Tom Engle

In the middle of the night on Tuesday, November 26th, Tom Engle was promoted from dad, grandpa, husband, and friend to guardian angel. Many would assume he passed because of his terminal, late-stage pulmonary fibrosis, but his family can’t help but think that the Chicago Bears’ horrific season and his devastating fantasy football loss to his daughter last weekend were also contributing factors.

Tom was born in Indiana in 1947 and spent most of his youth there. He took immense pride in his home state— so much so, that it wasn’t until he moved to Missouri in the late 1980s that he realized most of the country considered the term “Hoosier” to be derogatory. He was a proud graduate of Ball State University and loved telling everyone that, while he was there, he worked with George Clooney’s dad, was fraternity brothers with David Letterman, and dated Janet DeWitt.

After earning a communications degree, Tom moved to Chicago, where he taught high school at Niles West. He coached the freshman football team, ran the theater department, sponsored the debate team, and – most significantly – met and fell in love with his wife of 51 years, Karen.

After years of teaching and raising his only child, Erin, Tom shifted his focus to community service. He served as the Executive Director of United Services, The Family Arena, and, ultimately, he wrapped up his long and fulfilling career at Duckett Creek Sanitary District (insert the famous Cousin Eddie quote here).

Tom lived a full and varied life, never shying away from new experiences. Whether earning his doctorate, becoming a certified hypnotist, buying a tiny two-seater convertible during a very obvious midlife crisis, taking golf lessons, or planning vacations, he embraced every moment. A lifelong, die-hard Cubs fan, he was no stranger to disappointment. A decent poker player, an online fantasy football gambler, an award-winning chili maker, and the self-proclaimed watercolor king of Dardenne Prairie, MO - the guy knew a little bit about everything.

But it’s safe to say Tom’s favorite hobbies revolved around his small but close-knit family. He loved watching his grandson Aayden play sports, talking with his granddaughter Emma about her college and career plans, playing bridge with Karen, and watching the game or hitting the driving range with Erin. Of course, he also loved sharing pizza and cuddles with his favorite ball of fur and best little friend, Cubbie. For Tom, that was the good stuff.

I (this is his daughter, by the way) once read that when someone dies, their brain stays active for seven minutes, replaying all the best moments of their life. My dad was blessed to know so many wonderful people through work, school, community, and social connections, and each of you held a special place in his squishy heart. From my family to yours, thank you to everyone who made his seven-minute highlight reel and stayed with him until the final curtain closed.

He was really, really lucky. And so were we.

On Tuesday, December 3rd, we will gather at Baue, Cave Springs, to share our favorite Tom stories, listen to sad music, hug one another, and celebrate his life. Visitation will be from 1:30 to 3:30, with the celebration starting promptly at 3:30.

Dad wasn’t big on flowers, but if you’d like to do something in his honor, you can Venmo his daughter Erin at erin-cox-29 (last four: 3677). Donations will go toward continuing to spoil his dog, his grandkids, his wife, and his community.

But honestly, what I’d really love for you to do instead is this: If you still have a dad, hug him, call him, or drop by to watch the game. Do something kind for a stranger—expecting nothing in return. Hit the penny slots, the Texas Hold’Em table, or bid seven no trump in a heated game of bridge. If you’re lucky enough to have a body that still works, use it. Take a long walk. Take a deep breath. And don’t take either of those seemingly “normal” things for granted.

Say everything you need to say. Do something you’ve always wanted to do. Be good to one another. And fly the W.

And always, always remember: The greatest game ever played was on a Wednesday night in Cleveland.

I miss you already, Daddy. 

Go Cubs Go.