Shoah: Family members murdered by the Nazis 1939-1945

While very little is know about any of these murders, most of the Jews from what is now southeastern Poland were rounded up and  taken to Belzec and Auschwitz-Birkenau death camp between 1941 [...]]]>

And many, many more  family members now unknown to us…

Photo © David R. Semmel 2003

]]> Donated by the Semmel Family, In Memory of the Silberman and Metzger Families

]]> http://semmel.com/mem/memorials/przemysl-memorial-stone/feed/ 0 http://semmel.com/mem/memorials/eulogy-for-doug-a-battin/ http://semmel.com/mem/memorials/eulogy-for-doug-a-battin/#comments Wed, 15 Jul 2009 21:06:45 +0000 David http://98.130.5.225/wordpress/?p=190 By Diane Battin Rogers

IN REMEMBRANCE OF MY FATHER 1931 – 2001

My father was a great man. Not so much for any one thing he did but for the sum of what he did, and the gifts he gave us. He died leaving behind a wife, a sister and a brother whom he adored, his three children and our spouses and six grandchildren. We are all a part of him and shared in the gifts he imparted. For him, we are his testament to greatness for he truly was content that he had worked hard, made a decent living and raised his children to be strong, independent and smart.

He was a simple man. He didn’t care too much about material possessions but liked his toys – nifty gadget things prompted by his years in the electronics industry and we were often the first in the neighborhood to have some new thing on the market – like a microwave and a vcr. He liked old movies and sports and could usually be found on a weekend afternoon watching a game on television. But his greatest sports passion was for big 10 football and in particular, the Iowa Hawkeyes.

As far back as i can remember he would take us to Iowa football games with my uncle Demi and aunt pat and cousin Amy and we would have a tailgate party and go to the game – my sister and I were probably two of only 6 and 8 year old girls who knew what a fumble was and the difference between offence and defense – knowledge that came in handy in our later dating years. I will come back to his love of big 10 football in a moment because he wove into the fabric of his life but there are other things you should know as we celebrate Doug, and what he meant to us.

I would say that he was always there for us, because that is the way i feel, but here is where illusion and reality blur. Because of his work in sales, he traveled a lot as we were growing up and the one, who was really always there to tend our scrapes and dry our eyes and schlep us to school, was our mother, Marie. As children and adults, we are the sum of our parents and if he is the one who taught us how to live life to the fullest, she is the one who nurtured us and gave us responsibility and discipline and strength. He told me once that she was his safe harbor, that when he was in her arms, he knew everything would be all right with the world. And, because of her strength and grace and will, he always did come home.

And when he did, he would tell us bedtime stories – wonderful wild stories born out of his imagination and he would bring us gifts to make up for his being gone and they were often symbolic of the times – flower power stickers and peace medallions and other little knick knacks that dads pick up for their kids at airports. But it was the stories i remember the most and in the telling he instilled in us a love of literature.

He gave to us the gift of music too. Leslie, Doug and I all took piano lessons and he was a tough taskmaster. I remember him forcing us to practice for a half and hour everyday and to play every piece in our lessons five times and he would make us count out the numbers. Dad played saxophone in a dance band to work his way through school and every holiday or family gathering when we were younger, he would get out the saxophone and play. It was in playing saxophone that he celebrated his love of big band music and shared his passion for music with us.

He taught us about life – about what was happening in the world and how to make sense of it and for me, he instilled a love of politics and the desire to work the system to do good in the world. I remember him coming in from mowing the lawn and sitting down to watch the news – and trying to explain to me at 8 or 9 or 10 what a war was, where Vietnam was, why people were dying and why he was opposed to it. He didn’t believe in censorship and so if it was on the evening news; it was his obligation as a parent to explain it to us – something i try to do today with my own children – particularly in the times in which we are living. But i think it was a secret thrill for him later in life as i worked in politics both here in Wisconsin and in Washington that he could brag to his golfing buddies that his daughter was at the white house the other day as he would pass along some bit of gossip I had shared with him.

He was equally proud of my sister and brother. I remember when Douglas John was born – dad surprised my mom with a mink cape. He was so proud, so excited to have a son. And he couldn’t have been more proud of the man Douglas John has become, a man who, like dad, married a beautiful strong woman with the patience of a saint, my sister-in-law, Mary. And, a man who like dad did, works so hard to raise his family.

As for my sister, Leslie, he was unspeakably proud. She is everything a parent could ever hope for in a daughter, smart, talented, beautiful, strong, generous and kind. She and my father shared a love of mysteries and old movies and they traded books back and forth and had a bond that was unique and special. He also loved and admired and respected her husband David so much. Sometimes at their lake house in Delevan, he would come inside after talking with David and just marvel at his intellect and wit or at the bounty of his garden. And he was always so, so very grateful for Leslie and David’s generosity as they opened their home to be the family gathering spot in the summer and left it open for mom and dad to live there off and on after summer ended.

He loved my husband, john too and he would delight in listening to John and David banter like brothers as they discussed current events and history and politics and philosophy and business. Doug wouldn’t always participate in these discussions but just the fact that we were all there as a family and that we all got along so well as friends was a simple pleasure for him.

He wasn’t perfect – he used to say to us – the last perfect man was nailed to a tree – he was full of little sayings like that and perhaps because of his own shortcomings was tolerant of ours. He was there when our own human frailties in growing up were painfully obvious. Whether it was getting drunk for the first time, running away from home, getting caught doing something we were not supposed to do…he was there and meted out punishment that was tough but, in retrospect fair, and balanced. As all kids do, we tested his patience and his limits and his love and he forgave us all and made us stronger people for it.

But more than anything else he was a man who exuded an enthusiasm for life that was unmatched and unbridled. Whether it was on the golf course, at a party, a family gathering or an Iowa Hawkeye game, he put his heart into what he was doing and whom he was with. In the latter years of his life, he volunteered his time on behalf of the Iowa Hawkeye alumni and was recognized for his efforts on numerous occasions. The friendships he had with his fellow Hawkeye fans made him happy and they went to parties and football games and on cruises and laughed with him and joined in his cries of “hubba hubba go hawks.”

And even though his laughter faded a bit in the last few years as his health began to fail, he never gave up his passion and belief in life. In fact, I would say it was his final gift to his family. He so believed in being able to live a full life that he had a living will which stipulated that he didn’t want to live if he had to be on life support systems – for him, that wasn’t living and he refused to burden his family. In the final days, a friend of his was at the hospital with us and she told my mother and i about a conversation he had with her roughly a month before the stroke. He discussed not wanting to be a burden, of wanting to give up his life before he would allow his family to suffer. And isn’t the greatest act of love the ability to put your loved one’s needs before your own and to have the strength to let go? I would have to answer yes to that question and to tell you that it is a wondrous thing to have my father and my mother share that kind of love and strength.

No matter what your faith, no matter what you believe, I have to believe that somehow, in someway life goes on and I choose to think of Doug as the personification of life – a 65-degree day in November, a lily still blooming by the hospital roadside. I think – that the life force in him was so strong, that it can’t be suppressed and forever shutout. I believe he is in another life, in another form on another great adventure. I believe that once he cast off his fragile envelope of skin for the sake of his honor and his dignity and the love of his family, that he went to a great party somewhere, and he is having a drink, smoking a cigar and laughing and waiting for us, as he always was in life, to be there for us when our turn comes.

So as we gather today to celebrate your life, we want to thank you for your gifts, for your greatness, for your love of family and sacrifice. And as we continue with our lives, dad, know that we will miss you, that we will shed some tears but we will laugh too and we will remember and give thanks for your life. We love you.