Eulogy

In a small chapel in rural Pennsylvania a small crowd barely fills the first 5 pews. The dank stone room is lit only by the green and red beams being projected from the stain glass windows. The streams of light point directly at a coffin at the front of the room. A sparse arrangement of dead and dying flowers decorates the wooden box, an unshaven man limps slowly to the pulpit and begins to speak.

Speaker: Well, I don't know what you can say about a guy like Larry (fidgets uncomfortably and clears his throat). He was fearless, that's for sure. And damn good at pool for a man blind in his right eye. But mostly I'd say he was devoted. Not a devoted father, I guess (nods solemnly to Brenda Jean and Cornwallis who sit on the front row -eyes locked on the coffin) No he wasn't that. Not a devoted employee either, don't reckon that old fart ever put in an honest days work in his life... (a few chuckles from the back) Well, y'all know there's a whole list of things Larry wasn't devoted to- his country, his women, his goldfish or his social and moral responsibilities. But that's not why we're here... and that's not why Larry's here either.

No, Larry devoted his entire life to a dream. Every fibre of his being was dedicated to reaching his ambition. Now- and I pray each day that God will forgive me for my lack of faith- when Larry told me about his vision I thought he was out of his mind. "You've got to lay off that damn pipe" I said "always locking yourself in your basement, smoking the rock for days on end and coming up with these crazy ideas". But Larry was not to be discouraged, and I truly believe he was on a mission from the Lord himself (chorus of amens from the pews). At the time, though, we were just kids, 16 year olds with the world in front of us. I remember it like it was yesterday, Larry came up to me with his right eye wide open and his left one all pointing somewhere else the way it used to. Larry, he comes up to me and says "Theodore, listen to me, I know why I was put on this earth. I've been drifting aimlessly around stealing and robbing, speaking hatefully to my elders and plain old wasting my life. But I've got a purpose, Theo, a vision. I am going to find out exactly how far a man can fall and stay alive.

And that's exactly what he did, he started that very day, climbed right on up to the top of his Aunts old oak tree, hung by both hands and then with an all mighty holler he just let go and dropped to the ground like a dead duck. My my my... he layed there still for a minute just groaning and drooling and then goes and pulls himself to his feet and starts walking around like nothings just happened. From that day on I was a believer. Now, he had other disciples, Judases mainly, but some were good men who didn't make it to be here today- but they never knew Larry like I did. I only ever tried falling myself one time, from the top of this very church believe it or not. Broke my leg in 15 places and have never been able to run let alone climb to the top of buildings and leap off. Now, you may question my devotion, but Larry never did- and in return I was with him every time he fell, there to pick up his teeth for those first weeks when he still had some. I was there when he landed on a small boy who was playing hide and seek. I was with him in every time he checked in to the hospital and was still there every time they wheeled him back out of the operating rooms. And I tell you what I never heard that beautiful man complain (Shouts of "That's Right" and "Hallelujah" echo through the building). No not once did he utter a single doubtful word or curse his maker for sending him on such a doomed mission. Instead he'd just be laying there planning his next fall.

Within a few years Larry was falling from as far 60 feet, and when he sensed he'd gone about as far as he could he'd jump from exactly an inch higher the next time. Larry was a religious man
and had little use for science, but he was a lot like a scientist the way he measured those drops writing them down in his book when he still could, and then telling me what to write in his later years when he could no longer move below his neck. Anyone remember when he first got that electric wheel chair, the way he used to sing as he rode round town? (coughs and then in a crackling baritone begins to sing) "I use da wokka ronda blocka now I dryyyyvaah!". We built a winch to get him to the top for each fall, and when he could no longer speak there was no question that he still wanted us to hoist him up an inch higher than last time. Now I think my time's running out, and I've said more than I intended to... but I've got one more thing to say. The priest won't let us bury Larry in the cemetery because he took his own life, but I want to say, as God is my witness, that Larry never jumped to die- Larry fell to live.