Jeff Grogg

We recently lost Jeff Grogg to the universe. Jeff was a beloved husband to Lisa, a beloved brother to Kim and Sharon, a beloved uncle to Will, Josh and even a non-Grogg like my son Tom and also a feisty as shit brother-in-law to me. About 30 years ago I stood a few miles from here at Mission San Luis Rey giving my first eulogy. That was for my father and I learned an important life lesson. It’s easy to make people cry at a memorial service, but it’s more important to make them laugh and appreciate life.

When I last saw Jeff eight weeks ago today, he was in the hospital in LaJolla, a place I had driven him to and from many times over the last decade. He had been in the hospital a week and while Lisa and Kim had been by his side every day, most of the day, it was my only time visiting him. Following our normal pitter patter, I told him I thought he could probably stand one visit a week from me. He smiled and said…..maybe two. That was Jeff. I’ve known few with more stamina and endurance than Jeff. Let’s face it, he was always up on a ladder trying to fix something long after most of us would have had the good sense to stay on the ground. It is often said that the only true test of a man’s life is whether he had passion. Well, if there’s one thing I know about Jeff it was that he had more passion than most. This very palappa was one of those passions and it’s why Kim and I wanted to hold this memorial out here. When I told Jeff that I wanted to build a palappa out here on this otherwise sunny patio, he grasped the project in both hands and designed what to him was the perfect structure. Notice any bolts or screws? No, you won’t, because perfectionist that he was, he built this palappa to last longer in its elegance than any man made structure around. I knew enough to not interfere in his process and so the result is magnificent and lasting.

I often say that I am a jack of all trades, master of none. Jeff, on the other hand prided himself in being a jack of all trades, master of all. Jeff and I were locked in endless competition. I have two Ivy League degrees and taught at the graduate level for 13 years and yet on any subject that came up, Jeff invariable would challenge me on how much he learned all on his own. It wasn’t a Tuba…it was a Sousaphone (and I played one of the goddamn things for two years). It wasn’t a buffalo I created on the back hillside, it was a bison, for Christ’s sake. He always knew best…and many times he was right. I have been a captain of finance for 40 years, but I’ve never sold a property with as impressive a gain as Jeff is doing right now as he sells his office building in Vista and is doing so with a very crafty step up in basis that is putting a nice piece of change into his beloved Lisa’s pocket.

One of the reasons I had so much time for Jeff was because of my deep love for his younger sister, Kim. I didn’t know Jeff for this best 55 years of his life, but Kim did. She once told me that at one fragile moment in her life struggle to work in musical theater, he told her during a family trip to Hawaii that he paid for her to join them on, that she should not worry and that he would take care of her in her old age if she needed it. I will love him always for that kindness shown to her.

And that leaves me at my final comment about Jeff. For those he loved and cared for like Lisa, he quietly provided for them in a way that will be lasting. The only legacy any of us has that’s worth a damn is how we are remembered. Jeff is remembered for his strength, his fortitude, his pride, his humor, his loyalty, his love and caring, but mostly for his passion. His passion was a freight train that barreled through life from football in Wabash to rock n’roll drumming across the country and finally to growing prize tomatoes and habanero peppers in Escondido. We will all miss that passion.

The NYT just this week published an article titled “The surprising ways siblings shape our lives”. So, now I would like to pass this on to my lovely wife and Jeff’s favorite younger sister, Kim…(notice how I avoided incurring the wrath and passion of older sister Sharon there?)

From Kim:

I’ve literally known Jeff my whole life. He is five years older and was my protector right from the start. He WAS an older brother after all, so I got my share of good-humored poking along the way, including a bone spur on my tailbone from when he once kicked me for not wanting to watch his favorite TV show, Combat. He and his buddies would play Combat and jump out at you from the bushes at the most unexpected moments. Along the way he would find some stray dog and bring it home, a habit and affection he never lost all during his life. He went on from that to playing his drum set in our home music room. Our mom could sit for hours listening to his drumming as though listening to a lovely piano concerto, while all we heard was a lot of thumping. He would take those damn drumsticks everywhere with him and tap them on any surface including my head whenever I turned my back. When he was a star of the Wabash football team, I suddenly became more popular just because I was Jeff Grogg’s sister. When I was older and was finally asked by someone to prom, I remember that special moment walking down the stairs to greet my suitor, a kid named Andy, as Jeff sang at the top of his lungs, “There she is, Miss-Cellaneous…” But had Andy not shown me a respectful good time, Andy knew that Jeff would not be so funny to deal with.

When I graduated from college, Jeff helped me pile up my possessions into my VW bug and drove me out west like the Clampetts going to California, where he was already living. We only made it as far as Illinois before that bug died, so Jeff went back to Wabash and found another car and drove us out, allowing us to bond and share our own little family roadtrip as brother and sister.

When I finally moved to New York to pursue my acting career, Jeff was always supportive. He and Lisa would come and visit me in New York when I lived in a puny studio apartment and we would have so much fun together. It made me so happy to be able to have him share my love for New York when he lived with me and Rich years later when he stayed with us for almost a year.

When Rich and I moved out here, Jeff was a big factor in that decision. He loved cacti and succulents and taught me to love them too. Jeff also loved my crazy annual Christmas themes. One year, I wanted everyone to hand make an ornament, so Jeff made me this little wooden cactus, which sits next to my coffee machine. It’s what caused me to choose this lovely wooden receptacle to hold his memory. Now, every morning when I make my coffee, I look at this cactus and think of you, Jeff. You will always be in my heart my lovely brother.