A Father, Papa, and Friend

(Fred on his Harley at the Tanker Base where he worked. He helped fill the planes for wildfire suppression.)

I write this post with the heaviest of hearts today. I don't really even know how to begin. But I guess I'll just start. As some of you may know, we lost Carrie's dad Fred this past Friday at the age of just 56. I can hardly believe that I'm writing these words, as we go through one of the hardest, and honestly most bizarre things we've ever experienced. Fred's death was so sudden, and very unexpected. Carrie received a call that Fred had a heart attack in Iowa while on a motorcycle trip, and he was on the way to the hospital. About an hour later we got word that he was gone. It's just really hard to believe. We look at pictures now and think he's going to just walk in the door.

As difficult as it is to realize he's actually gone, we think back on his last few months of life and are comforted by the fact that he experienced some amazing things. He was able to travel to Europe this past spring with his uncle. They saw Paris, the French Riviera, Copenhagen, and other amazing places. Then during this last motorcycle trip he and one of his best friends rode all the way from Brainerd, Minn., to New Mexico. They wanted to see the place where the movie "Wild Hogs" was shot. So they did.

He loved that motorcycle. Fred wore a Harley shirt and a Harley hat most days. It was weird to me when he didn't have a hat with flames on it. Every spring he and I would talk about how long it would be before he could get on the bike again. "I usually wait until the first good rain," he'd always say, "So there isn't so much sand on the roads." I'd bet he said those words to me every spring after he got that bike. Those are the conversations I'll miss.

I have to admit I was a little scared of the man when I started dating his daughter. What man isn't? Plus, I was only 16. But he was so good at putting people at ease, and he made it pretty easy on me. I have no stories of being threatened with bodily harm, even though he may have been thinking it a time or two.

I always looked up to Fred Eiesland. He was taller than me. But it was, of course, much more than that. He spent 24 years as a volunteer firefighter. I have a deep respect for those who are so selfless and willing to risk their own lives for that of others. He was that man. Running out the door at 2:00 a.m., he was willing to lay it on the line to save someone else. I think of how many people are alive today because of something Fred did. That amazes me. This week, Fred's body was escorted back to Brainerd by a long line of fire trucks and fellow firefighters. It's a unique fraternity, and it was an amazing sight.

I also admired his character. He was an honest man. He was full of integrity. He was kind. He was giving. He was a man of courage. He had the heart of a child, but the strength of a giant. He was always there with advice when we were going through a rough spot. But he was always comforting. He smiled and laughed. I'll miss his laugh.

I'll never forget the day our daughter Ellie was born, and Fred and Linda drove through the night to get to Sioux Falls. They stood by the door as she came into the world, and "Papa" as he would be called, was one of the first to hold her in his arms. She was his first grandbaby, and he was so proud. Whenever they would come to visit he and Linda would fight the whole drive down over who got to hold her first.

Like I said, his heart was like a child's, and I think that's why kids just adored him so much. It wasn't just his grandchildren, but nieces, nephews, and kids at church too. They all called him "Uncle Fred." He was always willing to get on the floor and play. I can still hear Ellie's little voice in my head saying, "Papa, Papa, PAPA! Come play in my room!" He always would. And Fred was never ashamed to wear a pink princess crown, if it's what Ellie wanted.

Or anything else Ellie wanted him to wear...

This summer Ellie went to stay at Grammie and Papa's house for a few days for her annual "All by Myself Vacation." They went for a canoe ride, roasted marshmallows, and Papa camped out in the backyard with her. They stayed up late and talked. I pray Ellie remembers those special times.

I know my boys won't have any real memories of him, but they'll definitely hear stories of how great their Papa was. I'll make sure of that. A piece of Fred is alive in my boys. For that I'm eternally grateful. I pray that they will grow into men like their grandfather. Even if he did like to teach them to stick out their tongues.

Fred Eiesland wasn't just my father-in-law. He was my friend. One of the things I'll remember most is something that happened about five years ago in California. We were there for Carrie's brother Ben's wedding when Fred, Linda, Carrie and I went to Lake Tahoe for the day. We ate at a cool restaurant and had some ice cream later. But Fred said something during our drive around the lake that will stick with me forever. We had been talking about family relationships and Fred said, "Well, I don't think of you Chris as just my son-in-law, but I look at you as a friend." I'm guessing Fred probably wouldn't even remember saying that. But I remember. It really had a profound effect on my life. We were friends. I wasn't just some guy that was married to his only daughter. He actually liked having me around. And that felt so good to hear.

Many men keep their emotions and their feelings inside and don't express them much. Fred was not that man. We knew we were loved because he told us. Carrie said she feels so peaceful about the fact that there was nothing left unsaid. He called her on her birthday, which was just a few days before he died. She says she doesn't remember anything about their conversation except that they said, "I love you." But that's all that really matters anyway.

We knew we were loved, and he knew we loved him. There isn't much else. We know he had a relationship with Jesus, and that He welcomed him home with open arms. That is what gives us the most comfort.

I'm honored to have shared a big part of my life with such a wonderful man. We had a lot of laughs along the way and I'll miss that a lot. I can still hear his voice when he would call me. Every time I answered he'd say, "Mr. Studer..." and I'd know it was him.

Rest in peace, Mr. Eiesland.

If you'd like to see the obituary CLICK HERE and the story about the firefighter procession CLICK HERE. Here are some other snapshots of Papa...