Tribute to Dad
John Robert Paschall
May 1, 1920 – May 22, 2010

 Saturday, May 22, 2010 was a day of emotional downburst clouds and brilliant rainbows, clouds because of your passing from our sight, but rainbows as we envision you walking the golden streets of Heaven with Jesus our Lord and Savior.  But your journey to your final mansion began 90 years ago this past May 1 when you were born into the loving family of Arthur and Annie Paschall. You were one of fifteen children and are the final one from that generation to enter Glory. What a grand reunion must be going on right now!
 I know granddaddy and grandma, and the whole Paschall clan, helped mold you into the daddy you have been for me, and I thank God for allowing me to be born into such a loving, strongly committed, Christian family. From this foundation of family-first above everything else base, spring my most vivid and loving memories of events and life principle’s you instilled in me.
 My earliest remembrance of you takes place when I was about four years old. You know how the yard was raised from the street with a steep slope – there were several times when the lawnmower almost got away from you there – and there were three steps at the apex of the incline down to street level. I looked so forward to seeing you get home form work that I would go sit on the top step and watch for your car to come into sight down the street. You would always stop at the foot of the driveway, open the car door, and let me jump into your lap to “drive” up the driveway. Daddy was home!
 I remember how it was you who helped me learn to walk again at age 5 after an almost death-causing case of rheumatic fever racked every fiber of my being and left my muscles too weak to support my body. You would gently carry me to the bathroom. You were the best physical therapist I could have had. Your strong arms held me up and your words of encouragement to move my legs in stepping motions taught me that I could accomplish a difficult task and you would be there for me, to guide me and support me.

 I remember the evenings after dinner when I was little and you would get down on the floor and crawl around with me on your back, going for a “horsey ride,” with me all dressed up in my cowgirl costume. As I grew older, I remember the multitudes of times you and I were out 
side, with you pitching balls to me, and my missing most of them. Then years later, I remember your pride and bragging when your grandson and then great-grandsons played little league – how proud you were at their just effort, and how exuberant you were when they hit a home run or caught a fly ball. I remember the hours you spent teaching me how to ride a bicycle – you never let me fall, not even once. These bicycle rides were my first steps towards independence, and you were the one providing them. I also remember the fun spring and summer evenings after dinner when the family would go to the back yard and play badminton. For you, that was quite an experience. as you had the most meticulously kept yard in Commodore Park. But for family fun, you were willing to let the yard – at least the back yard, not seen from the street – get messed up with huge hard barren spots. 
 I remember the life-long lessons you taught me by your example and word. By example you taught me that family was everything and nothing less than unconditional acceptance and support was tolerable, no matter what challenges an individual family member or circumstance may present. Your life exemplified and modeled true, totally unconditional love for family.
 By your words and examples, you taught me that anything worth doing at all, was worth doing right, right on down to the smallest underlying details. You taught me that it’s the underlying details that give things their real stability and enduring ability – their true quality. Hardly a day goes by that I don’t hear your voice reminding me, “if it’s worth doing at all, it’s worth doing right.” 
 I remember when we started going to church when I was in Junior High School, at the encouragement of my first boyfriend. Both you and mom had been raise to believe in God and that Jesus was His Son. When we attended First View Baptist in Ocean View, it didn’t take long for us to understand God’s plan of salvation and all three of us made our professions of faith one Sunday evening in July, 1964. From that point on, for several years, we served in ministry together. Over time, I began to branch out in ministry on my own within our local church, while 

mom’s health challenges increased and lessened yours and hers ability to physically minister, or even attend church for that matter. I was moving one more very small step closer to adulthood independence.
 While it was Mom who wanted to hold me in close forever and protect me, it was you who were willing to let me go, to grow, to become independent, to achieve whatever I wanted. I vividly remember the afternoon that you really solidified that realization in my life. I was a 
senior in high school, applying to colleges. Mom was so determined I would go to college here in Norfolk and live at home, so determined, in fact, that she said my college education would not be paid for if I left home. I really, really wanted to go to Carson Newman College and start on a path that would lead to full time Christian service. You and I talked, out in the front yard one sunny afternoon. You told me then, that if I chose to go to Carson Newman over Mom’s objections, you would not only pay the tuition, but also the dorm fees, and all other costs. You gave me the freedom to choose, a freedom that would also give me the freedom to become independent, to soar on my own. While I chose to do things Mom’s way, I have never forgotten your support, your trust in me, your willingness to let me grow up and become my own person. Thank you.
 I remember my wedding day, when it was time for you to walk me down the aisle. You were torn between knowing God had given me a good, no, great, man, and your very fatherly feelings that no man would ever be good enough for your little girl. You had those same feelings some twenty-something years later regarding you granddaughter, Jeannie, and I know you would have those same feelings regarding your two great-granddaughters, Alena and Isabelle. Yet you let go of me, because you knew it was right. You were always there when I needed you, but you allowed me to live my own life, to fly my own course, guided by and based on the strong foundation you had set.
I remember your unspoken but strong love and pride in becoming a grandfather, and years later a great- grandfather. You never went on a trip to North Carolina without making sure you had current pictures of all the grandkids and great grandkids, especially pictures showing their accomplishments. That’s because family was the most important thing in your life. 


I remember that January 16, 2000 Sunday evening of my being ordained to the Gospel Ministry, when you, as a ordained deacon, and as my father, came forward to lay hands on me, and, with broken emotion whispered in my ear how proud you were and also, if mom could have lived another six months to se this, how proud she would be.
I remember your times spent with Paul and later with Christian, teaching them how to hunt. But I know the most important parts of those hunting adventures were the hours of quiet and of communication while 
waiting for dear to appear. I also know, had your health allowed, you would be doing the same with Dylan. But, rest assured, the example you 
set with Paul is now beginning to be repeated with Dylan, And, Christian is on his way to continuing down the family path you established. Your legacy continues.
 Since this past January, when you began that final leg of your journey from this world to God’s Heaven, your strength and love still abounded. Your biggest complaints revolved around how much of our time and effort was needed to keep you comfortable. You did not want to be a burden. You weren’t. You were focused on us, Dan and me, not on yourself. We didn’t mind, not in the least, but you cared about how much time and energy we put into loving you, caring for your basic needs. But, WE ARE FAMILY AND THAT’S WHAT FAMILIES DO.
 Even in your last week with us, as you were moving farther from this world and closer to the next, your days provided still more quiet lessons – lessons of the importance of remembering, lessons of strength, and lessons of unconditional love. Sitting by your hospital bedside for those long quiet hours, just you and me, holding your hand, stroking your head, through tears and smiles, and telling you how much I love you, your life’s examples once again provided me with the courage to face life with gusto, with peace, and to live life according to God’s principles. You are now with our Heavenly Father, complete and whole, and one day, in God’s timing, I will see you again. I love you daddy. I thank our Heavenly Father that you, John Robert Paschall, my daddy, that you were the one whom God chose during my formative years to be the wind beneath my wings.
Lucy Paschall Cupp
May 26, 2010

Lucy and family, we were sorry to hear of Uncle John's passing.  We always enjoyed seeing him when he visited Drewry.  I know he will be missed by everyone that knew him.  May God be with you and your family during this time of sorrow.
F. T. & Alice Paschall Wrenn

Lucy and family,
Your dad was one of a kind.  I really enjoyed all of his visits and seeing him at the family reunions.  He always had a funny story or joke to tell.  Even though he moved away from the manson area, I believe that in his heart, he never left.  Am so glad that we got to see him at his 90th birthday party.  For a lot of us, it was the first time that his whole family was able to get together. It was a special day for a very special man.  Our prayers go out to you and your family.  

David Paschall and family

Lucy and family,
I am sorry for this significant loss in your family.  Your dad must have made a great impact on many people throughout his 90 years.  How blessed you are with such a rich heritage.  Praying for your family to be reminded of God's nearness at this time.
Phillip Herring

I am very fortunate to have grown up with grandparents so close by, only a couple of houses down from ours. Grandpa took great pride and could always be found working away on his yard and garden - "Farmer John."  He could be found most evenings after dinner sitting back in his garage or hanging around somewhere chatting with the neighbors, but no matter what from 7-8pm, for as long as I can remember, he could be found in his leather recliner watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy.  Grandpa was also a pretty good carpenter - from a dollhouse & furniture to an outdoor playhouse and a fort in the woods, he was always thinking of things he could do for us kids to enjoy.  I can still see grandpa wearing that familiar green work shirt & pants leaning against his old green Ford pickup everytime I look down the street from my parents.  Thanks grandpa for buying all the icecream sandwiches and frozen pizzas grandma made you get.  Jeannie


Lucy and family,
Eula called me about John Robert.  So sorry to hear of your loss.  I am glad I got to know John R., mostly at the Paschall Reunions. I know we will all miss him but we have some good memories.  Take care,
 Shirley Pritchett, Henderson, NC

All your hunting buddies will miss you.
Thanks for the memories and touching our lives.Rest in peace Longhorn. From all your friends at Crossroads Hunt Club.

OBITUARY

John R. Paschall

1 May, 1920 – 22 May, 2010

Smith & Williams Funeral Home

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