Lyle Suter
My Great uncle passed away this past Wednesday of Alzheimer's disease. It had been working him down for about 2 years now, and it was tragic to see his decline. In a way though it made his death easier to accept as nature taking its course.
His children (my cousins) are all in thier 50's and have no kids of my own. I believe I made a post in here months ago about how my dad's side of the family has no children of my generation - thus me and my brother are all that is left of the Marshall family name. I knew that the time would come where that family would begin its descent, and that time has come. But enough about me, I will try to remember as much as I can about this man.
Lyle and my great aunt originally lived very close to my parents house, maybe 5 blocks down the road, and a few houses down from our local church where I would attend in my early years. After sunday school i would trot over to their place and just hang out, have cookies or whatever they had around, and watch TV with him. He had his Man-Chair that I wouldn't even try to sit in; I would usually just sit on the floor. That house was where I first saw the Wizard of Oz, and where I first touched a computer (my grandfather's Commodore 64). Lyle was very much a guy in that he did his own thing around the house, and sometimes didn't want to be bothered, especially when he got to his studio. As kids we weren't allowed in the studio and the door and windows were locked so We had no clue what was actually going on in there until we got older.
Lyle was an amazing painter. Even today his work lie sin museums and libraries. He had a very cool, art-decoish style that was blended with thick black lines (almost like americanized kabuki style). He was an incredibly capable sketcher as well, and created photorealistic pictures of family members. On top of that he built a chair for me for I think my 5th birthday, which I still have to this day. Still sturdy.
He was a WW2 veteran, but his job was not glamorous. It was one of the most depressing I would say. He was tasked with spraying the dead bodies that were to return to keep them from rotting and keep the smell off. Lyle never really spoke of his Army days (i even had to pry information of his past out of my aunt), but he will be given full military honors at his funeral. I've never seen that in real life, only what I see on the History Channel. If I can make it out on Wednesday, I'd love to see it.
Lyle was, for the 27 years since I was born, the family grandmaster of Thanksgiving. Dinner would not start without him, and he would always be the one to say grace. Every year, even when we changed the dinner from His house to our house, to Palm Desert. He had a sharp wit (one of his sons picked it up actually thank goodness) and always had a great story to tell and jokes on hand to make every year an exciting event. The holiday is so close this year, and he passed right before it, which I think has thrown the entire holiday into question for the Marshall/Suter family. It's a very good thing that we had the Family Reunion this past summer, as there is now a full support group for my aunt, and maybe there can be some hope for future Thanksgiving dinners with them. But for now, and with my grandfather unable to travel due to surgery...I honestly fear this is the beginning of the end.
Other than that there are only a few tidbits of his life I know of:
-He was a Freemason and actually got far up in the ranks enough that he had a ceremonial sword and scabbard.
- His 3 kids are technically my cousins, we have a huge age gap between us though (30 years).
-He never enjoyed celebrating his birthday, at one point storming out of a restaurant while we sang happy birthday to him.
I suppose people mourn differently, but I can't understand how people could make myriad different posts on social networks about how sad and devastated they are that someone died, and how much they are crying - but not ever explain why they are crying about this person, or even who they are. Not even enough to put a name to the tragedy, they keep it all behind the scenes, never letting the full memory and scope of the person come to light. There is no empathy or context to the sadness, just cryptic updates about some nebulous event and now they are sad. It's extremely irritating.
His children (my cousins) are all in thier 50's and have no kids of my own. I believe I made a post in here months ago about how my dad's side of the family has no children of my generation - thus me and my brother are all that is left of the Marshall family name. I knew that the time would come where that family would begin its descent, and that time has come. But enough about me, I will try to remember as much as I can about this man.
Lyle and my great aunt originally lived very close to my parents house, maybe 5 blocks down the road, and a few houses down from our local church where I would attend in my early years. After sunday school i would trot over to their place and just hang out, have cookies or whatever they had around, and watch TV with him. He had his Man-Chair that I wouldn't even try to sit in; I would usually just sit on the floor. That house was where I first saw the Wizard of Oz, and where I first touched a computer (my grandfather's Commodore 64). Lyle was very much a guy in that he did his own thing around the house, and sometimes didn't want to be bothered, especially when he got to his studio. As kids we weren't allowed in the studio and the door and windows were locked so We had no clue what was actually going on in there until we got older.
Lyle was an amazing painter. Even today his work lie sin museums and libraries. He had a very cool, art-decoish style that was blended with thick black lines (almost like americanized kabuki style). He was an incredibly capable sketcher as well, and created photorealistic pictures of family members. On top of that he built a chair for me for I think my 5th birthday, which I still have to this day. Still sturdy.
He was a WW2 veteran, but his job was not glamorous. It was one of the most depressing I would say. He was tasked with spraying the dead bodies that were to return to keep them from rotting and keep the smell off. Lyle never really spoke of his Army days (i even had to pry information of his past out of my aunt), but he will be given full military honors at his funeral. I've never seen that in real life, only what I see on the History Channel. If I can make it out on Wednesday, I'd love to see it.
Lyle was, for the 27 years since I was born, the family grandmaster of Thanksgiving. Dinner would not start without him, and he would always be the one to say grace. Every year, even when we changed the dinner from His house to our house, to Palm Desert. He had a sharp wit (one of his sons picked it up actually thank goodness) and always had a great story to tell and jokes on hand to make every year an exciting event. The holiday is so close this year, and he passed right before it, which I think has thrown the entire holiday into question for the Marshall/Suter family. It's a very good thing that we had the Family Reunion this past summer, as there is now a full support group for my aunt, and maybe there can be some hope for future Thanksgiving dinners with them. But for now, and with my grandfather unable to travel due to surgery...I honestly fear this is the beginning of the end.
Other than that there are only a few tidbits of his life I know of:
-He was a Freemason and actually got far up in the ranks enough that he had a ceremonial sword and scabbard.
- His 3 kids are technically my cousins, we have a huge age gap between us though (30 years).
-He never enjoyed celebrating his birthday, at one point storming out of a restaurant while we sang happy birthday to him.
I suppose people mourn differently, but I can't understand how people could make myriad different posts on social networks about how sad and devastated they are that someone died, and how much they are crying - but not ever explain why they are crying about this person, or even who they are. Not even enough to put a name to the tragedy, they keep it all behind the scenes, never letting the full memory and scope of the person come to light. There is no empathy or context to the sadness, just cryptic updates about some nebulous event and now they are sad. It's extremely irritating.