Roger Stephan Golemb

Roger Golemb is my father, and I am his only son. The photo is of him saluting the American flag during a Desert Storm parade when I was serving in the Gulf. It is the most iconic photo we have of him taken by a newspaper photographer. Roger lived to the ripe old age of 82, and frankly, his family and I are shocked he was able to survive this long. He had three major life-threatening accidents at his home, one in the mid-80s, one mid-90s, and one around 2010, and three medical procedures he recovered from. Roger was by far the toughest person I have ever met. How tough was he? He cracked walnuts with his bare hands with ease, pulled open apples with his thumbs. I worked out in college, and never beat him in arm wrestling. He survived a car accident in his 20s that hurt him his entire life. In his late 40s, he’d cut, bail, and stack 20 acres of hay by himself without a kick baler. He’d drop it on the ground, put the tractor in low gear, jump off, grab and stack hay on the wagon, then jump back on the tractor and steer it towards another group of bales. Then take it home and stack it in the barn, all in sweltering July/August. In his late 70s, he would climb on the roof of his barn to nail down sheet metal that came loose during a storm. He had a quarter of his nose removed and repaired due to skin cancer, and he laughed it off. Even in his 80s he fixed and maintained three properties mostly by himself. He never slowed down. It’s finally time to rest father, the day has come. We’ve been holding our breath for 35 years waiting for some tragedy to claim you, and now we all can finally rest as well knowing the outcome has arrived. Roger died peacefully in his warm bed, in his peaceful quiet country home, with all the birds singing in the sky, and we couldn’t ask for a gentler way to leave this Earth. Goodbye father, I love you, thanks for everything, I’ll be Ok, Love Daniel

Wishing that the happy memories make you smile in the midst of tears. We are praying for peace for all the loved ones he left behind.

I have much appreciation for the Golembs and their assistance in starting our veterinary service in the Oregon area so many years ago.

ODE TO ROGER GOLEMB 1938-2021 He wakes up early in the dark and dank Dirty dishes does he clank He wakes the sleepers from their beds And directs them to get to work instead Up at dawn he scrubs the floors “Get to work, its late!” he roars He wires, hammers and fixes leakers Work is done in all black sneakers He works on roofs though he has fell The ambulance driver has his cell He loves his dogs more than his life And delegates dog care to his wife Dogs go out, not in the kitchen! It's pee-soaked socks or stop your bitch’n! “Stop your barking, you damn hounds! Or I will send you to the pounds!” It's Father's Day, celebrate with Sandra Why don't you say something to the camera? With old age he got diabetes Now he has to watch his sweeties “Eat your veggies!” he would scream But now he sneaks cookies and cream He hates the spinach, beans and rices And craves some cheesecake in generous slices He demands perfection from himself And supremely manages all his wealth He loves to buy at bargain prices Auctions have the best entices “You need medicine, not this concoction!” “Don't worry,” he says, “it's from the auction…” Save some pennies, gets a scar Just to fix his own damn car “This job is too hard; we need a whole crew!” “We don't need seven, we got me and you!” “It's 30 below, I hate this assignment!” “Just hold the flashlight while I do this alignment…” “My body is freezing; I want to run!” “We will work through the night to get this job done…” “We shouldn't do this; we need the right tool!” “Just help me balance on this rickety stool…” Joseph Golemb owns his heart This has been true since Joey’s start Joe knows he is his grandpa’s pride That’s why he begs him for a ride Joseph Golemb can do no wrong He seduces his grandpa with a trumpet song He loves to watch FOX in very loud tones He turns it up the volume to drown out the moans He goes to Florida, to refresh and think Then it's home-again, home-again jiggidy-jig Through the day he does his chores And through the night, we hear his snores We joke and smile and laugh and tease But he's the toughest S.O.B. you ever did see

Dear Aunt Sandy , I’m so very sorry to hear of Uncle Rogers passing . My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family during this very difficult time . Love Paula ( Ralph’s daughter )

From your daughter Lisa, read at your funeral by your granddaughter Rebecca: Dear Dad, Where do I begin? You are gone. I know that in my head, but as I walk through your house, I am still expecting to see you at the kitchen table or waiting on the sofa for me to join you for a chat. I even walked out to your car, remembering our visit at the end of July--the last time I saw you, helping you get in and out of your car. I walked into your bathroom to remember where you got ready in the morning, took note of the soap you used (Dial), your shaving cream, and even sprayed your cologne on my wrist so I could remember…desperately hanging onto my memory of you. As I am sorting through a lifetime of photos, remembering you, remembering where we were and what you might have been thinking and maybe something you said at the time, I wish I could remember more. I wish I would have had more time with you, one more phone conversation, one more visit… I remember you coming home from work, a full 8 hour day, and working on the farm, mowing the lawn, fixing fence, working in the garden or whatever other job needed to be done. You were the hardest worker I have ever met in my life. You had no problem fixing dinner, doing laundry or feeding babies and changing diapers. I remember I was your sidekick on the farm. Someone had to help dig post holes, hold boards, help put siding on the house and re-roofing it. I remember you wanting company driving into town to grocery shop or to the lumberyard, so I would go. I remember the time we went sledding, went into town for an ice cream and picnicked at Governor Dodge. I remember you coming to all my track meets. I remember you meeting me on campus for lunch when I was a student at the UW. I remember calling you in times of crisis, when I was diagnosed with skin cancer, when I got in a car accident (while I was waiting for the police to show up), when Charlie had a school crisis. I needed you. I remember when you moved to Colorado and how happy I was you were close by. I know it was not your dream. It was mine. The shared birthdays, holidays, lunches and simple outings made me feel full & complete. I even enjoyed fixing fence ‘cause I knew you would be there. You even supervised from the truck or walked the fence with your cane. You were still teaching me… I know you had sadness—your mother died when you were the age of 7. How incredibly hard that must have been for you and how much you missed her until the day you died. I know you struggled with health issues for most of your life. Even with all of it, you never gave up on trying to eat right, taking vitamins, researching natural remedies. I know there was pain in some relationships for you. You desperately wanted unity. You will always live on in me, not only with certain common physical features, but in my character. You taught me self reliance, perseverance, integrity, independence, gratitude, work ethic, patriotism & loyalty. You taught me to never give up on a task—keeping at it until you figure it out. It was not an option to quit. You taught me I could do everything the boys could. No excuses. You taught me hard work is a blessing. Hard work conquers talent. You taught me to do what is right even if you don’t want to. You taught me to question everything. You taught me to be grateful for everything. I had a home, food, health and a family. You taught me to love this country. It provided your dad, a polish immigrant, a hope and a future that everyone in our family has benefited from. Thank you for being a great Dad. Making me who I am today. What you gave me I hope I have given my children. You will live on in generation after generation. I will rejoice in our reunion one day.