Big George George Felan

In Memory of George Jimenez Felan March 17, 1998 My name is George Daniel Felan. I am my father's son. I write this in the memory of my father, George Jimenez Felan. My father was not a man of many words, but we knew how he felt by his actions. As children, he would rub our foreheads and put his fingers through our hair just before telling us good night. It would help me fall asleep and when I face difficulties, I oftentimes reflect back upon those moments. While he always encouraged my brother and I to do well in school, he did so with few words. I remember him taking my brother and I to the Swift & Co. slaughterhouse where he worked. We were small children, but the memory would last forever. No more words would ever be needed to explain the importance of getting a good education. My father would always tell my brother and I that no matter what we did, to be careful. He had experienced the loss of a son and could never live through it again. My father was a good, honest, and hard-working man who always provided for his family. Upon reflection, I am convinced today that he instilled within me the virtues of determination, motivation, focus, and stamina. These types of virtue enabled him to do so well as a young Golden Gloves boxer. Last night, a former boxer came up to me and said, "Your father was the only one I couldn't beat." My father always supported my brother and I by acquiescence. He knew that we would have to learn both the good and the bad of our actions. My father, probably by the discrimination of the old days, left school without being able to read. As a teacher myself, I can say with certainty that learning to read is no easy task. I can also say with great pride that my father finally learned to read in adulthood. I knew my father was always proud of my brother and I. When I was to receive my Master's degree, he told my mother that he was taking the day off no matter what. My father was not a man of many words, but I knew. When visiting home not too long ago, I was telling my mother of the complexity of the study of probability and statistics and how I had never played a deck of poker. My professor had asked that we study the cards so we could compute the chances of getting a particular card or set. Before I knew it, my father silently went to the bedroom to retrieve a set of cards. I don't know if he ever realized how much that small token step would encourage me to pursue Doctoral level research and statistics. My father was not a man of many words, but I knew. Just last Saturday a week ago, he proudly showed the little jackets that my brother and I wore as small children. He had taken them to the cleaners to be dry-cleaned. My father was not a man of many words, but I knew. My father loved his brothers and sister very much. He felt their pains and was happy for their joys. My father loved my mother. He told me so not too long ago. For her, these were his words; "I love your mother very much. She is a beautiful woman." My father loved my brother and I. He said, "I always want you and Gilbert to do good and be okay." I know my father is at peace now, free from the worries of this earthly life and as free as the sea gulls he so loved to watch. My father was not a man of many words, but we knew.

Big George George Jimenez Felan Born 01 26 1940 Fort Worth TX USA Passed Away 03 14 1998 Fort Worth TX USA Cemetery Mt. Olivet TX USA

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