I would like to start off by thanking everyone who showed up today to celebrate my dad. Before I honor him, I would like to share a message I received from one of my dad’s chemo nurses. “Hi Kyla, my name is Bethany and I hope I’m not taking this too far and acting unprofessional when I write this, but I was one of your dad’s treatment nurses in Salem. I was his nurse the first and second treatments and I always tried to chat with him every time I had a chance to. I wish I had better words other than I’m so sorry for what you and your family are going through with your dad’s cancer. I’m so sorry the chemo didn’t work as it was hoped to and for that, I feel awful because I know it must’ve been so frustrating and agonizing to seemingly have lost so much time to a chemo that was unsuccessful. Your dad is a patient that I will always remember because of how kind and easy going he is. I don’t often connect with patients like I did with your dad but sometimes when we are the nurses who give the first round of treatment, we form a bit of a special bond with our patients. We had some great chats about music, movies, and cars during his treatments and I will genuinely miss that. It’s been a true honor to be one of his nurses and I don’t say that often. My patients feel like family to me and your dad truly does as well.”
I think this and the amount of people that showed up here today to honor him, speaks volumes to the type of person my father was.
Today I would not only like to talk about what my father meant to me, but I will also talk about the 5 things that really defined who he was: the love he had for his friends + family, football, hot rods, hummingbirds, and Rock N’ Roll.
When I found out my dad was ill and that my time with him was limited, I decided I would ask my dad questions and write his responses in a journal. A journal that I will cherish for the rest of my life and I look forward to sharing some of his responses with all of you today.
My dad had the biggest heart with so much love for his friends and family. I truly believe this stemmed from his upbringing. My dad credited his parents, Kerry and Patricia Benson. When asking him about his childhood and relationships my dad said, “I never had a girlfriend really growing up. I was too much of a rebel for most girls, but I wanted what my parents had.” And aside from the admiration my dad had for my grandparents, my dad was a protective big brother. I can recall the countless times my brother and I would bicker and fight growing up and my dad would always tell us that we are blood and that we needed to look out for each other. And while I know he loved to tease his younger sisters, that’s exactly what he did…he was that protective big brother. As my dad and his younger sisters, Kim and Kyra got married, and starting having children and families of their own, my dad said on several occasions, “I really like my brother in laws. I got really lucky with them” when referring to my uncles Joe Morrow and Cary Dammarrell.
There’s family and then there are friends which are the family you choose. One of the many things I admired about my dad was the lifelong friendships that he had. A few weeks before my dad passed, I was laying with him on his bed he wanted me to know all the nicknames of his childhood friends that I have known all of my life. He said, “Kyla write this down. Jeff Kilgore was known as ‘Kill Dog’, then John Elwood became ‘El Dog’, Wade Dental was ‘Wade the Suede’ and Pat Albin was ‘Albin head’.” My dad’s friendships didn’t end with his childhood friends. It was so amazing to watch him form special bonds with his coworkers at the state like Jody, Julie, Jim, and of course Michele, who he said started out as my “work wife” but became more like a sister and my best friend over the years.
Today I am wearing one of my dad’s old Oregon shirts. I can’t express enough how cool it is to look around and see everyone sporting his favorite teams. My dad would have really loved this. To say my dad was a big 49er and Oregon Duck football fan, would be a severe understatement. In fact, I think the first curse word I ever heard as a little girl came from my father during a football game where the 49ers were clearly losing and I am pretty sure it was followed with the tv being shut off for the remainder of the game. But in all seriousness, my dad was passionate about the sport. He got Oregon duck football season tickets back in 1999 when I was just 10 years old. Some of my fondest memories growing up involved tailgating, going to games, and celebrating our victories. To be honest, I can’t really imagine ever watching a football game without him. I don’t think it will ever be the same.
Every little girl sees their dad as a superhero. While some dads wear tool belts and some carry fishing poles. My dad raced hot rods. In 1995, when I was just 6 years old my dad bought his famous 1966 red El Camino. While most of mine and my brother’s favorite childhood memories consisted of my dad driving us around in his hot rod while we screamed “Faster Faster” as he revved his engine and floored it on a back road, my dad’s love for cars began far before my brother and I were even born. One question I asked my dad was- When you look back on your childhood, what stands out? His response was, “the smell of classic cars”. Another question I asked my dad was recall a time he got in the most trouble and what happened? I was expecting one of his many mischievous childhood stories involving Steve Skewis or Jeff Kilgore, but his response surprised me. He said, “My first car was a 65 Chevelle. I was on my way to school at 17 years old. At an intersection, I spun my tires to get through, when I hit second gear, I lost control and the car spun out of control and made the car stall. A cop happened to be sitting two cars back. He ticketed me for a parked car facing the wrong way, the car was towed for $300, the cop arrested me and tried charging me with reckless driving, but I retained an attorney and got it dropped to careless driving. I was put in a jumpsuit and spent 2 hours in jail before grandma bailed me out.” He said, “I was like Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgemont High.”
Most of you here, probably know that my dad had a huge fascination with hummingbirds. From his weekly feedings to his hummingbird tattoos, there’s no doubt the love my dad had for these little birds. When my dad was sick, he told me that he didn’t know if there would be a way to send me a message someday, but if there was that it would be in the form of a hummingbird. After my dad passed, I looked up the meaning of a hummingbird and, ironically, this is what I found:
When a hummingbird is visiting you, it brings good news. If you passed through difficult times, the hummingbird tells you that it’s over. Also, if the tiny bird visits you after someone’s death, it means that you will heal. The hummingbird represents a reminder to follow your dreams without letting obstacles stop you.
The symbolism for a hummingbird couldn’t be any more fitting. I hope that everyone here can find peace + comfort the next time a hummingbird pays you a visit and that you too will be reminded of my dad.
Lastly, I don’t think I could stand up here and not mention the love my dad had for music. My dad told me, “Music has always been a huge part of my life. The first record I bought was Led Zepplin, I was 12 and it was for sale for $2 in a used record bin. I had a cheap record player and the only record I had was Neil Young that someone bought me. Led Zepplin was kick ass rock n’ roll and Led Zepplin still sounds as good to me as it did when I was 12 years old.” As a kid I can’t think of a time where my dad wasn’t jamming to his music. I can recall time after time when music would be blaring from the speakers in our basement of my childhood home. From a very young age, I can remember my dad quizzing me time and time again when a song was playing, because you know, any child of his better know the difference between the Beatles, The Eagles, INXS, and Tom Petty. As I got older, and we moved, my dad’s car with upgraded stereo systems became the place where he could blast his music. He enjoyed sharing new songs and especially loved to attend live concerts from some of his favorite bands, like The Ty Curtis Band, Black Keys, Black Pistol Fire, Kings of Leon, Little Hurricane, and the Revivalists to name a few. He loved music so much it was represented in art all over his body with his tattoos.
We all feel very cheated to have lost an amazing man so soon. While I will miss him every single day for the rest of my life, I find comfort in knowing that he lived a good life. He told me, “Kyla, I am blessed with my life. I always had a job. I feel like I have been blessed way more than I have been cursed.”
I got a tattoo of a humming bird and the words “Keep Going- love you pops” in my dad’s hand writing. “Keep going” is a song by one of my dad’s favorite bands, The Revivalists and I would like to end with playing this song for you all.
Papa, I will always love you and in the words of the Revivalists- “I’m never gonna lose you, I’ve got you deep inside my chest and I can feel you beating like the soul of a drummer boy.” Love your little girl. Thank you.
Kyla Benson 