For most of his nearly 75 years, George Bonney was a bandsman. Much of his life was spent marching to, listening to, or playing march music. It is, therefore, fitting that he sould be remembered today with band music.

It seems somehow ironic that march music should have been such a significant part of his life, since the regimentation and precision it represents was so contrary to his aversion for pomp and circumstance. His idea of formality was a bolo tie.

All of us have memories of our years with George, but let me share three things that I think capture the essential George Bonney.

First, he was friendly and outgoing. He dearly loved people and would talk for hours if given the chance. His friends were on equal footing with his family - everybody was important to George.

Second, he was dedicated and involved - no mere joiner, George. Whatever the task, whenever the call, he was willing to step forward and help. Perhaps someone had him in mind when they coined the phrase, "Let George do it." He always did.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, he had a willingness and ability to make people laugh. To this day, I believe he considered his most important task in life that of making others smile. I will never forget the impish grin that followed one of his dumb jokes.

He was quick-witted and no one was spared his dry, razor-sharp humor. When he knew he had a line that worked, it was, in his favorite expression, "like a bad penny." It just kept coming back. He once nearly drove a friend to distraction when, on a weekly basis, he'd ask, "Have you heard of the hereafter?" She knew the answer would always be, "If you're not on time, you'll be here after we leave."

If George were to return right now, He'd mingle in a group just waiting for someone to ask, "What happened, George?" With all seriousness he'd reply, "I fell into a vat of beer." "Did you drown?" they'd ask. "Not right away," he'd say with a twinkle in his eye, "Had to get out twice to go to the bathroom"

That's the way he'd have approached his passing. He'd want us to do the same.

George loved life and loved to laugh. He'd want us to remember him with a smile, not a tear, to celebrate his life, not mourn his death.

He was a unique and special individual. A good husband and father, a valuable friend, a hard worker. He was, in short, a good human being. No greater tribute can be paid.

I, for one, am glad he touched our lives. Thanks, Dad.