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In Memoriam
Bruce Richard Grossmann
September 9, 1952 — September 12, 2020
We’re gathered here today to celebrate the life of Bruce Grossmann.
Bruce lived a life of service.
He served the Lord,
he served his country in the military,
he served his community,
and he served his family.
He served so much, that we don’t know how he bent space and time to do it all. Though there’s evidence everywhere and his driveway is full of broken old vehicles that are all over three hundred thousand miles and and bald tires that were worn long past their abilities.
He brought happiness into each of our lives in some meaningful way that made us call him friend. (Of course if you considered him a foe, and you’re here because you’d like to settle a score, please see my brother after the service.)
Bruce always had an endless story available at a moment's notice.
He could tell stories the way most people would turn on the faucet. Why on this very spot, you could watch him enrapture the most disinterested passer-by into completely missing their tour bus to Fairbanks. Some people would hang out an extra couple hours just to see if the faucet would ever run dry, but it never did.
If he ever needed a moment to decide where to go next, he’d say “man… that’s just far out!”
And then he could make it even farther out.
Anyone who knows Bruce, knows that he could trip over a rock, then identify the rock and with a look around the valley, tell you the whole story of how that rock probably came into being, and how it got underfoot. Then he’d put that rock in his pocket for safekeeping.
That same affection for purpose was applied to plants, people, stars, creatures, and objects in general at any point in recorded history. Bruce never forgot a single detail or how that detail was connected to other details, and how those details added up to a big picture that had special meaning to you and I. And then he’d give you a small memento with that story attached to it to take home with you. He was the most Alaskan I ever met.
He didn’t just talk though, he listened to us all and by doing so, inherited our experiences so he could share them with others. Why, he was so knowledgeable that us kids didn’t need to go to school at all just from being around him. Our parents printed us up certificates right there at home and sent us off into the world to help, and learn from other people too.
We never saw him turn down a person in need, and growing up our home was at various times a half-way house, a hostel, and a foster home. He picked up every hitchhiker and made us kids ride in the trunk if needed. It seemed like the entire State of Alaska was “right on his way” when anyone needed anything.
Bruce served his country in the US Army for 15 years, first as a medic, then as a signals intelligence officer. He followed in the footsteps of his dad (Lieutenant Colonel) and his mom (Sergeant). His grandparents, Earl and Alice, were farmers and they all instilled in him the discipline to work hard when things needed to be done. He gave this nation his all until he was needed elsewhere.
When you mix being raised in a military family and being raised by farmers, you create a special kind of human that’s rare in this world. There’s only one place in the galaxy great enough to contain a man like that and it’s in Alaska. Here. With all of you.
That’s why he never left.
From all his hard work, he probably could have been a millionaire several times over, but he seemed to like to keep his bank account as close to zero as possible. Other people's needs were always more important, and he always considered himself fortunate to have a little extra to give, even if he really didn’t.
Dad was great at getting people out of bed at 3am to go quarter a road-killed moose on the side of the road at -45º and he knew exactly who in town needed the meat the most. He’d make sure they got it and then stay an extra moment to pray.
As a minister, he baptized every kid as though it was his own, married every couple knowing he’d answer their calls at Midnight, and led every funeral service with a tear in his eye as if he was burying his only son.
But through it all, he’d never stop smiling.
He could hold his ground and be stubborn in an argument, but he erred on the side of giving people the benefit of the doubt and had a hard time holding too much of a grudge. That even applied to mosquitos and I’m not sure how he wasn’t drained long ago while shoveling pay dirt shirtless on the mining claim.
As kids, we didn't always agree with his old fashioned ways, but in looking back, we can see clearly that he taught us to use reason and logic to challenge literally anything and everything in life, and even seemed to enjoy it when we used it against him.
Bruce’s story ended sooner than it should have. But as with all things Bruce, he managed to squeeze two or three lifetimes out of one, and he left nothing unfinished. It seems dad maybe gave a little too much attention to the rest of us, and not enough on his own needs, and eventually that did him in. But I don’t think he’d have done it any other way.
He goes to be with The Lord now, but we’re not done with him yet and I count on all of you to share the lessons he taught us and the joy he brought us far and wide. As we put other people first, we should remember that we can’t do a good job of that if we don’t stay healthy and take care of ourselves too.
Thank you for coming today!
✝
See also
Bruce’s Obituary
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