"Eulogy given for Dad, October 17, 2020, by Scott Kovacs Good afternoon, friends and family, and thank you for coming today to help celebrate Dad?s life. Shortly after he passed, I began writing things down I wanted to remember about Dad. I wrote nearly every day between May 9th and Father?s Day. Shortly after that, the pad of paper got misplaced as I reorganized my office, and felt like I?d lost my connection to the grieving process. When I found that connection again, I was on a park bench talking to him about how beautiful Seattle was in the Summer, and how so many of the plants and flowers here reminded me of my boyhood in Zion. You see, I?d formed a new habit of taking Dad out to lunch once a week, something he loved. When I say I took him out to lunch I mean ?him.? I?ve been carrying him with me everywhere for a while now, showing him my world. A pivotal moment in my conversation with Dad came when an errant object hit the bathroom sink just right, leaving it shattered and broken, and I was left with the decision to either call the handyman, or repair it myself. The urge to text Dad for advice was strong. Two thoughts came to mind: ?you can fix it? and, ?you know, there?s a YouTube video on how to do this.? These were both unmistakably Dad-thoughts: The first came from Dad?s now famous line: ?I can fix that,? and the second because Dad could find a YouTube video on how to fix just about any thing from the broken servo on an Corvette headlight to how to create custom under cabinet lighting by hand soldering twenty feet of LEDs together. It was 1:00 pm on a Saturday afternoon when the sink broke. I took some measurements, a mental inventory of what I needed, a photo or two just in case, and went to Home Depot. By 3:00 I was sweeping up the last bits and leaving the job better than I found it (another thing that was important to Dad), and, for the record, I did it in *one* trip to Home Depot, beating Dad?s average of two. For me, that was a moment of transition away from writing Dad?s obituary, or even his Eulogy. It was transformative, a real-life experience with Dad?s love and care after his death, an expression of how the time we spent together remains permanently integrated in my everyday life. Even though I had written down as many of those shared moments as I could after he died, I would in that moment realize that those words I?d written, the stories, those charisms and gifts about Dad are best honored by living my life with them, as much as pondering them. ---- Even still, Dad?s death feels ?subtractive,? as though I have a Dad shaped hole in my life, or maybe you feel like you have a Jim-shaped hole in yours. I think the truth is, that physical absence is a place where a lot of light can live: Dad created ? and he was really good and making things ? an inner sculpture of himself that I could rely on to remember him in those moments. It was that dimensional version of Dad I relied on making that repair. It?s always been there, and as much as I love Dad it will always be there, full of tips on the right kind of silicone to use. It?s memories of trips to Home Depot deciding whether to use clear silicone or white, it?s stories, it?s meals together, or trips to Disneyland. The memory of a good soul has a happy home in heart of love. ---- I find no irony at all that dad took up sculpture later in life, even if his subject matter wasn?t about us, to put it mildly. He wasn?t just fixing, he wasn?t just building, he was creating. Dad created space in all of us and filled it with his stories, with his off-color humor, and his generosity. To say that Dad was generous with his gift of story would be an understatement. When Kasi and I were teenagers, we developed a numbering system for Dad?s stories based on the decade the story came from. Family dinners were often punctuated with ?here comes number 11,? or ?I think we?re about to hear number 32 again.? Dad had a story about everyone he loved. Dad had a story about everyone he wasn?t very fond of. Dad had a story about every event that changed him. Dad loved a dirty joke. While his humor sometimes was a bit off-color, his gregarious nature had a way of carrying the moment, keeping us laughing. Dad loved George Carlin, and recently Lewis Black, who I cannot see on TV without hearing Dad?s voice making the same joke. Dad changed us all, mostly with his kind heartedness. Dad rarely if ever refused an honest request for help. In so doing, he transformed a lot of lives along the way, including mine. His liberal generosity, a value he took from his own father helped save my life during a time when I could easily have lost it altogether. His generosity brought neighborhoods and communities together and called him to serve in organizations of care for vulnerable people and animals. That certainly included the Make A Wish Foundation, which gave Dad some of the most significant friendships in his adult life, people that would become our chosen family. Dad got my high school drama club involved in painting the sets for the Scottsdale Jaycee Mavericks, which we did in our driveway. (My friends still marvel at the fact my Dad was an OK Corral recreator.) In fact, one of Dad?s proudest achievements in his later years, outside of getting to know his grandson, whom he loved so much, was to help build Rusty?s Angel?s Sanctuary, a place where his own two dogs will now spend their own retirement, enjoying the fruit of Dad?s labor building some of the fanciest doghouses I?ve ever seen. We all want to thank Emily for her care of Petey and Reba. Dad?s house was the clubhouse. He loved that his neighbors, his close-by friends, felt so at home with him. He cherished each one of you, and I want to thank you for taking such good care of Dad, and for being there at the very last. Especially James, Bennie, Fernanda, and Davey. ----- Some day soon, I?ll get around to writing down all those stories about Dad. The time he slid down elevator cables to save a family stuck in an elevator. The time *I* was stuck in an elevator and was saved by Dad, much to the surprise of the people in the elevator with me. The time I threw a rod halfway between Flagstaff and Phoenix and he came and got me. You know how that list would go. I?ll also share the ones I?m still having. The ?aha moments? of choosing the right grout for the kitchen floor or the easy decision to offer help to someone who asks. Collectively, you are all part of the Jim-shaped light in my life, in our family?s life, in our chosen family?s life. Each one with your own story, your own piece of Dad. He wanted this gathering, this celebration, so we could put that sculpture, that image together and see him in each other in that new, transformed way. Thank you all for being here to bring the pieces together. We make a great Jim-shaped sculpture, don?t we? My love and thanks to you all, and may Dad?s memory be a blessing forever. "
In loving memory of
James Kovacs
James Kovacs was born in Linz, Austria on February 7, 1950 to Theresia and Jakob Kovacs. and passed away on Friday, May 8, 2020. The family immigrated to the United States in 1956 and settled in Chicago, IL. He attended Catholic elementary schools and graduated from St. Gregory's High School in 1968. He married Laura Miller in 1968, and the couple welcomed their first child, James Scott Kovacs in 1969, and their second child, daughter Kassandra three years later. Jim worked his entire career in the elevator business, first in construction and then in maintenance of existing elevators, remaining active with his union. He maintained connections to community service and non-profit work much of his adult life alongside his family.
The family lived in several areas of Chicago and eventually moved to Zion, IL. Jim was active as a supporter of the Waukegan Community Players, their local community theater, producing several shows, constructing sets, and even hosting a cast party or two. In 1981 the family moved to Phoenix, Arizona, where other family were already established.
With his friendly, open manner and many practical skills he quickly started a weekend handyman business called "Husband for Rent," with many of his customers becoming close friends. Early on in their new home Jim and Laura joined the Scottsdale Jaycees where he performed with the Jaycee Mavericks, a group that staged gunfights including the "Shootout at the OK Corral" as well as helped organize and participate in the famous "Parada del Sol." They were also early volunteers with the Make-A-Wish Foundation helping to develop the first chapter, founded in Phoenix, and remained supporters for many years.
Jim moved to Denver for a brief period with his second wife Barbara Carpenter, returning to Phoenix to be closer to his aging parents. Soon after returning, even though officially retired, his old customers soon kept him busy doing what he loved: building and repairing things. If that involved solving a puzzle, so much the better. His favorite saying was: "I can fix that." And he could, whether it was a bookshelf, an ultralight aircraft (which he built in the back yard!), a boat, hot tub, or his vintage Corvette!
In recent years, Jim helped in the construction of Rusty's Angels Sanctuary, a non-profit providing care and support for senior dogs, as well as serving on their board of directors. Jim's home in Phoenix was a gathering place for neighbors, who frequently stopped by for a drink or to socialize. He remained a part of the Make-A-Wish Foundation through "The Hasbones," a close-knit group of friends from the early days of the formation of the non-profit. Jim will be remembered for his storytelling, and his ability to recall an event or occasion with colorful narrative and even explicit humor. He was sought after for his advice and had a policy of never refusing anyone a sincere request for help.
Jim was preceded in death by his daughter, Kimberly, and his parents, Theresia and Jakob Kovacs. He is survived by his son James Scott Kovacs of Seattle, Washington, his daughter Kassandra (Joseph Burnside) of Albuquerque, NM and his grandson Joseph Burnside, Jr., as well as his sister Barbara (George Seperich) of Mesa, AZ and nephew Ilya Seperich, of Los Angeles, CA. Included in those surviving Jim are Laura Kovacs of Phoenix, AZ, Barbara Carpenter of OK, Emily Rae Carpenter of Littleton, CO, , as well as extended family in Chicago and numerous dear friends in Phoenix. Information about a celebration of life is forthcoming. Memorial gifts can be made to Rusty's Angels Sanctuary at rustysanglessanctuary.org.
Tributes
"I knew jim when were in high school together at St.Gregorys in Chicago. He had a great sense of humor and smart .i am glad he had a good life helping his family, friends and animals. May he Rest In Peace. Hal Conick "
"Jim had all things ready for his passing and would joke about living life to the fullest while he still could. It is the rest of us who are left unprepared by the loss of this wonderful man. I'm not sure how we will fix and measure home improvement projects without him. Being his neighbor was a joy. He helped us in anyway he could if it was running our son to school in emergencies or offering advise or assistance...he was there. I miss him so much and am forever grateful for his love and influence in my life. We shared a love of "critters", libations, and shared many similar political and world views and had many cherished conversations involving all those things. The pain of his loss has been sharp, but the memories of time spent brings a smile through the tears. His positive attitude and love for life and friends was evident. So many lives touched by this giving human. RIP Jim. Your memory lives on forever in me. "