In Memory of L. Herbert Capshew

17 December 1925 - 30 January 1993

We have gathered today to remember Herb Capshew and to honor his memory -- a memory that each and every one of us holds so dearly.

Herb was my uncle, and he occupied a special place in my world. As I tried to reflect on what he meant to me, I was led to consider the history of my association with him. That association began in 1954, which was a very special year for the Capshew family. In particular, for the three Capshew brothers, John, Herb, and Bob.

In early May 1954 Herb and Jan Capshew had a baby daughter. They named her Lucy. Later that same month, John and Virginia Capshew had their first child, also a daughter, whom they called Carol. A few months later, in October, a third child was born, to Bob and Ruth Capshew. This one was a boy. He was christened James Herbert. James after his maternal grandfather, and Herbert for his paternal uncle. That child, of course, was me.

Naturally, it took a while for me to even learn my name, and much longer before I began to realize its significance. At some point, however, I became aware of the existence of my uncle Herb, and began to appreciate the deep bond between him and my father that would lead my parents to choose me as Herb's namesake. Having several brothers myself, I can imagine the depths of brotherly love that prompted this bestowal.

Until my late teens, my uncle Herb was a distant and somewhat mysterious figure who lived in far away New Jersey. That changed, however, about twenty years ago, when Herb moved to Chicago. At that point he became a regular visitor to family reunions, and I came to appreciate his mischievous smile and easy-going charm. And for a short while, I was graced with two wonderful Capshew uncles, Herb and John, in close proximity. Those were times I will always cherish.

Herb continued to be a regular presence in my life, and after I left the family nest, we occasionally exchanged visits. I always marveled at this man, who was born a Kentuckian, raised as a Hoosier, and became a confirmed urbanite. Somehow he combined these influences into a harmonious whole, knitting them together with his genuine interest in other people and an ability to make conversation with nearly everyone he met. Herb had a wide streak of that famous Capshew amiability, and he applied it indiscriminately, to friends and strangers alike.

In grieving for Herb, I have been comforted by a passage in the Bible. For me, it speaks to what I see as one of the defining characteristics of his personality: his lack of concern for material possessions, for the kind of mundane security that so many of us seek avidly but falsely. The passage is from the gospel of Matthew, Chapter 6, [25-34] when Jesus speaks of trusting in providence:

"That is why I am telling you not to worry about your life and what you are to eat, nor about your body and how you are to clothe it. Surely life means more than food, and the body more than clothing! Look at the birds in the sky. They do not sow or reap or gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they are? Can any of you, for all his worrying, add one single cubit to his span of life? And why worry about clothing? Think of the flowers growing in the fields; they never have to work or spin; yet I assure you that not even Solomon in all his regalia was robed like one of these. Now if that is how God clothes the grass in the field which is there today and thrown into the furnace tomorrow, will he not much more look after you, you men [people] of little faith? So do not worry; do not say, 'What are we to eat? What are we to drink? How are we to be clothed?' It is the pagans who set their hearts on all these things. Your heavenly Father knows you need them all. Set your hearts on his kingdom first, and on his righteousness, and all these other things will be given you as well. So do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

I like to think that Herb was the kind of person who truly did not worry about tomorrow, who was able to take life one day at a time. I am grateful for the love he showed me, for the generous example he set, for the many ways he enriched my life. These things I will carry with me as I carry on without him.

Remarks prepared by James H. Capshew for memorial service, Saturday, 13 March 1993, at North Central Church of Christ, Bloomington, Indiana.