To Anne and Kim, thank you for giving me the privilege of honoring your dad.

And to other family members and friends present here today, thank you for being here to honor Bill.

I want to start with a couple of stories – one from my youth and one from Bill’s Palo Alto days.

Bill of course loved stories. He loved hearing them, and he loved telling them. They were sometimes serious, sometimes about family, sometimes – well, sometimes they were corny.

Well, this is one he told on many occasions. Our two families – the Bromleys and the Beltons –spent a lot of time together, either in Virginia or up in Massachusetts. And at some point a plan was hatched that the three Belton boys would spend time at the Bromleys in Virginia. So Bill and Martha loaded us boys into the back seat of their car and drove us south toward Washington and Vienna.

Well, it was apparently quite the trip as Bill would tell it – a tale of ten hours in the car with three rambunctious little boys asking – about every ten minutes – Are We There Yet? And then us finally getting there and the second part of the story would come – how much we boys ate, and how much milk we could consume, of course all this compared to what he was used to with his petite daughters Anne and Kim. I don’t know if it was an exaggeration, but a gallon of milk at each meal was often part of the story! And if the milk consumption wasn’t mentioned, it was the pancakes – with us eating them faster than Aunt Martha could make them amidst shouts of More Pancakes! More!

How he loved that story!

The other story, from much later, when he and Martha lived in Palo Alto and our three girls were probably between 10 and 14. One or maybe both of our older girls were studying sign language and Bill thought it would be just hilarious to teach them the one sign he knew – for the word boring! This then became a regular staple at all future get togethers – the sign for boring would somehow get used between Bill and the girls.

Of course there are many many more – he loved stories and he loved to laugh. And he always seemed to be up for any crazy thing – which was good because Aunt Martha was just as gifted in the thinking-of-fun-things-to-do department!So this is a good word - a good word about a good man.

And, oh, what a pair they made! Whether becoming clowns or just clowning around, they danced their way through life so beautifully! As a young boy, how I loved it when the Bromley clan was nearby! One never knew what the agenda might be, but you did know it would be fun!

And then God gifted me again with their presence in my life when I was a young man with a young family and they moved to nearby Palo Alto! This was when I really became aware of Bill Bromley the man. He stepped in as a saintly gentle grandfather to our three young girls – listening to them, celebrating with them, going to recitals and plays, playfully fooling around with them, loving on them as only this man Bill Bromley could do – and he walked alongside me, too. The young dad trying my best to figure things out and to do the right thing – yes, even in the tragic death of our daughter Missy – he walked beside me, celebrating the successes, grieving our losses, always encouraging and loving, never critical, standing beside me and believing in me.

He became in many ways a centering, manly man for me, and it was only then as an adult that I could see some of the true measure of his greatness as a real man – not just the fun, football throwing guy, the man who celebrated his baldness, the man with the fabulous crooked broken little finger, the bigger than life uncle I had known as a boy – but a man who knew right from wrong, who knew how to love those around him, who knew how to use his strength for the good of others, that being mild mannered did not mean being weak, and that serving others was actually the best way to lead.

Remember, Bill was part of what has been called the Greatest Generation, and he certainly lived up to it. He was a great man. This was a generation of men and women – like Bill and Martha – that were raised through the depression era, saw a great need to defeat a great evil and sacrificially stepped up to do just that – not for personal gain but because it was the right thing to do, and then they came home and once again they did the right thing – they set about to raise the next generation, the best way they could.

To many, Bill was Colonel William Bromley, a distinguished career soldier who served his country well, part of Operation Overlord that invaded the Normandy beaches, recipient of the Bronze Star, part of the rebuilding group that stayed in Europe after VE day, and part of the US military command for over two decades following the war.

But to me and others like me, he was Uncle Bill. And oh how I loved it as a young boy when Uncle Bill would come visiting. How I loved the time I was able to steal away with him for a game of catch, or shooting hoops, or just playing around.

Here went a man that I came to respect and love more and more with the passing of each of the six decades that came and went between us.

You know, Bill and I talked several times about faith, and his was a quiet faith in God and the Bible and Jesus. I’m pretty sure he never pushed it on anyone, but it was there in his heart nevertheless. So I don’t feel badly in mentioning that Jesus Himself, in his Sermon on the Mount, gave us a picture of a man like Bill.

Jesus called that man blessed – a Biblical term for someone that is intrinsically joyful – satisfied – regardless of the circumstances. And in using it, Jesus is trying to paint a picture of a man that is living a life pleasing to God. Here are four of the qualities mentioned in these beatitudes – see if you agree with me that Bill has them all. Merciful, pure in heart, peacemaker, and meek - meaning humble or gentle. Bill was all of those things and more – he was classy, he was gracious, he was kind. And in the midst of all that – he was a hero and he had courage.

Someone once said, “The true worth of a man is to be measured by the objects he pursues,” and in that way Bill Bromley measures up quite well.

He pursued righteousness.

He pursued doing what was right even when it was not to his advantage.

He stepped up as a dad, and as a husband, and as an uncle, and as a friend, and as a leader in his community, and yes, even as a soldier.

He pursued grand things and he was a grand man. A good man.

Kim and Anne, your father was a good and noble man.

You know, our culture adores those that are famous, or rich, the powerful and the super athlete. But your dad proves something quite different, for he led a quiet life but one with great purpose. He found purpose wherever God planted him. Whether a soldier, or an engineer, or a dad, or a loving husband by Martha’s side in her clowning around years or as her last years passed, he found purpose, and he proved that true heroes are actually all around us.

And Anne and Kim, how he loved you. How he loved the title Dad. He and I, once I was a dad, used to joke around about the various names for dads – and he always came back around to his favorite, Dear Old Dad.

I’ll close with this verse from the Book of Proverbs: “The path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day.”

Bill has now entered the fullness of the day, enjoying heaven with all those that have gone home before.

As it says in the Book of Revelations, “God will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

His race has been run, he has finished well. Bill has heard the great clarion call, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”