Eulogy for John K. Fleming

John K. Fleming was my hero. If he did anything, it was for his family first, his friends second, the greater good third and himself last. He was an independent man, who never asked for help, even after he really started to need it. He enjoyed simple pleasures and never overindulged on material needs. He had a mind for economics and renovation, always dreaming up projects to work on in his spare time that were artistic, engineering, yet surprisingly cost-effective. He was the greatest friend and, more importantly, the greatest father a boy could ever have.

John's main priority was to provide for his family, doing so on a papermill worker's salary, a salary that was often given through cyclical employment. John was prepared to do many different jobs in the case of unemployment, having even earned the license to operate a cargo truck as something to fall back on. He was skilled in carpentry and was a virtual handyman which could have led to a number of different employment opportunities. At the end of the day, John's family would always have been safe economically.

If ever there was a more generous person with such limited resources, you would never meet him. During a snowstorm, after taking care of his own driveway, John would often plow snow for the people in his neighborhood, his friends, and his mother a whole town away without expecting any compensation. He would show a great deal of compassion for people who had to work out in the cold, as that type of weather may not have bothered him as much, though he knew that it must have been a greater burden for others. He would bring coffee or hot chocolate to one gas pump attendant friend of his in particular just because he had to be out in the cold all day and surely wasn't getting much respect from the general, "gas n' go" public. The same goes for frosty milkshakes in the humid summer.

Despite all the service that he performed for his community, he never asked for assistance that he didn't intend to pay for, and he never expected it, either. And it didn't bother him. He was his own man, and he got by on his own steam, and he didn't think less of others for not doing the same. I imagine that one of the hardest things for him in the last years of his life was to ask for help on an almost hourly basis, and harder still when he couldn't even vocally ask.

John loved hunting, fishing, ice fishing, four-wheelin', doing anything with his boys, and most of all, just driving around in his truck. He was always active. He always had something planned for every day, whether he had to work on one of his many projects or just take his boys target shooting in a gravel pit. He was very familiar with the Katahdin area an would just decide to drive its roads for hours with no destination, often just to introduce his boys to their home. All of their home. These simple pleasures were, sadly, the first of many things that were taken from John due to his illness. It is my biggest regret that I did not share in these activities more often, as that was all he wanted to do with them. Share them.

John's house was just that, John's house. After all of the renovation he did to the house it could be nothing other than his. It was built by his grandfather-in-law almost 70 years ago, but it ceased being his house after John moved in. The obvious masterpiece was John's deck, an amalgam design of his own based on observations he made by scouting the patios of other buildings. About 15 years old now, the deck stands solidly to this day, with very little wear. It is sad that many of his later designs were used in order to help him move around his house. The numerous modifications made to the house would fill an accessibility design dreambook.

John, like most of his peers, would smoke and drink, but only to an extent. He was, at worst, casual with his vices. When he married, he would make sure never to smoke indoors, often using his prized patio to smoke off of, or he'd smoke out of the window of his truck. He stopped drinking alcohol after both of his boys were born, and he eventually quit smoking as well, his will spawning from his need to keep his children safe from such harmful things.

To his wife's protest, his philosophy on fatherhood was that he wanted to be a friend to his boys. He was devoted and generous to them moreso than any others. While fun and carefree with his sons, he would also make sure that they never did any of the wrong things that he regretted doing when he was a boy, but he never scolded them harshly. The knowledge of his disapproval of a wrongdoing seemed to be enough for his boys. However, when it came to defining what a wrongdoing was, his mantra on the subject was as it was handed down by his father, "Let Them Boys Be Boys". So it was no surprise that his sons were entitled to some internal conflict at least. That said, he did the best he possibly could with his children, and they both couldn't have turned out to be better men because of him. This is proven by their return devotion to him up until his final days.

John K. Fleming was as great a man as there could ever have been. His virtues made him an inspiration to those who defined him by them. He was diligent, compassionate, generous, independent, creative, and paternal. He was a shining example for all of those traits and one can only hope to shine those values as brightly as he did. John will be remembered and missed by all who knew him. He'll live on through his boys, and they shall pass on his legacy to the generation that follows their own.

John Kilby Fleming was my hero.
He was my inspiration.
He was my mentor.
He was my friend.
He was my father.

In memorandum.

John Kilby Fleming

December 31, 1962 - September 5, 2008
Passed away at age 45 of advanced multiple sclerosis.