Note: Here’s the eulogy that I gave for my dad when he passed in Sept 2020.
For those of you I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting, I’m Wes’s son Justin.
My dad loved stories.
He wanted to know your story. He wanted to know what made ya tick.
I remember when he worked in the Michigan legislature. We’d walk from his office to get coffee across the street from his office. What should’ve taken 10 minutes, took 45. He knew and talked to everyone.
Regardless of who you were and your professional affiliations, he cared about your story.
It is one of the honors of my life to take a few moments to share and celebrate my father’s story and how that points us back to our Father’s story.
I’ll be honest, though...
It's only slightly intimidating to write a speech about a man who, at one point, was a professional speechwriter.
As part of the Wes Thorp School of Communication, I learned that in a great speech, you say what you're going to say, you say it, then you say what you said.
So, ha! here we go...
On August 31, 1946, in Bay City, Michigan, Wesley Dale was born to Frieda and Claude Thorp.
At age two, my grandfather Claude walked out on my dad and Frieda.
Instead of trying to write something, let me read what my dad wrote on his blog.
In 2017, he wrote…
“He vanished. He left no messages. He never called. He never followed up in any way, shape or form. My mom was left with a 18-month old toddler, me and no way to support either of us.”
Later he went on to say…
“I was left with personal uncertainty about my ability to have a loving relationship with a wife and my ability to love kids.”