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SpiritFaithMyStory
Remembering my son
John Patrick Eberth
 September 14, 1965 - January 28, 1997  
In the movie, An American Tail, was a most
endearing and touching song, "Somewhere
Out There". That's John. Then, and now.
From the moment he was born, he was in
perpetual motion. And, his loving spirit still
touches my life. School was not his forte, but
he did find his niche in life. He studied
heating and air conditioning, loved it, and
made it his career. John, marching to a
different drummer, always kept life
interesting, never a dull moment. He was
one of my three children who was a
challenge to me, and I always felt
protective of him, for whatever reason.
Growing up, John was a shy kinda guy, not
exactly sure how to fit in. I called him my
Sunshine Boy. Combined with his white
blonde hair, he had a smile that lit up my
entire universe. He also had a stubborn
streak from here to Jupiter! I think he knew
that his life here was to be limited, and
that's why he crammed as much as he
could into his thirty-one years.
John loved anything chocolate,
pistachio nuts, red licorice, and
cuddly stuffed animals.
One of his favorite songs was
"Sail Away" by Styx
Burned into my consciousness forevermore will be the day, Tuesday, January 28, 1997, 6:45 PM. My dear sweet daughter, Terri and her fiance, Matt, had unexpectedly appeared at our front door, both looking rather grim. As she stepped forward to me sitting on the couch, she looked so uncertain. Taking my hands as she knelt before me, she said she had something to tell me. I remember the words she said. I remember the pain being so unbearable, so deep, my mind would not accept it. It just hurt too much for it to be true. Numbness set in yet all the time, the crying. Never have I felt such an incredible range of emotions simultaneously. And soon to discover, all perfectly normal during the grieving process.
This was John.
Proud to be in the Army.
Gentle & loving.
Strong as a bear.
With a voracious appetite!
I wanted to be angry with someone, something. But, it was not to be. The truth
be told, it was simply an accident. John had been driving home from one of his work assignments in Cleveland, to visit us - a surprise visit. God bless him, he always did that when he was in the area. His rental car, since he had been flown there, a red Grand Am, hit a snowdrift in the road, spun out of control, and a full-sized van broadsided him, killing him instantly.
I was so grateful for that. I wouldn't have wanted him to suffer.
And, you know what? I KNOW that John was not alone out in the farm country that night. God sent an angel to him to escort him Home.
John was a wonderful father and son. Not perfect, mind you. I refuse to sanctify his memory. John had his faults as we all do, but he was a good man. He worked hard and he played hard. Jessie, then seven years old, still misses the special way her Daddy played with her and her younger brother, Jason then two years old. She says, "Nobody knows how to play like Daddy did."
Kid at heart, John definitely knew how to play. He loved nothing more than to lie on the floor and play with his two children.
John served in the Persian Gulf War in 1991. He was medically evacuated back to Germany after a land mine went off under his jeep. Fully recovered from that, yet he continued to suffer from health problems known as the Gulf War Syndrome. He was so proud to serve in the United States Army. And, we are so proud of him!
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