Memorial Service Remarks by

CAPT Tracy D. Connors, USN

Tuesday, 21 September 1999

On behalf of our family, thank you all for joining us.

On behalf of our family, thank you all for joining us. We have come together this morning—family and friends—to celebrate—even if at times it is through tears, the life, and the ministry of Eva Haddock Connors.

The English scholar and author Frederick Farrar said “to live well in the quiet routine of life, to fill a little space because God wills it, to go on cheerfully with one’s duties and avocations; to smile for the joy of others when the heart is aching, who does this, his works will follow him. He is one of God’s heroes.”

You are going to hear a lot of stories and recollections over the next hour or so—about Eva Connors’ life, her warmth, her boundless love and devotion to her family, friends and church—and of her faith and what it meant to her. Collectively, they tell the story of how she lived well in the quiet routines of life. How she served her family and the families of others to the very best of her many abilities. How she filled a little space because God willed it…and filled it…and filled it…and filled it…with love…and patience…and humor…and generosity…and thoughtfulness…and that hard-to-define quality that our younger generation simply describes as “being there for you.”

You’ll hear how she did go cheerfully on with her duties and avocations…smiling for the joy of others when her own heart, on so many occasions, was aching.  And when we’ve laughed and remembered and cried…and laughed some more…you’ll know why her family and friends will remember her as one of God’s Heroes.

So, sit back, relax and “listen up” as we say in the Navy. Of course, Grandma would have extended this invitation so much better.

On that front porch at the corner of Melson and Broadway, sitting on that old glider swing with a full hamper of speckled butter beans by her side, she would size you up as a potential shelling partner. Spotting a likely grandchild flying by enroute to play in the camphor tree outside, she would sing out: “Hi honey, come sit next to me and let’s talk.”

You did talk, of course, about her girlhood, growing up in Kings Ferry, what it was like “in the old days.” You also helped her shell beans…lots of beans and peas and corn for the hungry mouths of loved ones to whom she fed literally thousands of wonderful meals for many decades.