The Eller Chronicles

October 12, 1993 605 Vine St. Martins Ferry, OH 43935   J. G. Eller RR 2 Box 145--D Whittier, NC 28789   Dear Gerald: It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that John passed away Sept. 25, 1993. He had the first lung operation on Sept. lst., and got along fine. The second one for the right lung did not go well; he was in ICU for almost two weeks; never could breathe on his own, plus heart complications, etc., and did not survive. The second operation was on Sept. 13th. The cancer grew from the size of 50� pieces on both lungs, and when he was operated on they were the size of baseballs, according to the surgeon. This was from a period from June to September. I just cannot get back to genealogy right now. Maybe later. If you do publish my Henry Eller Family, please make some statement about possible errors, and would welcome corrections or additions. Paul Phipps thinks some of Henry's first children might have been born in PA, and is questioning one of the girl's marriages. All for now. Sincerely, Clarice Eller Stanley

A Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi Lord make me an instrument of     your peace Where there is hatred, let me sow     love Where there is injury, pardon, Where there is doubt, faith, Where there is despair, hope, Where there is darkriess, light,     and where there is sadness, joy O Divine Master, grant that I may not     so much seek to be consoled     as to console To be understood as to understand, To be loved, as to love, For it is in giving that we     receive It is in pardoning that we are     pardoned. And it is in dying that we are     born to eternal life IN MEMORY OF John H. Stanley DATE OF BIRTH. July 14, 1918 DATE OF DEATH Sept 25, 1993 FUNERAL MASS Tuesday 11 A.M. St. Mary's Church FINAL RESTING PLACE Holly Memorial Gardens Pleasant Grove, Ohio Keller Funeral Service Martins Ferry, Ohio

EULOGY FOR WILLIAM RILEY WHITE November 4, 1931 - January 5, 1993

    Thank you, on behalf of all of Bill's family for joining us today as we gather to celebrate the life of William Riley White, and to share with one another a few of the many wonderful memories each of us has tucked away for safe keeping in our hearts.
    Bill was born and raised in Marshall, North Carolina, the son of Guy White and Anna Belle Worley White Fisher. He attended Marshall High School where he played varsity football. For the past 38 years, Bill lived in Maryland. He worked for the District of Columbia Transit Company for several years and later owned and operated his own businesses in this area and in North Carolina. He enjoyed reading, fishing and sports. How appropriate that his Washington Redskins made it to the play-offs.
    Bill served with the 17th Infantry in Korea. He was a decorated veteran and a Life Member of the Veterans of Foreign Wars, Annapolis Post #304. At the burial service today, he will be accorded full military honors.
    Bill White was connected to each of us in different ways. He was a beloved husband to his wife, Linda, a loving father to his three children (Linda, Pam and Roy), a loyal ally to his brother, Tom; and a proud grandfather - known as PaPa - to Jennifer, Diana, Amanda and Scottie. To some, he was Uncle Bill. To others he was a cousin, a brother-in-law, a father-in-law, a friend. During the past few days, family members have come together from various parts of the country. It has been a time to reminisce, to relive stories from the past and to recall with the warmth that is family love, those happy, or sad, or funny, or poignant experiences and memories which comprise the rich tapestry of a family's heritage. I am honored to have been asked to share with you a few of the special remembrances and memories so dear to the hearts of each family member.
    Jennifer's memory to share actually spans many years. One day, when she was very young, Jennifer came into the room where Bill was intently watching a Redskin football game on television. She decided that her PaPa had watched just about enough television. She marched her little self over to the TV and turned it off. (Now, it was well known to everyone, except Jennifer at that age, that you did not disturb Bill during Redskins games for any reason.) So Bill jumped up, turned on the TV and swatted Jennifer. Jennifer must have thought, "My, isn't this funny", because she started to laugh. Her grandfather did not think it was funny and he did not start to laugh. He jumped up again, and this time swatted Jennifer in such a way that she would - in her own words - never forget.
    Last week, Jennifer visited her grandfather in the hospital. once again a Redskins game was on television. A rather large nurse came in the room and stood beside Bill's bed in such a way that she completely blocked his view of the TV - the Redskins - the playoff game. Jennifer whispered to her Aunt Pam, "Oh my goodness, doesn't she realize what happens to people who get in the way of PaPa watching the Washington Redskins? Does she want to get swatted?
Why, she's taking her life into her own hands."
This time it was funny. . . . Jennifer, you were the first grandchild and I know how very proud your grandfather was of the beautiful young woman you have become.

    Diana wanted to share a remembrance that could be entitled "A Game Called Slap the Belly". She recalls how her PaPa would pretend to hit you with one hand (missing of course) and, for sound effects - would slap his stomach at the same time with the other hand. one day Bill was playing this game with Diana. They were laughing and having a great time - Diana pretending to rebound from her PaPa's "hits", and PaPa just slapping away on his stomach. Somehow Bill lost his concentration and really did connect with Diana. Bill looked at Diana. Diana looked shocked. Diana looked at Bill. Bill looked horrified. They both must have looked hilarious, because they both burst into laughter and couldn't stop for the longest time. . . . Diana, I'm sure your grandfather appreciated your zest for life. I remember how much he enjoyed your notorious antics - like smashing your hand right through your first birthday cake or your incredible scaling of doorways. I know you and he loved each other very much.
    Apparently Jennifer and Diana secretly gave their grandfather a new name - PaPa Bear. They wouldn't tell me why, but perhaps they will tell you if you ask.
    This past summer, Bill and his brother, Tom, spent quite a bit of time with Linda and Pam and their families. Amanda remembers that her PaPa and Uncle Tom were trying very hard to be the "Perfect Houseguests". Amanda told her PaPa that the only thing keeping him from being the absolutely "Perfect Houseguest" was his habit of getting up so many times during the night and squeaking the door each time he walked in one direction and each time he came back to bed. After all, she told him, "No 'Perfect Houseguest' would keep their hostess awake all night with squeaking doors." Being a fairly analytical, if not downright cagey thinker, Bill oiled the door hinges ending the squeaks. He continued to get up as much as he wanted, and got promoted by Amanda to the status of "Perfect Houseguest."
    Amanda also fondly remembers her visit of last summer. While her Grandmother Linda was at work, she and her PaPa would sit for hours around the kitchen table, reading books together and just being together . . . . a very special time for two very special people.
    Even little Scottie can contribute a PaPa memory. Apparently Scottie takes awhile to warm up to new people or people he has not seen for a long time. Last summer, when his PaPa would come for a visit, Scottie would forgot his shyness completely and would head straight for his PaPa. What was the attraction? - Bill's stomach. Scottie loved playing, what Pam called, the "belly drum".

    Daughter Linda has a special memory which could be called, "The Purple Car Incident". Her Dad had promised to paint her VW purple. A few days later, Bill came home and said, "Well, look out the window at your new purple car." Linda looked. "There's no purple car." she said. Bill, trying again said, "Look out there again. I know there is a purple VW out there. 11 Linda looked again and replied "I am telling you Dad there is no purple VW. The only VW I see is the one painted a horrible fuschia pink." "That's not pink," Bill exclaimed. "That is purple!" It's a good thing that nothing vital in life depends on knowing the difference between pink and purple. Actually this was just another case where Bill may have gotten his colors just a little bit mixed up. Not to mention the fact that Bill spent several years driving busloads of people around D.C., unable to tell the difference between red and green! . . . . Linda, I know you are grateful that you had the opportunity to spend time with your Dad in the past few weeks. I also know that you are grateful for the opportunities you and your Dad had, to share your love and caring for each other.
    Pam smilingly remembers a story from her childhood One day, Linda locked herself in the bedroom and would not open the door for Pam. Pam wanted to get in the bedroom so she proceeded to get a hammer and began beating on the door. The hammer crashed into the door, knocking a huge hole in the wood. Pam remembers sitting there by the door, sure that when her Daddy came home, she would be in big trouble. The longer she sat and waited, the more certain she became that she was going to die. Bill came home and looked at the gaping hole in the door and looked down at the now-shaking Pam. To her surprise - and great relief - he just began laughing and laughing . . . . Pam, you recently shared with me the fact that your Father was always so supportive of you, and was happy as long as you were happy. You were his free-spirit and were, without doubt, much loved.
    One of Roy I s most vivid and special memories of his Dad occurred when he was in the first grade. The class was discussing fathers. Individual children were telling the class about the greatest feats their dads had ever accomplished. Roy's turn came. According to the teacher, Roy stood up and smiled smugly - ready to tell the world about his Father's greatest feat. As recorded later in a newspaper article, Roy's words were something like this: "My Daddy can pick up a Volkswagen with one hand. "And," he continued, striking a pose like a waiter carrying a heavy tray of dishes, "He can lift it over his head like this!" What greater vote of confidence could any father want? . . . Roy, I bet your Father thought that you could lift a VW over your head as well.
    As brothers, Bill and Tom had an exceptional relationship. You could actually watch them communicate and understand one another - almost without words. They shared a fierce loyalty, and a special, unbreakable bond. They would do anything - at any time - or at any place for one another. Tom has so many great memories of growing up with Bill and of their adults years as well. He recalls one year when Bill was young, in one of the early grades in school. At the Annual Spelling Bee for all students from first through twelveth grades, Bill proved to be a better speller than anyone, even the high school students, and walked off with first place!
    Another remembrance was beautifully recorded in the following newspaper article from 1942.

    Tom's final story is also quite amazing. In November of 1950, Bill was serving with the U. S. Army in Korea. His unit was one of the first into action. They were fresh from basic training and were underfed, underclothed for the cold weather and underequipped. The infantry marched north to the Manchurian Border. At one point, the entire force was surrounded by the enemy. They had to literally battle their way out - inch by inch, in freezing temperatures and blizzard conditions. Survival odds were very poor. Bill made it back safely.
    During this same period of time, a man stood up during a church service in Marshall and said to the congregation, "We must stop this service now. I know that Bill White is in grave danger at this very moment. We must stop the service and pray for him." The minister and the congregation heard something very urgent in the man's words. The service was stopped and the entire congregation got on their knees and prayed for Bill's protection and safety.
    Shortly after the church service, Bill's parents received this letter from him.

    How incredible it was that the prayers of the people of the little town of Marshall, North Carolina, were heard and answered half-'way around the world on the border of Manchuria.
    Bill's loving wife, Linda, has many, great memories to cherish. One she chose to share today goes back to Roy's birth. After having two girls, Bill was thinking it might be nice to have a boy. Linda said she will never forget his face, coming in the room after Roy was born, smiling from ear to ear and saying, "We had a boy!" Roy's birthday is just one day before Linda's. So the next day, Bill wrapped Roy up in a blanket and came into Linda's room saying, "Here's your birthday present!"
    In between his last two hospital visits, Bill had a very rough time. Linda was there for him, giving him gentle and loving care. Bill made it very clear how much he appreciated all that Linda did for him. Nothing would do for Bill, and he was not going to be satisfied until Linda had some very special mementos to remind her of his love and gratitude. . . . Linda, we know that those gifts from Bill did not cost a million dollars in the store. But we know that to you they are priceless treasures.
    We hope these brief remembrances have added to your own personal celebration of the life of Bill White. As you have heard, he was many things to us - heroic, quick thinking, brave, hard working, mechanically gifted and deeply loved by his family and friends.... Roy, you summed it up very well when you said, "My father was the greatest - He always was and always will be.."
    It is incredibly hard to say good-bye. During Bill's last days, Pam said she became increasingly aware that each time someone left the room, her Dad would, in some special way, say goodbye to that person. The last time I saw Bill, early on Tuesday, he squeezed my hand and gave me a smile and a nod. I know now that was my goodbye. Bill passed away on Tuesday, in the arms of his wife, holding the hand of his daughter and in every sense of the meaning, embraced by the love in the hearts of his family.
    Sometimes Bill wanted you to think that he was rough and tough and gruff. I don't know about you, but I never believed it for a moment. Bill White was a man whose will and determination were made of iron and whose heart was made of gold.

Eller Lineage:
WILLIAM RILEY WHITE ( Guy Riley White, Wm. Riley White & Lavinia Eller, Wm. Egbert Eller, Joseph P. Eller, Adam Eller, John Jacob Eller, Jr., Johu Jacob Eller, Sr.)

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