCE that counts.
We are here today to be present to this Mystery,
--this human story and rich magazine that was the life of John McGill.
I had the privilege of knowing John for almost 30 years in his low points and high points. He helped me author two books and several writing projects. I was privileged to help John through some tough times. I had played sports and coached on several levels which gave us an intuitive connection.. Vietnam radicalized me also. I had been Lt. Cmdr Naval Reserve Chaplain during Vietnam and resigned my commission in protest. We were both skeptical of authority,We both believed that a Wisdom existed in the People that politicians could not hear. We both felt from the beginning that Iraq would be a greater disaster than Vietnam. He read widely and our conversations ranged the universe.
John loved the Beatles as did I. His great plan, hope and dream was to gather a group of his friends to go together to Vegas to view the latest Cirque du Soleil production which celebrates the musical legacy of The Beatles..
Some of you may not know that John went to Europe and studied race car driving and in competition and training, according to reports did very well. He loved the Indy 500 and kept trying to take me. He told me he once interviewed Paul Newman.
John was a gifted writer. He could take an idea, a phrase or a paragraph and in a bit, tweak it so that it could capture the imagination, intrigue the mind and touch the heart. He could take a new writing assignment and within a few days produce an amazing summary article that touched the heart of the matter. I considered him to be brilliant in this.
John had the abiilty to author the new Great American novel of Catch 22 in Business Leadership: that is, How organizations profess highest standards of teamwork and leadership and then actually sabotage their talk most every step of the way. He walked and bled through several such places. My book called Hidden Lions was an unfinsishd project between us on this subject of business self-sabotage.
IT IS SAID
“Every person is born into a particular quadrant of the universe. Our friends hang like companion stars around us, giving us point and direction.
We run to them when we have something to celebrate.
Fall back on them when feeling abused, or confused.
And when a friend dies, as Robert Louis Stephenson wrote of his childhood friend.
“There falls along with him a whole wing of the palace of our lives.”
We celebrate here the Mystery and Grace of John McGill’s life. SPORTS WERE HIS PASSION.. .
When the one Great Scorer comes to write against your name, he marks not whether you won or lost but how you played the game, “said Grantland Rice, regarded as Dean ofAmerican Sportswriters. ....
John McGill loved the game.
John was an acute observer and student of HOW WE PLAY THE GAME.
John grew up in a home where THE GAME and SPORTS were constant conversation. .
John loved stories about sports. John knew sports.
If you were to be in the game, you should be in the game ALL THE WAY, TO THE VERY END.- NO LET UP TIL THE FINAL BUZZER.
On our first trip to Nashville last summer, John visited a nearby book store to buy another book on surviving cancer. If his mind were capable of willing his cancer cured, he would do .it.
He would not relent. In the last week of his life, all four attending physicians at ST. Josephs agreed there was nothing further they could do. John called on the oncology expert he first consulted at Vanderbilt for his final hope.
For his final SHOT AT THE BUZZER. (pause)
A human life is like a diamond, with many parts. Individuals see only aspects.
From John’s first surgery to his last breath, John was mostly in constant pain and could not move without wrenching pain. The days and months crawled by. August, September, October, November, December, January, February, March, 24 hours a day, often being stuck by needles. --March 10 finally ended his pain.
What was amazing to me about these months was how often John found a way to laugh with, kid around, get smiles from those attending him. He had a way of immediately connecting, a heart and funny way of connecting with his caretakers. I believe he showed the quality of his character in the face of the enormous challenge of being helpless in bed 24 hours a day.. He could be entertaining even while undergoing the most humble and humiliating procedure. NO, he was not always easy to be around. All the time, we know now the cancer was growing and spreading, slowly taking over his body.
During these months, what amazed John the most was the love and loving care he found from others, from unexpected sources, from old friends of whom he had not heard for years. Some did walk away unable to find words or resources to deal with what John was undergoing. It is not easy to be with someone you like or love when they are suffering. John did not blame them. Some stayed. John genuinely touched many hearts during his last 8 months. .
(timed delivery: 10 minutes up to here)
Let me now call on his friends Tom, Billy and Mark.
After their remarks
If anyone here wishes to share a remembrance, please raise a hand. If more than one, Count off and give sequnce, "Please come forward in the order given."
CLOSING (timed delivery 5 minutes)
.
THE ULTIMATE IRONY OF BEING HUMAN IS THAT
DEATH ALONE SETS ALL ELSE IN SIGNIFICANCE.
Often We run or hide from the mystery of love,
Always haunting us like an elusive phantom we are afraid of
we are leery of being vulnerable. The VULNERABILTY OF embracing LOVE..
,
John lived with some fear of love, of being loved and of loving.
In the end, his heart was found, captured — Seized by love.
The love of many others, and a lost love.
This is the irony and mystery of his life.
He regarded himself at last as V ERY LUCKY.
despite all that was happening or not happening.
AT THE END, JOHN WAS LUCKY AND GRACED
in his feeling of being loved
--of discovering some he was afraid of, could love him.
That single acceptance may be his most singular grace.. .
The rest of that story is only now begins to be written.
Many have written on the power of friendship to heal. Helen Keller, born blind and dumb, said of the friendship of Samuel Clemens, Mark Twain, which began when she was 14. She wrote:
It has been said that my life has treated me harshly and sometimes I have complained in my heart because so many pleasures of human experience have been withheld from me, but when I recollect the treasure of friendship that has been bestowed upon me.”
I WITHDRAW ALL CHARGES AGAINST LIFE.
If much has been denied me. (She was born deaf and dumb)
MUCH, VERY MUCH HAS BEEN GIVEN ME. “
John felt this way at the end.
Helen Keller, born blind and dumb ended her eulogy to Samual Clemens with these words: As long as the memory of certain beloved friends lives in my heart, I can say life is good.
CANNOT WE SAY THE SAME? I AM GRATEFUL FOR THE RICH MAGAZINE THAT JOHN’S LIFE WAS FOR ME. MAYBE SOME HERE CAN SAY THE SAME.
RLS described his friendship with his childhood friend James Ferrier:
The first step for all of us, is to learn to the dregs, says Stevenson, of our ignoble fallibility. WHEN WE HAVE FALLEN THROUGH STORY AFTER STORY OF OUR OWN VANITY AND ASPIRATION, AND SIT RUEFUL AMONG THE RUINS, THEN IT IS WE BEGIN TO MEASURE THE STATURE OF OUR FRIENDS.
The world of sports and sports writing were John’s Passion, but he had many sides,
and he never stopped growing or challenging himself.
When the one great scorer comes to score against your name, he marks not whether you won or lost but how you played the game.
John McGill loved the game and had SKIN IN THE GAME til the very end.
We thank you, Lord, or the gift of his Life.
Thank you, John McGill for everything you were.
As long as the memory of my friend John McGill remains in my heart, I cay say that life is good.
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