I had wanted to read this eulogy for Roy at his memorial but I wasn’t sure I could make it through without crying.
Roy was one of my best friends. I came to know Roy when I was hired as an assistant professor at IU. In the early 90’s, he was preparing to go to Germany for the summer. He told me the worst part was not hearing from home on a daily basis. He said that when he was in Vietnam getting letters from home was the best part of his day. So I told him there was the thing called ‘email’ that allowed you to communicate over the internet (this was before the Web was invented). I told him he could access it in Germany and I would email him every day with news from home. That started a daily correspondence that lasted until his death. Every day I would wake up and there was an email from Roy, no matter where he was in the world.
Roy and I also traveled together a lot. We went to Germany and Ukraine many times, as well as Switzerland and France. On my first trip to Paris, Roy took me to Notre Dame and then for a beer at a café nearby overlooking the cathedral at sunset. He looked at me and said “This is what life is about.” We had our favorite Turkish place in Bonn that we would always go to. In Kiev, every day we would go to a pizza place called Chelantano’s and split a pizza (the students always laughed at us for doing so). He helped give me the zest for travel that I have never lost.
Roy had his quirky mannerisms…clipping his toenails on his desk and spitting into the garbage can while he talked to you…talking to himself while he read…grunting while he ate and eating every scrap of food at mealtime.
He was always there to help those in need and many of us needed that help at some point in our lives. He was a force behind my career and I always owed him a big debt for helping me get tenure when the outcome was in doubt.
When the day comes for me to leave this earth, I believe God will let me know by having Roy send me an email telling me he has ordered a pizza and to come on up.
I will see you again someday buddy.
Roy J. Gardner Eulogy, Delivered on 1/29/11
By Sara A. Gardner
If life is a game, then there is only one known outcome… and unfortunately for all of us, that is death. Roy exited quietly and peacefully in his sleep. You might ask yourself how “Roy” and “quiet” can be used in the same sentence, but the key word here is “sleep”, for it was one of the only times in his life when he was quiet (if you don’t count the snoring).
To better understand Roy I’d like to give you a brief, but colorful family history lesson of some notable ancestors.
1. On his father’s side, his Grandpa Roy Gardner, was a star attraction in the Ripley’s Odditorium at the 1934 world’s fair in Chicago. He was an 8 piece, one-man-orchestra (not band, orchestra!) who used both hands, both feet, and his head to play over 80 pipes and strings in his set.
2. On his Mother’s side, sometime prior to 1666, it is said that his great x7 grandfather, John Muse was a convicted horse thief in England and was given the option of hanging or new world. He chose the new world and settled in Westmoreland County, VA. It is also said that John Muses’ granddaughter Betsy Fauntleyroy Muse rejected George Washington’s advances not once, but twice. He also had 14 grandsons and 1 great-grandson who served in the American Revolution, somewhat redeeming the family name.
1. His great-great Uncle was George Engle who was an anarchist and labor union activist who was scapegoated and later publically hung for the Haymarket riots in Chicago.
4. While his grandfather Anton Firtik was a brainiac and became a doctor at age 19.
In summary, Roy was the product of colonial America + a socialist scapegoat + a child doctor + a creative and multi-talented side-show musician. These colorful relatives make up the gene pool that made Roy what I like to call “ROYSTEROUS.”
Growing up, I never thought it was strange that I was the only kid in my 1st grade class who knew how to play poker. Instead of playing games like “Candy Land,” Roy encouraged us to play board games like “Class Struggle” where the workers would duke it out with the capitalists, but as is true to life, the game is biased towards the capitalists’ winning.
He was a devoted father, and came to every game, concert, and event that my brother and I had. He instilled a quest for fun and knowledge in us, often times combining them both. He would wake us up in the middle of the night to look at the stars through his telescope. He took us on countless “nature hikes,” to discover plants, animals, and rock formations. He took us to opera’s, wrestling meets, and Cubs/White Sox games. And if we were anywhere near a museum, a historical marker, or anything deemed “interesting,” he took us there to check it out. He would play just about any game with us … cards, board games, baseball, hockey, cycling. You name it, and Roy with his boundless energy was up for it. He was brilliant, accessible, and engaging on every level … from discussing Mad magazine, to the Financial Times, Roy would go there with enthusiasm.
I remember asking him when I was 11, “Dad, if you’re an economist and you’re so smart, then when aren’t we rich?” He laughed and replied “Well, that’s a very good question!” And he left it at that. But the real answer is because he was not interested in fame or money. One of his favorite quotes was from Mrs. Marx saying to Karl Marx: “stop writing about money and start making some!” He was generous with his time, his energy, and his thoughts. This was true for his family, friends, colleagues, and students.
Roy retired 9 days before his ultimate retirement. I remember after Professor Ostrom won the Nobel Prize, Roy casually mentioned to me that he had co-authored with 4 Nobel Prize winners. I had no idea, and since he was not one to brag, I teasingly replied, “always the bridesmaid, never the bride … are you going to do something about that when you retire?” He got that impish grin on his face, laughed and said “Umm yeah, I guess that is something I could work on.”
There are a few things I’d like to thank Roy for passing along to me: a zest for learning; the training to think critically and logically; the blue Gardner eyes; his non-judgmental approach to life; his unassuming and approachable nature; and last but not least for gifting me with 50% of his DNA. When they were handing out brains, Roy was dealt a royal flush … and I thank both him and my mother for dealing me at least a full house. I never realized just how smart Roy was until much later in life. Roy seemed to have an encyclopedic knowledge of just about everything. It was like we got to grow up with the Internet before the Internet, with Roy acting as our human search engine. For all of these things, I cannot thank him enough.
If you met Roy, then most likely you won’t ever forget that you met Roy since he was probably being his ROYSTEROUS self when you met him. His personality and intellect were larger than life and his disobedience of social norms was notable. He told me about a talk he had given in Italy, where afterwards he overheard 2 Italians say, “that was a brilliant talk, but did you see his shoes?” He then fessed up that he had worn black sneakers and thought that this would be OK since they matched his suit. My outfit today is a tribute to this side of Roy.
Roy was one of a kind. He was remarkable and unforgettable. He was my #1 fan, and I am going to miss him terribly.
Roy J. Gardner Eulogy, Delivered on 1/29/2011
By James C. Gardner
Many of you here today knew Roy as a colleague, a professor, an advocate, or a coworker. I knew him simply as Dad. That said, it dawned on me pretty early that Dad did things and knew things beyond what I will ever be capable of understanding. While he did indeed have a knack for explaining abstract concepts to people, it was clear to me that the way he understood the world was very different from the way I did.
It is nearly impossible to convey into words the sadness with which I speak of my Dad in the past tense. I find myself reminiscing about so many times we joyously shared, and I hope you have done the same. You may have learned with him or from him. You maybe even, when struggling with some idea, thought to yourself, “Well, I’ll just ask Roy”. I was lucky enough to have done that my whole life.
Dad was imaginative, passionate, and curious. His curiosity and imagination led him to teach himself languages, philosophy, and some pretty esoteric aspects of economics! His willingness to show curiosity towards the world led him around it--from Berkley to Moscow, from Kiev to Chicago, from Seattle to Prague, and from Kyoto to Stockholm, from frogs to lobstermen, from planned economies to pricing, from card games to war games. His was a well-worn passport. If there is something to take away from his sudden passing, let it be this: Dad was passionate for knowledge, and offered proof that pursuing one's curiosity is a gateway to fulfillment, excitement, and the energy we can draw from world around us. Embrace your curiosity. Please pass on your passion for it to others, so that they may also go where you have been and beyond. Encourage those you know who have questions to seek answers, to find solutions, to make real what is abstract. Dad would have been very curious to see the results.
Dad, I love you, I miss you, and I thank you for everything.