My dad, Keith Albert More, passed way on December 7th, 2009. This past week I’ve said more than once that dieing is part of living but that doesn’t make it any easier. His obituary is here.

The eulogy I gave on Friday is below. This covers more than Scouting but it helps, I believe, to give a flavor to his background. He’ll certainly be missed.

Dad came to Michigan to work on his PhD. His research involved proving what at the time was a recent theory by Watson and Crick that DNA was a double-helix. While sorting fruit-flies by the color of their eyes during the day he seemed to have developed a certain social reputation on campus at night. He set that aside as life intervened, my mom’s and then me, that lead to his being one of the first dozen or so members of the new Bendix Aerospace Systems Division here in Ann Arbor. He seemed to really enjoy nuclear physics and was attracted to it. The Division eventually grew to employing over 1,000 people.

It was a little different growing up in a home where your dad couldn’t talk about his work because it was classified. During most of his career he carried “top secret” clearance or higher. When he could talk about his work it was about mass spectrometers, forward looking infrared radar or the use of inverse Fourier transforms in interferometry. Not light stuff.

His work did provide us with some interesting experiences such as directly witnessing the Apollo 11 launch. Somewhere in dad’s stuff he was presented with one of the Pioneer Plaques designed by Carl Sagan for dad’s work on the Pioneer 10 spacecraft the first man-made item designed to leave our solar system. My brothers and I are proud to have a dad who designed an experiment placed on the moon.

Dad was a do-er. My brothers and I learned construction at dad’s side as he built our house. Whether it was facing the sandstone that reminded him of his Kansas home, pouring concrete, laying brick or planting hundreds of seedling pines obtained from the DNR. Often to the classical music of WJR’s Karl Haas Adventures in Good Music. As a side note, the first and only time dad spanked me was when I was 5. He came home and found me pushing his classical records across our cement floor. I don’t remember the spanking but I never pushed another record across the floor and I still enjoy classical music.

As he was building our home US-23 was being developed. The construction crew cleared a stand of walnut trees. Dad wanted to use some for stairs in the house. The crew would only sell him all of the trees. Since it was only $100 he took them all. Even though we had solid walnut stairs and landings, solid walnut book shelves, and did the library in solid walnut planks there was still walnut lumber left over when he sold the house 22 years later.

Tod remembers the story of the electrical inspector telling dad that dad’s grounding of every outlet was a waste of wire. It wasn’t. Dad was just 20 years ahead of the inspector and what is standard today. My dad did not back off of tasks even if they were big or hard so long as they were right.

Dad had a passion for sailing. We’re not sure how he got the passion in Kansas but he did. While in high school he built his first boat with a friend in the family’s stone barn. It went well until they realized it wouldn’t fit through the door. Somehow they did get it out and took it to Wichita to sail. When he came to Michigan he got a sailboat. He had to turn over his boat after I came along but he did design our in-ground garage to be large enough to be able to build a 44-foot boat and get it out.

My brothers and I remember his involvement in Scouting. Actually I got involved in Scouting through my friend Bruce. It wasn’t something my dad pushed on us. I found out he was an Eagle Scout long after I had joined. Jeff pointed out one of the special things about our dad was the time he would give to take us on camp-outs and trips. Scouts require at least two-deep adult leadership on outings but often it was hard to find enough dads to be able to take us on campouts. I remember my dad in his early 40’s ‘recruited’ my Uncle Tom and the two of them took the older Scouts of the troop on an 80 mile, week-long backpacking trip along the Appalachian Trail in the Smoky Mountains.

The next year the Scouts decided we wanted to do a week-long canoe trek along the Au Sable river. Rather than rent or buy canoes, dad researched how to make our own canoes. He located canoe plans from the Michigan Canoe Racing Association. He cut the templates of the optimized, hydrodynamic design. To make these canoes meant ripping hundreds of 20 foot strips of ¼” inch redwood that we then glued together. Somewhere in the Ann Arbor News archives is a picture of Bruce and me in our uniforms explaining to visitors at a Scout-o-rama how we made these canoes. People were fascinated and didn’t know that you could make your own canoes.

Dad instilled in us a sense of exploration. We traveled to most of the fifty states whether for work or pleasure. He developed in us an appreciation of wine with most dinners. I remember going with him to Dr. Meadow’s garage and the Vins de France group that would direct import wine for the club in order to save some money on great wine.

Basically as soon as Jeff and I could handle cards we were ‘recruited’ to be a foursome for bridge with my mom and dad. Often at family gatherings it was ‘Hi. How are you? Where are the cards?”

While talking with my aunts and uncles in the past few days I found out things about my dad I never knew. My aunt told me that after dad took the Naval Reserve exam my grandmother got a call from Washington. They told her that Dad had gotten the highest score ever and they were interested in what he was going to study in college.

He loved two women in his life. My mom who died at what I now realize is the incredibly young age of 52 and Flora. He told me that after having a great relationship with my mom he sought another and found it with Flora. Blending families sometimes isn’t easy but we did. I am thankful for the love and happiness that Flora brought to him these past twenty years.

Dad was a simple man and a complex man.

He was a child of the depression who taught his sons the value of thrift.

He was a modest man of the mind who loved life and a good apple pie. Actually any apple pie. And I recently found out his brother George’s humus and sister Mary’s pita chips.

He infected my brothers and me with optimism.

Today there is another angel in heaven. Hoist the sail. Open the wine and get out the cards.