Dad,
You were my mentor, my role model, and my inspiration.  You gave selflessly to others.  Through your musical talent and your ability to make others laugh, you had amazing gifts that you shared freely.  Never once did you feel sorry for the yourself during the declining years of your life.  No matter the challenges of your own life, you continued to find strength in sharing your gifts.  Even though you are no longer here physically, there is a part of you in every one of us.  Thank you Dad.  I’ll hold you in my heart until we meet again.

Scott

To dearest Sandy, Scott, Tim, Shelby and the grandchildren,

In reading Scott’s fine tribute to his father, it occurs to me that, were I to substitute the word "Brother" for "Dad", I could have said exactly the same thing.  Simply put Scott … you nailed it.  That was your Dad.

He was a God-send to a little brother full of "snakes and snails and puppy dog tails".  His sharing made life so exciting in the old days when there were no TVs, computers, IPods and such.  His "hand-me-downs", like his old big-tired, black and white Schwinn with a horn and a head light, had class.  His metal lunch box, brought home at the end of the day of hard physical work at his first jobs, was not always empty – there was the tiny baby squirrel tossed from its nest by Hurricane Hazel in ’54 that he challenged me to nurse to maturity, and the fat little puppy named Rusty.  There was our first TV ever brought home in ’57, a broken down old B/W that he fixed up himself; the horse, Shorty, that stayed with us in Grampa Smith’s chicken house; the first motorcycle ride on his Indian with the gearshift on the right side of the gas tank (I was hugging your Dad, and holding on for dear life); and the boat behind which he taught me how to water ski.  Would you believe he used to let me drive his snazzy ’58 Ford Thunderbird on dates when I was old enough?  Now clearly, that was the peak of selflessness!

I could go on and on, but won’t here.  There can be no end to discussions on how special your Dad was, and still is, for the reasons you cited.  His presence enriched us all beyond measure.

As Shelby has so astutely observed, Dad’s sister and I have apparently voted, separately yet unanimously … HE WAS THE BEST!

Love to you all,
Uncle Lloyd

I shared many years with Glenn, High School, Reserves and Weekends motoring around with Glenn and Don Denlinger. Coming back from our Army physical and having my car blow its engine on the turnpike & preceding for us to hitch hike home & gets Glenn’s car to tow mine home. Having one of Glenn’s classmates tell me that Glenn played the piano at HS reunion, which gave me confidence to play my pipes at our 50th L-S HS reunion. I am suffering from Pseudogout attack in my left wrist or I would offer to blow the pipes for Glenn! Even got my pipes out and tried blowing. Glenn was a fine gentleman and good friend, & I’m sorry I didn’t get to visit him more. A tear was shed this morning when I read the newspaper. Sandy, you married a wonderful guy!
God Bless you and the family.
Stan Longenecker

Dad:

Love you and miss you dearly.

Tim