We were able to celebrate my dad’s life last Friday, surrounded by family and friends, and with an outpouring of support from our community. My siblings and I, and all 13 grandchildren were dressed in finer attire than we were for Mom’s Celebration of Life in January: a testament to the difference between Mom and Dad. A difference, among many differences, that served them well for 55 years. 55 years of marriage, 4 children, 13 grandchildren, 2 great grandchildren, 40 years in business, and 83 days separating their deaths.
I was honored to kick off eulogizing Dad, followed by my sister, cousin, and nephew. Beautiful memories were shared, all with a common theme: Reed Haeger was a story teller, cowboy at heart, gentleman to his core, and loved by many. A huge thanks to Wendy and to Brian of Schmitz Funeral Home, for organizing and capturing the celebration:
If ever there was a storyteller, our dad was one. He had a knack for storytelling, both with a pen and with the spoken word. Dad’s embellishments were obvious at times, and well hidden at others. To listen to Dad was a treat: his facial expressions, raised eyebrows, voice intonations, and huge smiles at his listeners’ reactions were priceless.
He was a hell of a eulogy giver, as well. It’s so unfortunate, in more ways than one, that Reed Haeger is not standing behind this pulpit right now. We’ll take a stab at it, but we know we can’t get the job done like you would have, Dad.
Reed Haeger was born to Ross and Mary Haeger in Oak Park, Illinois, the first of 5 children. He was blessed with a childhood spent in a beautiful home in Oak Park, where he told tales of riding his bike, trying his hand at piano lessons (not a long-lasting venture), and being a big brother to Beth, Jane, Anne, and Mark. He spent summers at his grandparents home outside of Rhinelander, Wisconsin at Haeger’s Lodge on Lake Thompson. I believe it was here that Dad developed his love for fishing and for the outdoors. He once penned a memory that began, “A part of me knows how to bait a hook…”
One story, among many others, was a favorite of Dad’s to tell of his time in Rhinelander. It involved helping his grandma push a large laundry cart, filled with the lodge’s guests’ bedding, up a hill to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. His grandma started laughing and said, “We’re just like the 2 donkeys,” (whose names have slipped my mind, despite the number of times I’ve heard this story!). When Dad returned to Oak Park at the end of that summer, he found 2 donkey statues in the 5-and-dime store, and sent them to his grandma for Christmas. He couldn’t tell that story without a gleam in his eye, laughter, and tears at the memory.
After Dad graduated from Fenwick Catholic High School, he spent a summer on the Whitetail Ranch outside of Missoula, Montana. This trip came as a recommendation from one of his dad’s patients, and made such an impact on Dad that sealed his deep-seated connection to cowboy life. This was evidenced in his cowboy boots, once-upon-a-time cowboy hats, treasured Charlie Russell painting that adorned the walls of Mom and Dad’s homes, including his apartment at Birkwood. He gained an appreciation for sleeping under the stars, and was known to fall asleep on a horse a time or two.
On that ranch, owner Tom Edwards led hunting excursions, which Dad was often privy to. Dad learned the value of wearing a felt cowboy hat for collecting rain water to quench the thirst of both cowboy and horse. He enjoyed his first sips of whiskey with two other ranch hands, who set him up to buy whiskey in town while running an errand for Tom’s wife. He told the story the same way every time: “I got back to the ranch, after having purchased the whiskey at age 17 (but I looked older because I was all decked out in cowboy gear), and was greeted by the two other ranch hands asking, ‘Did you get it? Did you get it?’ We stole away into the bunkhouse, passed the whiskey bottle around until it was gone, when one of the other ranch hands promptly threw the bottle out the window. They then said, ‘Reed, you lay down. We’ll take care of the chores tonight.’” Dad giggled everytime he told it.
Dad spent four years at St. Ambrose, where he initially thought he would take courses to become a veterinarian. It didn’t take long for him to change direction; he traveled down the path of becoming an educator. He became friends with several people from the West Point area, where he began… and ended… his 9-year teaching career. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
As fate would have it, Dad met Sue, a student at Marycrest, at the Tip Topper bar in Davenport. She admired a poem he had written on a napkin, and the rest is history, as they say. Mom and Dad were married in Lewistown, Montana on August 10, 1968.
If my timeline is correct, this is the same summer, when earlier, Dad spent three months traveling across Europe with two other friends – a gift from his father. At the end of this trip, which provided fodder for many of Dad’s stories, Dad received word that Adrian Brink, Marquette school board president, had called and was offering him a position to teach high school English. Dad accepted the position, dabbling in coaching and securing friendships with folks like Dan Kieler, Paul Walker, and Wendell Hannum. Oh, and he might have been known to throw an eraser or two in his classroom…
Raising four children on a private school teacher’s salary was not easy. As a result, Dad took on many other jobs, including roofing and painting. At some point, he managed the West Point Knights of Columbus and the Green Acres Golf Club in Donnellson. After a time, Mom and Dad began running Reed’s Pizza, a short-lived gig that resulted in lifetime friendships and a taste for running a business.
In 1983, they purchased the Corner Tap, a business that they successfully ran for 40 years. It was Mom’s life blood and Dad’s nemesis at times, as he could rarely talk Mom into leaving for a weekend trip. However, it was at the Corner Tap that all were accepted, many found refuge, a few were kicked out 🙂 and all had many, many good times. Good times. Good spirits. Good, good friends.
It was at the Corner Tap that many were witness to Dad’s daily trip around the bar to give Mom a kiss after returning from a day of work at the Ammunition Plant. It was here that the four Haeger children were treated to pop and candy, and the most important of life’s lessons: Treat all people as you would want to be treated… and perhaps even better than that.
Dad eventually convinced Mom to leave the care of the tavern to trusted employees, and she and Dad enjoyed lots of travel in their 55 years together. There were fishing trips to Mark Twain Lake, Coralville Lake, and Lake Seguma. There were many, many trips to Chicagoland to visit Dad’s family, and to Montana to visit Mom’s family. There were trips to each coast, and to Gulf Shores Alabama. We were treated to loads of pictures, texts, and updates with each of these trips.
Dad had many loves in his life, including reading, gardening (for a short time), fishing, storytelling, and golf. It was very common to see Dad with a book in his hands… and later a phone in his hands; he absolutely devoured books and had such an appreciation for the written word. When it comes to golf, one might say Dad had a love-hate relationship with the game. If you ever played a round or two with him (I did not), you know exactly what I’m talking about. The closest I came to playing golf with Dad was watching him hit balls outside my kitchen window – he loved using our yard for practice!
In the last several months, I enjoyed weekly “date nights” with Dad. Those nights were a treasure, and came with many repeats of the stories I just shared. My regret will always be that we didn’t begin Date Night sooner.
Mom and Dad were married for 55 years, and remain the model for what marriage should be. Their children and grandchildren know what it is to nurture healthy relationships, as they had the perfect role models. Their grandsons know what it means to love and treat women with respect because Dad demonstrated it, always.
Isaac, Rachel, Sarah, Aaron, Nathan, Danny, Jack, Claire, Elton, Owen, Emmett, Liam, Gordon, Quincy, Calvin… and Little Papoose – Grandpa loved each and every one of you. But I don’t need to tell you that. You know.
Dad’s greatest love was undoubtedly Susan Hanley Haeger. In the words of Jerry Hanley, who dubbed Mom and Dad inseparable: “Well, it certainly didn’t take long for these two to get back together again!” Your earthly story ends here, Dad. Your legacy will live forever.