Al Creasy
Family, friends, grandmother. I am Albert Spencer Gore, grandson of Albert Henderson Creasy.
Twelve years ago, my grandmother, grandfather and I came on a chilly December morning to this very church. And the pastor gave a sermon I will remember to this day.
Why, he asked, do we take pictures? We take pictures, he said, to remember moments of this fleeting life that we live. Do document our temporary existence on this earth. We take pictures to remind ourselves of our days of glory -- when we were young, healthy, full of energy, beautiful. They capture brief moments of perfection.
But in heaven, the pastor said, there are no cameras allowed. And they’re not needed. For the perfection is eternal. There is no need to remember in the Kingdom of God. And because there are no cameras allowed in heaven, there is only faith.
The news of my grandfather’s passing surprised us all. It surprised us that a man with such vitality and health could pass so suddenly. But now to me, it makes sense. For as the pastor said, there are no cameras allowed in heaven. And if my grandfather had any warning of his upcoming journey, he would have quickly packed every camera and lens he owned to capture the entire thing in high definition.
Mount now, the car of imagination, and ride up above the clouds, the moon, the sun and stars and systems and through the pearly gate.
Enter in and enjoy its perfection and beauty.
Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.
These words were spoken one hundred twenty-six years ago, in Mount Airy North Carolina, in a sermon delivered by a methodist minister -- Dr Walter Scott Creasy, my great-great-great-grandfather.
These words have survived a century of time not by accident -- but because of my grandfather's painstaking work to immortalize them. Four years ago, he presented me with a bound copy of the Creasy Family History -- a 400 page tome containing over 1200 documented family members and hundreds of historical records.
My grandfather made it his life’s work to document and preserve our family’s history for generations yet to come. As he has done for many in this room, he spent his retirement methodically preserving, digitizing, labeling and organizing thousands of slide photographs, video reels and video tapes. A labor of love produced over years of standing aside and documenting his family. I have to admit that as a child, I found this fascination strange and a bit obsessive. But today I appreciate his foresight. For today, these photos are now all I have left of him. And it is all that my daughter will ever know of him.
Alas among this encyclopedia of archived memories there are too many to share today, but I do want to share a few. I know many of you flew or drove through a hurricane to be here today. I’m sorry to say that my grandfather’s relationship with severe weather runs deeper than that.
Among my earliest memory of my grandfather is from twenty six years ago, on the day he retired from a long and distinguished career at State Farm. That night, almost as many people as there are here today, were assembled on the top floor of the State Farm building in Normal Illinois to celebrate his achievement. But only about an hour into the celebration, funnel clouds emerged from the largest tornado breakout in Illinois history, and we had to move the celebration into the utility basement.
At the time, I was four years old, and couldn't appreciate the significance of the career being celebrated that day. But my grandfather’s career at State Farm, which lasted longer than I have been alive, was an exercise in discipline, and selflessness, and sacrifice for his family. He provided stability and security so that we may flourish.
My grandfather was a quiet man but one who appreciated all the simple wonders of life. It is for this reason that he developed a special relationship with his seven grandchildren, all of whom have crossed the globe to be here today.
For example, growing up, it was my grandfather would bring me new specimens for my growing rock collection. He brought me my first samples of coal and fool's gold. He gave me my first magnifying glass I could use to see them in greater detail. And he taught me to use it to burn my initials into his deck.
Another time he gave me a two dollar bill. When I brought it in to show my class, my first grade teacher told me was fake. Upon hearing this, my grandpa sent me a whole sheet of two dollar bills in a folder directly from the treasury, uncut, to provide as evidence.
When my friends were all trading Pokémon cards, my grandfather instead taught me to collect quarters. When they started putting different states on the backs of quarters, we would scan every quarter we received - we wanted two from each state, one minted in Denver, and the other Philadelphia.
Beyond a fascination for collecting everything from photographs to stamps and currency, my grandfather shared with us his passion for puzzles. I take it on good word that until the day of his passing, he sat in the lobby of Tryon Estates working out the daily newspaper jumbler. He worked puzzles, not only from the paper but on his computer -- and every time we visited my grandparents, my cousin Rebekah and I would beeline it straight for his office to play the games he had installed I think mostly for him. Whenever we achieved a new high score, he would spend the evening creating a custom certificate documenting it. I took these home and shared them with my friends at school.
Many of you know my grandfather as the unofficial tech support of Tryon estates. And you wonder how he became so skilled with computers. I can explain. and I would change every single setting on their computer, from font size to color and background image. My grandfather had to figure out how to change it back by the time we visited next.
It was these simple moments, these perfect pure memories, which most shape my memory of my grandfather. But he also had an adventurous side. It was he took me my first roller coaster at six flags great America, and he who first first swam with me out to the depths of the ocean at wrightsville beach. He took me onto my first boat ride, and pulled me along behind in an inner tube. Another highlight of our visits was to ride in the bed of his truck down the steep driveway to the pool at our neighbor's house.
But the best gift my grandfather gave me was an appreciation for science. Though I’m not sure if he ever used it after graduating, my grandfather graduated from Duke University with a degree in chemistry, which made him my go to scientist. As a young boy I would question him about rocks, dinosaurs, nuclear reactors. And he’d always be there to listen and explain. He explained to me that hydrogen and oxygen could combine to make water; that copper and zinc could be used to make a battery. When I got my first email account around the year 2000, my grandfather was about the only person I ever talked to. I sent him emails asking about science, or sharing descriptions of my new inventions, or sharing papers I had written for school. He was always supportive and encouraged me to keep going. Years later, when I visited my grandparents in their home in Tryon, I saw these emails printed and framed in his office.
That was my grandfather. Always encouraging, and always proud. No matter what troubles we faced in life, it felt like in his eyes, we could do no wrong. He will never know how much I looked up to him as a role model, as our patriarch, and as a man who for five decades placed the wellbeing of his family at the center of his universe. He will be missed, but his love and care will be felt by us for the rest of our lives.
The end of the documented Creasy Family History contains a scrapbook of memories and quotes of passages my grandfather found significant and which he leaves to us. I'd like to end by paraphrasing one, reflecting on the later years of life.
"It seems just yesterday that I was young, and embarking on my new life . But here it is.. The winter of my life and it catches me by surprise… how did I get here so fast? Now I enter into this new season of my life, unprepared for all the aches and pains, but at least I know, then when it's over on this earth, a new adventure will begin."
So if you're not in your winter let, let me remind you, that it will be here faster than you think. So whatever you would like to accomplish in your life, please do it quickly. Don't put things off too long. You have no promise that you will see all the seasons of your life. So live for today, and live life well. Say all the things you want your loved ones to remember. Do something fun. Be happy. Lastly, consider the following: Today is the oldest you've ever been. Yet the youngest you'll ever be. So enjoy this day while it lasts."
Farewell grandfather, rest well, and Godspeed.
By Grandson Albert Spencer Gore at his funeral.