Eulogy for Howard Lester Naumann
March 22, 1926 – December 8, 2008
The Howard Naumann you saw walking (or riding) through the Isles of Vero Beach, took his first stroll across his mother’s kitchen floor when his was just 10 months old. Can you picture it? Little Howie standing up straight, his short, strong legs shaking just a little as he picked up one foot and plopped it down with a step, then picked up the other and plopped it down, too, until step after step he made it all the way across the room. If he could have talked, I’m sure she would have heard him say, “What’s so hard about that?”
Solid, assured, strong, able, Howard was a determined man and like most of us here, his was a soul shaped by the events of his childhood. Eager to join the Army, he enlisted but could only serve for a short year, returning home to become the sole provider to his mother after losing both his father and sister to cancer. He later enrolled in the Naval Reserves, where he served for 21 years. Proud to fly the flag, and even more proud to show the Highway Patrol his Veteran’s ID when necessary, Howard was a real patriot.
Howard was a man of many talents, most notably his woodcarving. He carved teeny-tiny bird feathers, and large soaring eagles, elaborate house signs, and simple plaques, and he carved beautiful landscape images of seashores, and tall sailing ships, and old New England buildings, each finished piece marked with his initials, H.N.
Howard was also a man of many words, often spoken…but always written. Did you know that Howard’s day officially started with not one crossword puzzle, but three crosswords, three of them! And he’d always finish each one.
Howard also loved his TV – sports and news – but mainly sports. He’d watch a ballgame and once it was over, turn the channel to start another one, didn’t matter if it was baseball, football or basketball, if it was a sporting event, it held his interest.
But the crossword puzzles and sports on TV came later in Howard’s life. Like most of you, he spent his early years working and raising a family.
Howard fell in love and married Sandra Locke in 1951, the mother of his two children, Jeffrey and Debbie. Many of you know that Howard always made an impression… so you can only imagine Howard’s first encounter with his soon-to-be father-in-law. Story goes that stepping up onto Sandra’s family’s porch, Howard didn’t just say hello or make small talk. No, Howard had to make sure that Mr. Locke knew that there must be a rotting dead animal under their floorboard because he had never smelled anything so absolutely awful in his life! Mr. Locke sternly corrected Howard by pointing to his home-crafted sauerkraut, aging under the steps.
Little did Howard know at the time that not only would he carry on a life with Sandy for 42 years, but he would also carry on her family’s tradition of making the home-spun, stinky sauerkraut.
Together he and Sandra lived a traditional life, with her taking care of the kids and him working. He worked for over 30 years in the elevator business, building and repairing elevators in some of the tallest buildings in the greater Boston area. A legend in the local scene, Howard was known far and wide as the guy who fell four stories down a shaft and not only lived to tell about it, but was up on crutches the next day. Breaking both of his arches and jamming bones in places all over his body, Howard’s resilience was truly amazing. The little boy with the strong shaky legs, was now a grown man who needed those legs to keep his job. He worked through the injury and then lived through the pain for the rest of his life. His feet, his hands, his bones showed the tour of duty his body served on that job. Metal detectors had a field day with all the pins, screws, plates and bolts in his body. But he never let that injury stop him, not even when he was 81 and driving his car with absolutely no feeling in his feet – nope – and he never let it stop him on his scooter either – no – he never let it stop him.
Howard was proud to be the bread-winner of his family and he took on the traditional role of “Dad.” He coached baseball teams, he paid for piano lessons, he drove them all to pick blueberries in the Blue Hills of Braintree, MA , he repaired a cut with his famous butterfly bandage, he took them on family vacations at Lake Winnipesaki, he spanked them, he kissed them, he loved them and he was never shy about telling them so. “I love you, Son” was often the last thing said on the phone call to Jeff. “I love you, too, sweetheart,” said to his daughter Debbie or his granddaughter, Rachel.
A marriage, he once wrote, is a beautiful experience of giving and sharing. Howard had a chance to give and to share the rest of his life with Jean when they married in 1998. Together for 10 years, Howard created many memories with Jean…some worth noting, others, well, not so much. But theirs was a marriage filled with love, and laughter, and good friends, and their honey’s Ewok, Foxy, Katy and Korky. With collars jingling, these pups always ran to his outstretched hand or a lap waiting for a petting or a belly rub. With Jean, they always fell into each other’s arms (sometimes literally), or Howard would rub her back, or take her hand and just hold it lovingly, peacefully, or he would gently kiss her goodnight…but jumping into his lap…well, that was reserved just for the dogs.
Howard died of ALS, known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease, named because of the famous Yankee ballplayer who also succumbed to the horrific illness. He died on December 8.
Just a month ago, when asked for what he was grateful in his life, he replied without hesitation, “my two wonderful children and my two wonderful wives.” I’m guessing he probably got so choked up that he couldn’t finish his sentence to say, “and for my good, dear friends.”
