Eulogies for Mark

Mark with his boss and friend, Butch Marmon

Butch Marmon was Mark's boss at Golf Discount.
     Mark DeWalle was blessed from birth. He has the most supportive, strong, giving family I have ever had the privilege to know. Don and Barb, his older brother, John, John's wife, Tabitha, his Grandmother Joyce. His multitude of friends that never forgot about him or lost support or belief in him. I work with a lot of young people but I must tell you I have never met a classier, more caring group of young people,
    When John, Mark's brother, asked me to say a few words, I was both honored and humbled by the request. I thought to muself what to say? How do you come up with words that are eloquent enough to do justice to a young man who meant so much to all of us? How do you speak to his character, his resolve, his strength or his caring? How do you make sense of the challenges he faced with steely determination over the last few months? How do you tell him how proud you are of him and the man he was? How do you express your admiration for a man, at 24, facing life and death on his own terms? I am certain my words will fall far short of the depths to which Mark has touched me and yes, changed me for the rest of my life.
     In December, Mark called me to tell me that the doctors had found cancer again. He was on his way home and as you might expect, very emotional. We talked for a long while. As the conversation went on I came to realize that he was not as emotional about the cancer as he was about having to go home and tell his parents. He understood and was prepared for the fight he had ahead of him but was more concerned about how devaastating the news would be to his family. I offered to go with him to talk to Barb and Don. He thanked me and simiply said "this is something I have to do myself." There were many things in the last few months Mark had to to do himself. Things that test a person's character and his faith. Mark had no shortage of either. However, he was never, ever without the support of his family, friends andco-workers. I cana tell you that support meant the world to him. He felt the need to be strong for us and his attitude through this difficult battle was an inspiration to all of us who were blessed enough to be close to Mark.
     On Monday, April 16th, The Mark DeWalle Golf Classic was held at Old Hickory Country Club. In snowed on Saturday preceding the event but we wound up with a glorious sunny day for the event. There were 240 players in the event. He had talked about the tournament for the 2 months we were planning it and said he would be there. I just kind of nodded my head thinking as he lay in bed exhausted there is no way. Just rest. I talked to Barb and she shared with me that he had not been out of bed and had been ill since his chemo on Monday. At 9am who pulls up and says "Can I get a car? I want to go say hi to the players." Mark was there for 10 hours! He spoke to EVERY person in both the morning and afternoon rounds and went home. He was in bed for the next four days but he taught me never to doubt him or his desire to do something. I never did again.
     On May 5th, a volleyball tournament was held for Mark. Again, he was tired and not certain of his stability but it was like a Mehlville High School reunion playing in the event. People who had spent some of the most fun times of his life were going to be there. Again, there were doubts whether he was up to it or not BUT there was no doubts in Mark's mind. They can take time to do this for me? Why can't I take the time to show up He would just give you this disgusted look as if to say don't baby me and on his way he went. There was no quit in this young man...EVER!
     In visiting the hospital of the DeWalle home over the last few months, there was never a time when friends, family and co-workers were not there. I'm certain all of us were there to show him we loved and supported him and were searching for words to cheer him up or motivate him. I can only speak for myself but I always left motivated by him! It is amazing to me that a man in a battle for his life could be so strong for those around him. He never whined, never complained. He was just focused on what he needed to do to win his battle and he expected without saying it that you do the same. It was a given and he demanded through his attitude that yours be just as positive. That was Mark. He was a man of character, inner strength, determination, focus and just by his actions, loving and caring. I am certain that as Mark looks down on us he is saying "It will be ok, guys. Don't cry for me. I have a great family and great friends. I am still in the game, I am just playing on a different field.: Then he would flash that sly little grin and there can be no doubt he has things under control.

Coach Heyde & Mark at 2000 Varsity Banquet

Gary Heyde was Mark's high school football coach.
Mark dearly loved and respected Coach Gary Heyde. Even after his years of playing football at Mehlville, Mark continued to want to please and honor his coach. Hours before he died, Mark requested Coach to come see him...he wanted to be sure even then that Coach Heyde was not disappointed in him and that he felt that Mark had "played his best."

When I learned that Mark wanted me to speak at his funeral, I was surprised, honored and afraid of giving a eulogy about someone as important to me as Mark.
     I have known the DeWalle family a long time and I think I have a good idea about what Mark would want said here today. If you have stopped by the DeWalle house during the last three weeks, you might know that Mark had some rules about being in his room.
   #1--No crying. I am sure we will violate that rule.   #2-Nothing negative...no talking about his condition. He wanted to talk about the good times. I encourage everyone today, to tell stories about Mark and all of the good times we had with him. I believe that Mark would want today to be a celebration of the life he had.
     I would like ro recognize Mark's family, relatives, friends, co-workers, coaches and teammates for being here. You were very important to Mark and obviously Mark was and always will be important to you. Everyone expressed their love and support in their individual ways and Mark and the family are truly grateful.
    Mark felt that he lived a very blessed life. He knew he had wonderful parents. Don and Barb DeWalle are the most caring and generous people I know. Mark was very aware of how blessed he was to have such wonderful parents.
     I have known Mark's brother, John, as a player and a coach for a long time. I don't know how you could be a better brother than John. He was a tremendous esample for Mark and the relationship the two had was something very special.
     Mark knew how blessed he was to have John as a brother and friend. He welcomed Tabby into the family as a sister and was proud to be an uncle to Michael and Danny. His Grandma Joyce held a special place in his heart and Mark treasured the times with his aunts, uncles and cousins.
The friends that Mark had have been unbelieveable. Their love for Mark that I have witnessed is truly amazing. His friends have come from hundreds of miles away to be t here for him. All of Mark's friends were important to him and I would like to thank you for your support and compassion to Mark and his family during the tough times.
     Then there is Mark's football family. When his brother's team lost in the state semi-final, Mark said on the field that day to John that he was going to win the state championship for both of them and he did.
     There is a bond between Mark and his teammates. This is so strong that it is hard to describe. I was the DeWalle's house the night before he passed away and Mark had requested that he have his state championship medal put on him. To Mark, I believe that medal symbolized all of his teammates and the bond he had with them. He wanted them to be there with him at the end.
     What impressed me the most was the courage that Mark exemplified throughout his battle and at the end of his life.
     I have some words from a great leader and his writings entitled, Looking for Some Peace. I feel these words exemplify Mark's courage:
         "When you time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fearof death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Instead, sing your death song, and die like a hero going home."
     Mark DeWalle is a hero of mine. Thank you.

Mark and his special buddy, Jeff Schnurbusch

Jeff Schnurbusch was a lifelong friend/neighbor of Mark's. Although Jeff was a decade or more older than Mark, both shared a special friendship matched by no other.
      I have some thoughts and short stories to share with you. My name is Jeff Schnurbusch and I was fortunate to grow up two doors away from the DeWalle family. And as so many of you here today already know, our neighborhood growing up was truly a village environment. It was truly a “big brother” society, in a good way. When Barb and Don DeWalle moved into the
neighborhood, they were a perfect fit. Don became the kind of surrogate big brother to my brother and me. The kind of neighbor that took you to a ballgame when dad couldn’t make it, sneaked you the occasional beer in his garage when we were just teens, and didn’t treat you as though you were a pest. But those things were a “big deal” to us.
     My own older brother John and I, as well as my sisters Amy and Angee felt the need to do our part in keeping the village feeling going with Johnny and Mark, as well as we had with all the neighborhood kids (Jimmy, Andrew, and Emily Brockmeyer, Jason and Josh Shelton, Tony Chytla, the Milleses - all the neighborhood children). My brother John and Johnny DeWalle formed a good combo and clicked well together. Both of them are very headstrong, excelled in all their endeavors, and shared in that kind of “first born” thing that seemed natural. (Important things, such as the affinity for bad television known as “Dukes of Hazzard - General Lee sound)” but we enjoyed our roles and took them seriously. (and yes, no matter how old he gets, he will always be Johnny DeWalle to our family)
     But as was the case when I was young few things were as cool as those times you experienced when you get to hang out with the big kids. And that’s where Mark comes in. For Mark and me, it was a natural fit for a couple reasons: we were both born as 2nd children, already with a built-in older brother and that created a mutual connection. But it wasn’t anything that required work, it was natural. We spent a lot of time goofing around.
     It was truly one of those “big buddy/little buddy” situations; the kind where I could pick on Mark, but no one else better. And God knows how much I teased Mark, mercilessly at times about everything, but my favorite seemed to revolve around his speech. To hear him say it, you’d have thought he spelled his name M-a-w-k (Does that rhyme with Hawk or shark I‘d ask him? - He didn‘t know and didn‘t care. I’d ask him when his birthday was, and it was in Optober.) One summer day when Mark was about 5, he tried to tell me about a bee he caught earlier in the day. (Yes kids, before the days of 150 TV channels and endless video games, we did constructive things like catch bees in baby food jars) Apparently this was no normal bee, it was larger than that. The conversation went something like this:
Mark: I caught this huge bee earlier today
   Jeff: What kind of bee was it?
Mark: I think a yellow jacket, it was pretty “sick (meaning: thick)”
Jeff: How did you know the bee was sick?
  Mark: No, it was about this “thick (sick)” he said holding his fingers about an inch apart.
Jeff: How did you know? Do you think it went to the bee Doctor to find out?
Mark: I TOLD YOU I DIDN’T SAY HE WAS “SICK” I SAID HE WAS “SICK”!!!
     And that was just one example. But my absolute favorite “speech” story came just a little later, and would truly define a part of our history. Mark would routinely bring his baseball glove up the street and we would play catch for hours, I’d throw Mark pop flies and grounders with a tennis ball. I’d announce the play as he made it (a la Jack Buck), and Mark would put his own little style into each play. But once the grounders, the popups, and playing catch got old, I took the tennis ball and hammered it off the ground. “It’s a high chopper” I’d yell in my corny announcer voice, and Mark would chase the ball down and make the play, again and again and again. And from that day forward, we never played “catch” again. When we had our gloves on and a tennis ball - we played “high chopper” - except it wasn’t “high chopper,” in Mark-speak - it was “high Choppa.”
     And when I’d had enough, when I was tired, or had to leave, I would tell Mark the same thing - his mom had just called to say send him home because they were going to McDonalds. This worked so many times I almost felt bad, (almost). And later, Barb would give me the evil eye – (well, at least one evil eye). But I did have somewhat of a heart, and one summer day I took Mark to McDonalds for lunch myself. It was sunny, and we took the T-tops off
the car. (for those of you under the age of 21, T-Tops were basically a poor-man’s convertible). Mark hopped in the front passenger seat and headed out (yes I mad him use his seat belt). I don’t remember how long we were gone, what we talked about, or what we had for lunch, but the one thing I do remember was that Mark made damn sure everyone saw him, knew he was there, and that he was hanging out with his big buddy.

Jeff always could make Mark flash his famous smile.