Tribute to the Man

 

 

While I try to keep up in a timely fashion with the travels of the Flying Scotsman and its inhabitants, the loss of Dr. Clare Gunn, my dad, has set us back a couple of steps.

 

As I reported in the last blog the onset of ill feeling and then his rapid passing really caught us all by surprise. We were staying at the Aggieland RV park since the emergency call and our friend and great host Chuck there let us stay until everything had been settled and taken care of.

 

Not that there was much to plan for as Dad had meticulously laid out every step that all the participants should do and the timing and manner that it should be carried out. The viewing per his wishes was conducted on the 29th of November as we had to wait for people to try to get to College Station through the busy Thanksgiving holiday. The viewing was at the Trevino-Smith Funeral Home and a close friend of Dad's, Patti Wade, took care of everything. Patti's father and she had had coffee and donuts at Shipley's for over 20 years every day of the week with Mom and Dad. Extremely professional and very attentive staff for the four hour visitation period and we got to talk to many of Dad's friends from around the area as well as some who had come across the country.

 



 

As the weather was still about 55 degrees and rainy on Monday the 30th, we held an indoor ceremony at the Rest Ever Cemetery in Bryan. Again the funeral home came through with a wonderful service which ended with the four boys each being presented with a rose taken from Pop's flowers on the casket ... really moving.

After the internment was complete we then headed to the A & M Methodist Church in College for the memorial service. Again, the format, songs, scriptures, and speeches were totally prepared and scripted by the late Clare Gunn in incredible detail; he had also written the detailed obit for the local paper. For both the internment and the memorial service he had requested that "The Saints go Marching In" be played as he was an avid jazz follower. I'm sure the 150 or so folks attending the service at the church were surprised to watch us singing the tune as we all filed out of the place ... pure Dad.

After it was all done we went back to Rich and Kerry's place to reflect a bit. One of the memorabilia we had retrieved from Dad's room were four of the rope bolo ties that he quite often wore when a real tie was not needed. We drew lots and each son got one of the ties ... I think that's the first time I had ever worn one of those. Thanks Pop for the memories as they will live forever!