Celebrant Pam Meily Vetter


	Celebrating Life Everyone Has A Story...

Tribute to Father
Written by Ellen Russell

Father was an optimistic, filled with joy, tender and caring, hardworking, never give up, generous, creative, theologian, historian, poet, traveller, genealogist, gardener, story teller, devoted and loving husband, father and grandfather, one of a kind, absolutely beautiful human being.

Reginald Holt Humphrey was the son of Ella Holt Humphrey and Sydney Perham Humphrey and was born in Pittsfield, Maine on March 6, 1913. Father had a younger brother, Laurence, and as a young family they moved to the very tiny village of Chelsea, Maine on the banks of the Kennebec River. It was a very happy family and dad often told us stories of his early childhood. He would go to the spring with a wooden bucket to obtain their drinking water. (Many years later he took us all there and it was absolutely the best tasting water, fresh and pure) When the family needed groceries they would go to the river where a "ferry man" would row them across to Hallowell and they would obtain their needed supplies. Dad remembered the ending of World War l. He was just four years old and he told of the soldiers marching back home and the cadence of their drums. This was a happy family with a happy home.

Father's parents passed on, however, when he and Larry were just young boys. They each went to live with separate uncles and their families. The brothers developed a very strong bond that lasted the rest of their lives. They were the best of brothers and always looked after each other. Father always kept the memory of his parents within his heart and he always shared wonderful stories about them.

A new chapter was about to begin in father's life as both he and Brother Larry were relocated to Clinton, Maine. It was here that father met the "love of his life". He was ten years of age and she was just eight. Father would tell of watching the Dixon girls out at play and there was one beautiful little girl named Phildora that really "caught his eye". They became pals, built their first play house out of bales of hay. Time passed, but father always "had an eye" for Phildora. He would call her his beautiful blue eyed Dixon girl.

They went through school together with father graduating from Clinton high school in 1932. Both father and mother realized the importance of education so after high school they each went off to their separate Universities. Father was very industrious and hard working. He began attending Colby College in Maine. He was on his own and had to earn all of the funds to pay for his tuition. He had to be self reliant and to depend on himself. He took whatever job he could find in order to pay for his education. He worked in the sheep skin tannery, helped on the farm, worked in the train yard. He was determined to get his degree, so he set his goal and worked towards his dream. In 1936 he graduated from Colby College with a degree in history.

After graduating from Colby, father set out on his first travel adventure with his good college friend Howard Sweet. They took a freighter ship to Europe, purchased bicycles, and began a cycle trip throughout Europe. This all occurred just prior to the beginning of WW2. Father told us many stories about this trip and how they were there to witness "history in the making"

Upon returning from his travels, father accepted a position as principal of the High School in Washington, Maine. He held this position from 1936-1938. All this while, there was always that "beautiful blue eyed Dixon girl" that never left his mind. On Sept. 2, 1938 father married "his forever sweet heart" and the "pretty little Dixon girl" was now "his lady".

The newlyweds moved to New Hampshire as father had accepted a position as sub master of Colebrook Academy. From 1939-1946 they also owned an operated a Grocery Store and a Poultry farm in Clinton. In 1943 father became a member of the Sebasticook Lodge Free and Accepted Mason. In 1945 he was a member of the Board of Selectmen in Clinton.

In 1944 a daughter was born to the busy couple. Father was always very loving and kind. When Ellen was very little he would take her into the hen house and as he crated up eggs for shipment he would have tiny Ellen sitting in another egg crate watching the proceedings. Father always enjoyed and loved having his children with him.

In 1946 the family of three decided that they no longer needed the winter snow of Maine. The palm trees, orange groves, sunshine and beaches of California sounded inviting. They built their last Maine snowman and then said good bye to winter and began a long journey in a home made trailer being pulled by an old Desoto. Uncle Larry and Aunt Dora joined the family of three and they had quite an adventure travelling across the United States. It took over a month to arrive in California. The only draw back was that the old trailer leaked and when it rained it got a little cold and wet in the back sleeping area. To "keep Ellen happy" father would make her palm trees out of newspapers, telling her to just be patient as we were headed to the "land of palm trees" and soon all would be well. Father had the ability to always persevere, to be optimistic, and always see the bright side and "hopefulness" in all situations. He knew that happiness was a personal choice. Happiness, or lack of, is not determined by external events. Happiness and joy is found with in.

The beautiful San Fernando Valley beckoned. They parked their trailer and found that there really was no housing to be found. Due to necessity, father decided that he would just build his family a house. He purchased a lot in Burbank and began building. Father had the ability to learn quickly and to be optimistic in following his dreams. The family home was lovely and people started coming by saying that they also wished to have just such a home. Being optimistic and hard working, father began building homes and they sold and before long he established Humphrey Homes. The parents worked together and were involved with this land development venture from 1947-1967.

In 1948 the family received their biggest surprise as it was determined that twin babies were on the way. This was a most joyful announcement and father was so very proud to be the father of twin sons. The years ahead were filled with great fun. The parents wanted to make sure that their children had a wonderful childhood. The family was filled with love and caring. Funds were scarce, but father was ever so creative and he made play equipment and toys for his children that all the neighbourhood children enjoyed. There was a very large wooden swing that one could "swing to the moon" on. A clubhouse was built to scale complete with windows, a door and a perfect shingled roof. The best of all was a very large set of wooden shapes that could be "put together" to create just about anything that a child could imagine. The best imagined configuration was a "rolling mobile" that would carry the neighbourhood children around the block and then some. This was a very happy family and a joyful home. Father also wanted us to experience a bit of the country so we started out with a dozen fuzzy baby chicks that turned into hens and much egg gathering. We experimented with pumpkin seeds and had a crop of very large pumpkins. Every neighbourhood child got to choose a pumpkin and that proved to be the best Halloween ever.

Having a close family was always very important to both of the parents. Every other summer we would travel back to Maine in order to keep in touch with our Maine family. These summers were wonderful back in Maine. We were such a lucky family to be able to spend time at Unity Pond and visiting family up at the farm. The road trip itself was also a great experience. Father was an historian and every trip had a theme. Father would plan the route so that we could experience a bit of history. We visited every battle field, went through both the Revolutionary and the Civil War, battle field by battle field. Route 66 was wonderful and we visited every site along the way and read every Burma Shave sign. Father made sure we lived life to the fullest and we did not miss anything along the way. On the summers that we did not travel back East, we would then spend time in California up at Lake Arrowhead and the Big Bear area. This obviously made a favourable impression on Brother Doug as he ended up choosing to live in the Big Bear area.

One of the biggest family trips was our trip to Europe. Father had this organized and we travelled through seven countries and learned the history of each. We were a very fortunate family to have such opportunities.

Father enjoyed studying genealogy and he spent many hours studying family history. He was most excited when he was able to trace the family back to the Mayflower and the passenger Stephen Hopkins. He enjoyed being a member of the Mayflower Society and he also became a member of the Order of the Founders and Patriots of America and the Society of Sons of the American Revolution.

The parents loved to travel and in later years they were most fortunate to be able to do so. They spent part of each winter in Hawaii. Cruising was their special treat and they enjoyed cruising the Mediterranean, Caribbean and Mexico. They loved having their family with them on these trips and very often we would be along as well as the grandchildren.One of father's favourite trips was to Capri and his visit to the Blue Grotto. Blue was his favourite colour and he said it was the most beautiful place he had ever seen.

Father loved all things beautiful. He spent years collecting intricate, lacy, antique Sandwich Glass. He loved to listen to tiny music boxes playing waltzes. The beauty of the moon held special significance. He always said that we would never be far apart if we could connect each night by looking at the moon even though we were thousands of miles apart. We could be looking at the same thing even though we were not together. We would always be together as we looked at the same moon at the same time, with the distance between California and Canada diminished by our "moon connection". I will forever look at the moon and know that father is still very near.

Father had a very generous spirit and he gave generously to many organizations. He always felt for those less fortunate. He knew first hand what it was like to start with nothing. He always had gratitude in his heart and a willingness to help others.

Father loved poetry and he had an incredible memory. Any verse that he truly appreciated he had committed to memory. Well into his nineties he could still recite all excerpts from his favourite readings. We all remember the "Cremation of Sam McGee" by Robert W. Service. He would recite the entire work with great inflection.

Father was not one to "give up". He would set his mind on a goal and stick with it to the end. We well remember his story from when he was in University and on the track team. He was not the fastest runner, but he never gave up. At one event he was falling way behind, but he was determined to do his personal best. He ran and ran and he was way at the back. Others in the "rear ranks" opted out, but father kept on running. When he finally did reach the finish line he received a standing ovation. He always did strive to do his very best and he never would quit and give up as he was the epitome of the eternal optimist.

Father was also a bit of a theologian. When "visitors" would come by wishing to speak of religion, father would always join into a conversation with great interest. He really knew the bible and could enter into great discussions on any religious level. We asked him once just how he knew so much about the various religions and spirituality in general. His reply was that he learned "at his mother's knee". When father was very young he would "go visiting" with his mother in the afternoons. His mother was interested in the bible and the further discussion of spirituality and any questions in regard to life. As a young lad he listened and he learned and as an adult he remembered.

Father was a great story teller. We all remember the story of Pio Pico and the Battle at Cahuenga Pass. Whenever we would leave Burbank and start over the Cahuenga Pass, by what is now Universal Studios and Warner Brothers, father would invariable retell the story of Pio Pico. As the story goes, many cannon were fired at a far distance, there were no human casualties, but the battle did come to an end after one horse and one mule were killed. To this day, it is told, that people in Burbank still occasionally will dig up a cannon ball while digging in their garden. We still recite this story as we go through the pass, even if father is not in the car.

Father was also "one of a kind". He absolutely loved and appreciated life and enjoyed every moment. With this in mind, a dear neighbour will tell the story of how he first met father. On a lovely, warm, sunny day father was to be found in a lounge chair comfortably reclining on the roof. When questioned as to why he was up on the roof he replied that "it was the most absolutely beautiful spot to enjoy such a wonderful day". He was closer to the warmth of the sun, the deep blue of the sky, the gentle breeze and the song of the birds in the tree tops. Where else could one spend such special time, but upon the roof?

Father was also a gardener. He had the most beautiful roses and they lined his driveway. For each of his three children he planted a special rose. One red, one yellow and one white. Every spring there was a bounty of yellow daffodils. Father found a special peace while in his garden. It is not surprising that one of father's favourite hymns was:

In the Garden

I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses; And the voice I hear, falling on my ear, The Son of God discloses. And He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own, And the joy we share as we tarry there, None other has ever known.

Father was a tender and caring man. When our poodle Gi-Gi became ill, it was father who nursed her along in hopes that she would recover. He did the same with Chrissy cat when she took ill. He would never give up on anything or anyone. He would hope for the best and always try his best to help.

Father was a loving and devoted husband, father, and grandfather. He offered unconditional love, was proud of his family and he always felt blessed and filled with optimism and joy. As a grandfather he adored all his grandchildren. They all had a chance to bounce on his knee to the nursery rhyme "Trot, trot to Boston,…..". As a father, we all received love, acceptance, guidance, and we were given incredible support to pursue our personal dreams and aspirations.

In marriage, the parents were devoted to one another. Father absolutely adored "his lady" and their's was and still is a true love story. For over fifty years they lived in the home they designed and built themselves. They were blessed with seventy years of marriage. Well into their nineties they could be found sitting on their front porch together, often holding hands, watching the squirrels in the front yard as they scampered around the Maine maple tree. They enjoyed looking at their beautiful flowers and listening to the wind chimes on the front porch. Father would often quote:

Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be. The last of life, for which the first was made. Robert Browning

Father was fortunate as he had the capacity to always see beauty and feel joy! One spring afternoon I was sitting with father and the day was warm, the sky was blue, the birds were singing and the jasmine bush was ever so fragrant. Father began to recite.

God's in His Heaven
From "Pippa Passes"

The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearled
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in his Heaven-
All's right with the world!

Robert Browning

What joy father always felt and what a wonderful life he enjoyed for as far as he was concerned, All was right with the world!

When mother passed on we asked father if he had a special song of remembrance. He responded with There's a Long, Long Trail A-Winding by John McCormack.

Nights are growing very lonely,
Days are very long;
I'm a-growing weary only
List'ning for your song.
Old remembrances are thronging
Thro' my memory.
Till it seems the world is full of dreams
Just to call you back to me.

There's a long, long trail a-winding
Into the land of my dreams,
Where the nightingales are singing
And a white moon beams:
There's a long, long night of waiting
Until my dreams all come true;
Till the day when I'll be going down
That long, long trail with you.

All night long I hear you calling,
Calling sweet and low;
Seem to hear your footsteps falling,
Ev'ry where I go.
Tho' the road between us stretches
Many a weary mile.
I forget that you're not with me yet,
When I think I see you smile.

We believe that the parents are holding hands and once again walking that long, long trail together.
A REAL LOVE STORY

For those who love…..time is eternity.
Henry Van Dyke