July 23, 2004 - A Tribute to My Father

As many of you know, this past week has been a very trying time for my family.  My father, Richard Alexander, passed away on the 21^st.  Clearly, ranting has not been a top priority this past week.  What has been a priority is my father, and sharing with others the richness of his life.  With that in mind, I decided that rather than ranting, I would share with you a little bit about my father, as I shared with those in attendance at his funeral.  We all count ourselves lucky to be a part of his life and his memories. 

Richard Alexander:  A Life Well Led

Many things have been said about my father today, and from the sights and sounds of this celebration of his life, it is clear that his was a life well spent.

It is hard to sum up someone’s life in a few words.  But, I think there are some basic truths about my father that are core to who he was. 

He was a really good man.   

He loved his faith. 

He loved Culver City. 

He was brilliant scientist and a man of diverse interests, loving both Beethoven and banjo music, a fine Bordeaux and a cold Bud. 

He had a rather disgusting fondness for odd foods, including tongue, mackerel and anchovies. 

He loved getting sloppy wet kisses from his dog Ashley.

He loved me and my sisters.

And, finally, and foremost, he loved my mother.

People measure success in many different ways.  Some look to how much money or how many things they have, others look to titles on their desk.   These things did not matter to my father, and would not be a proper measure of his life. Instead, I just need to look around this room to see the extent of his achievements:  he was rich beyond measure.   True wealth and riches comes from love.  And not only did my father love, but he was greatly loved.  Many of those with whom he chose to share his life with are here today, and many of these wonderful people have done everything they can to help our family shoulder some of the pain that my father’s passing brings.   

I will miss my father not only as the man he was to me, but also as the man he was to everyone else; a man of integrity and grace, who never turned away from what he knew to be right.  He led by example, and not just by words, and believed that a life can only be measured in proportion to the kindness and respect you show to others, whether they are strangers on the street, or loved ones in the home.   He and my mother opened their hearts and home to strangers who became friends, and friends who became family.  There are echoes of their welcoming and generous spirit throughout Culver City and this Temple they both loved. 

As I went through some of his things, buried underneath his NRA membership cards and Guns & Ammo magazines, I found the following quote from the play Julius Cesar, hand written in my fathers familiar block print, on a small, well-worn, dog-eared card:

“There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries."

My father touched many with his kindness and caring, and in return, received back the love, respect and warmth that envelop this room.   Not only were we all blessed to have known him, but he himself was truly blessed.  He was a man who chose to live his life well, and in the process, became a man of great fortune.

My family and I were truly lucky to be together to say goodbye to my father as a family.   The most fitting tribute to my father is that many people say they see a lot of him in me.  I could not be more honored.