Thank you all for coming here today. As his son, I will miss my Dad, John so much.

Dad, earlier last week, I said goodbye to you. As dad, you did a great job. When I left home, which now is over 20 years ago, I missed you so much. I remember getting dropped off at boarding school, the same school you went to, feeling so alone for the first time. I feel that way now, but much much worse. You must have known how much I looked up to you. You built space ships, so I built space legos. You went to a military school, so I did too. You took an engineering degree, so I did too. You let me seek my fortune in distant parts of this world, and I appreciate that.

I have been here, to this spot, many times now. One year ago, we were both right here. You came here, right here, as you always did, and now I finally know why. Dad, I’m glad we are here in Tarkio, I know you loved this town and the land around it. It is fitting and appropriate to bring you home.

Dad, people have told me some nice things about you. They say you made them smile and that you brightened their day. Mom said that too, she misses talking to you.

I’d like to say a few things now about you dad, a few nice things that I wish I could you tell you in person. You were a nice guy, dad, one of the good guys. You loved your country and believed in it, but you could never have gone into politics because you were way too honest in the best way possible. Dad, you almost always took the road less traveled, unless your family was hectoring you to get back on the interstate highway. As it turns out, we actually loved that slow forgotten road, but we just didn’t know it then. You did not care what other people thought, you beat to your own drummer. Gathered friends, if I could make a recording of that drummer, I could sell a platinum record, and I know that because sometimes, a lot of the time, I have the same stuff in my head. You were way smarter, way more intelligent, than I think even you knew. You were creative and you did so much with that. You built a prototype engine for the world’s most fuel efficient cars. You took beautiful photographs of nature and people wanted to see them. Somehow you got the people of New York, as in New York City, interested in them. They were published and seen by I’m not sure how many. You were always planning your next adventure, your next hike off into the wild. You never complained. For the entire last year, since we were last here, you were in a lot of pain and discomfort. I knew you weren’t a complainer, but wow, you suffered through a year of sick and didn’t complain. Thank you for setting a good example in that way and in so many more. I miss you and there are a lot of people here missing you.

Gathered friends and family, over the past few weeks I am at plus one and minus one family member. Continuing a long tradition, just one month ago, on April 4th (square root day, which dad, you are probably the only other one here who really really loves that), my wife gave birth to John Robert Stevenson. They aren’t here today, because it is a long way from our home, in Palo Alto, but they both miss you so much. We knew that Robbie had your genes, well, obviously, but we knew that because even in the ultrasounds the ultrasounding techs said he had big ears. So there’s that too, thank you dad. But yes, he got your ears and your giant head. And I remember when my wife was about to meet you for the first time — she was nervous, but I described you as a giant teddy bear and that worked fine. I wish we had more time together and I wish you got to see Robbie grow up some more. I’m sure that he too will catch all those great genes, anyway dad, you taught me the playbook. I’ll miss you but as I look at Robbie and show him the world, you’ll always be with me.

Speaking now for me, my mom, and many of us here: dad, John C., I love you and I miss you. You are back here now, your home town. Rest in peace.