Obituary of W. Timothy Leuzarder

W. Timothy Leuzarder of Florham Park passed away suddenly on Tuesday, October 18. He was 71. Born on May 8, 1945, in Orange, NJ, Tim grew up in Verona, NJ. He graduated from Defiance College in Defiance, OH in 1967 with a B.S. in Business Administration. He lived in Florham Park, NJ for 45 years. Tim was an Exclusive Agent with Allstate Insurance for 41 years, retiring in 2011 to travel and spend time with friends and family. He won numerous awards throughout his career, but his biggest reward was servicing his 7,000+ customers in the area. Tim was predeceased by his wife of 39 years, Patricia Cregan Leuzarder. He is survived by his four children: Tim of Long Island City, NY, Tracy (Jim) Hunt of Florham Park, Alyson Braca of Florham Park and Maggie of Summit, NJ. He is also survived by his five wonderful grandchildren Lucas, Katie, Shannon, James and Arabella; his four siblings, John (Sue) of Lafayette, NJ, Linda of Verona, NJ, Mark Dean (Phyllis) of Chester, NJ, and Justin Ripley of Montague, NJ; and by many nieces, nephews and cousins. Tim was an avid golfer and member of the Brooklake Country Club for 34 years. He was passionate about photography and loved capturing exciting moments with his camera and sharing them with everyone. He was a dedicated sports fan who traveled the world to attend many major sporting events, including: 40 consecutive U.S. Open tennis tournaments, Wimbledon, the French Open, the Australian Open, the Masters, the British Open, the Kentucky Derby, World Series and Super Bowls, among others. His zest for life and new experiences inspired those around him to live life to its fullest. He was an active volunteer in Florham Park, serving on the Board of Education as Vice President for several years. He also coached little league and girls' softball for nearly 20 years. Tim treasured his time at Defiance College, keeping in close contact with his classmates and serving on the Board of Trustees for the last 14 years. Visiting hours will be at Burroughs, Kohr & Dangler Funeral Home in Madison, NJ on Sunday, October 23 from 5pm – 9pm and Monday, October 24 from 2pm – 4pm and 7pm – 9pm. Services will be held at Holy Family Church in Florham Park on Tuesday, October 25 at 10am. In lieu of flowers, donations in his memory can be made to Defiance College at the Defiance College Office of Institutional Advancement, 701 N. Clinton Street, Defiance, OH 43512 or http://www.defiance.edu/alumni/support-dc.html. W. Timothy Leuzarder Eulogy I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the American Dream. What it means, whether it still exists. And every time I think about it, I think about my father. He was the son of an Irish immigrant who fled her home country to seek refuge in the United States. He was born on Victory in Europe (V-E) Day, May 8, 1945 — a day when the country was alive, celebrating life and excited about the future. He grew up in Verona, New Jersey in a small but beautiful home on Newman Avenue. My siblings, cousins and I have had the privilege of hearing my dad and his siblings — John, Linda, Dean and Rip — recount stories of their childhood hundreds of times, and they never got old. The stories were epic and I wish could share them all with you, but picture the Little Rascals in black and white just terrorizing 50 Newman Avenue with dumbbells crashing , shotguns and bullet holes in the walls. Worst of all, the ratio of people to bathrooms was seven to one. My dad cherished his childhood memories, especially the endless summer days at the Westville pool with his cousins, which sounded like the absolute center of the universe back in the day and I think I speak for the rest of my Leuzarder contemporaries when I say that I’m jealous I never got to experience it. Our dad went away to college, and somehow he wound up all the way out in Defiance College, which he liked to qualify was in Defiance, Ohio. He joined a fraternity, TKE, where he met classmates and brothers who became lifelong friends. I will never forget the story of where he was the day John F. Kennedy was shot. He just got out of class and was walking down the stairs of Defiance Hall when he saw his two friends crying and asked what was wrong. They both cried out that the President was shot, and my dad replied, “Why would anyone want to shoot President McCann?!” — who was the president of the college at the time. He was so moved by JFK’s passing that he and a couple buddies piled into a 1955 Chevy and drove straight through the night to Washington, DC for the funeral. He stood on the steps of the Senate Office building to get a glimpse of the somber funeral procession and the First Family. He then called his distraught mother, who thought her son was in Ohio as she was watching the first Irish Catholic president’s funeral live on television, to share the history he had just witnessed with her. I think a lot about the day JFK died and what that did to a generation who was so hopeful after winning World War II and saw a young, charismatic, WWII veteran about their age who painted an incredible vision for their future lose their life so suddenly. Many people became cynical after that day about a lot of things — government, the American Dream, the future — but that wasn’t what my father took out of that tragic day. I think, whether he knew it or not, that’s where his “live life to the fullest” mantra and attitude truly became etched into his being because if it wasn’t for that curiosity and spirit inside of him that inspired him to get into that car that day, he would have never witnessed a treasured piece of American history. After graduation, he spent summers down at the Jersey Shore in the Seagirt area. In the summer of ’69, he was staying at a hotel with friends and went for a dip in the pool. A young woman made an announcement that she needed a fourth for bridge and would anyone mind joining in. My dad hopped out of the pool to take her up on her request and laid eyes upon my mom, Patty Cregan, for the very first time. The two quickly hit it off, exchanged numbers and went their separate ways at the end of the weekend. A few weeks later, my father headed up to one of his favorite places in the world, the Sagamore in Lake George, New York, where he worked every summer since he was a young teenager. He was hanging out at the local bar, the Algonquin, when the bartender told him he had a phone call on the pay phone. He was really confused. No one knew he was in Lake George. Not even his own mother. Who could it be? He picked up the phone. It was my mom. She was at a wedding and was thinking about my dad and remembered he said he liked spending time at the Sagamore and somehow, before Google even existed, she tracked down the phone number to the pay phone at the Algonquin. She wanted to see him again. He was so taken aback by the gesture that he left to see her the next day, and the rest is history. As my parents started their wonderful life together, my dad started to build his career to provide for his growing family. He started working at Allstate Insurance and over the 41 years he was with the company he became one of the top agents in the State of New Jersey with over 7,000 customers. He was consistently ranked the #1 agent in the entire state for customer retention, a testament to his caring nature and magnetic personality. His mission statement as I saw it was to treat everyone the way he would want to be treated. If you were going to save more money by switching to Geico, he would tell you that. He gave everyone the advice that was in THEIR best interest and not his, and people knew it, which is why he was so successful. My father’s hard work enabled him to give his family the opportunities he didn’t have growing up. My siblings and I were so lucky to have what we had, and we have him to thank for that. Because of my dad, we were the first kids in town to have a VCR. We were the first kids on the block to have an Atari. We were the only kids whose house you went to play at that had a Pinball machine. And man, did we have some pretty cool houses. I may not have lived at 63 Lincoln Avenue, may it rest in peace, but I sure wish I did. But more than that, our dad was the person who made sure we woke up on time in the morning, ate breakfast while we listened to him slurp his Wheaties and mangle the Daily Record, drive us to school, coach us in little league or softball, make sure we wore red white and blue on the 4th of July, take us to our tennis lessons, read to us at night, help us with our homework, and sign our tests when we got a bad grade and didn’t want mom to yell at us. When they changed the school busing distance to two miles outside of the school radius, he joined the Board of Education to make sure his voice and the voice of his neighbors were heard. He put all of us through college and none of us ever knew a student loan debt, and he never once asked us for a thank you or recognition of how incredible of a sacrifice and gift that was to all of us. I never said thank you for that. But I’m saying thank you today. Our father’s hard work also enabled him to retire in 2011 and travel the world. My mom and dad had just started to travel more before she got sick, and we are so grateful they had those trips to Ireland, California and cruises together. When our mom passed away in 2009, one of the first things my dad said was that he wanted to travel and do a lot of things, but he didn’t want to be alone. He would soon find out that he wasn’t alone. As he tried to figure out what life looked like without my mom, he started to spend more time at the Brooklake Country Club and developed a close network there that I believe gave him the confidence he needed to rebuild. He also started to spend more time with the Florham Park parents — you know all who you are — and your friendship meant so much to my dad and made him feel so much excitement. And of course he always knew he had two constants. Poker every first Monday night of the month with his guy friends (did he win last Monday??) and Breakfast Club every Saturday morning where he and the crew would solve all the world’s problems over scrambled eggs and coffee at Jerry’s/Ernie’s/TJ’s/Parker House/I’m sure I’m missing 20 other names for that place but after Ernie’s turned into a BBQ place of all things, the meeting of the minds met at Natale’s. As most of you know through him directly and through his Facebook posts, our dad traveled to incredible places these last few years. He went to all four major tennis tournaments which is known as a Grand Slam, Wimbledon, the Australian Open, the French Open, the Kentucky Derby, the British Open, the Masters, the Final Four, as well as Super Bowls and World Series. And I am so incredibly glad that this summer he attended his 40th consecutive U.S. Open, a place that means so much to him and our family. He had quite the extensive bucket list, and the amazing thing is that our trip to Alaska this summer was the last item on that list. Through it all, he documented his travels with pictures and he shared those pictures with us whether we asked to see them or not. But he was always able to draw you in and show you every single picture from start to finish, and in the end, you were always glad you saw them. So many of you have used the most poignant adjectives to describe my dad these few days. Some that jump out at me are words like generous, kind, loving, funny and child-like. But there was one description that has always stuck with me. My friend Judy once described my dad simply as “A Fan”. He was a fan of the New York Yankees. He was a fan of tennis. He was a fan of golf. We know these things. But the truth is, he was a fan of everyone. He was a fan of the Red Socks. He was a fan of the last person he spoke with on the phone, and I assure you he would hang up the phone and tell us about whatever it was that you were up to. He was a fan of Blake Shelton who he didn’t know from a hole in the wall when we went to go see him a few weeks ago for Alyson’s birthday. But literally not even two minutes into the concert I looked over and he was instantaneously uploading his pictures to Facebook to share with everyone because he was already a fan. But most of all, he was a fan of his four children who would go on to give him the gift of five amazing grandchildren who lifted up his spirit and gave him more joy than he could have ever imagined. Timmy, as his only son, you were so unique and special to our father. While your passions were different than dad’s, he immediately became a fan of whatever it was that you were doing. There was no one who thought more highly of your acting skills and your enormous creativity than dad. He was so proud of your performances, he was so excited about the prospect of telling people about his son’s documentary and sharing that IMBD page, and he was proud of the man you’ve become. You brought light and humor into his life. You were always surprising and challenging him, and you always managed to make him experience something he would have never experienced or felt if it wasn’t for you just being you. I will never forget the day you made him skip. He wanted to skip for you and your documentary. I didn’t even think he could skip. And it was incredible to see my father skip with his grandchildren. He was especially proud of the smart, sweet, handsome son Lucas you and Jennie are doing an amazing job raising. Tracy, dad thought so highly of you and was in awe of how you do it all and make it all look so easy. He would tell me almost everyday about one of the small miracles you performed — whether it was planting flowers at the town pool or making personalized pancakes for the kids’ birthdays that morning. Your decision to move to Florham Park and become a part of the community and joining Holy Family I think brought dad back to the community as well. He cherished coming to church with you and the girls every Sunday. It may have been your idea at first, but he came to rely upon it and even on the Sundays you couldn’t make it, he would still be here. It wasn’t just a tradition with you girls, reconnecting with this place meant something to him. You brought him back to this place that meant so much to him over the years. I am so glad that he had this in the last few years of his life, and it’s because of you that you made today and this moment even more meaningful for all of us as we honor his life because we’re more connected to this place than we were before you moved back home. He was so proud of the home that you and Jim created, but most of all he was proud of how intelligent Katie is, how thoughtful Shannon is and how funny James is. Alyson, dad was without a doubt your biggest fan. He traveled far and wide to see your softball games and tennis matches and was so proud of your accomplishments. You were the athlete and the US Open runner he could live through vicariously and he loved you for your courage, your fearlessness, your independent streak, your dedication and energy. You followed in his footsteps and started working at Allstate with him, and I’m so happy he got to teach one of us his craft and that he had the opportunity to show his work ethic to one of his children. I don’t think you’ll ever understand the gift that you gave him by working with him and staying with his business even after he retired. You still helped him feel connected to the business he invested so much of his heart and soul into, and not many people get that opportunity. He was so proud of you and absolutely cherished your amazingly strong, bright, angelic daughter Arabella who brightened his day instantaneously. For me, the thing I admired most about my dad was his ability to walk into a room full of strangers and come out with a countless number of new friends. I try to live up to that and always feel like I will never be able to, but I know that even trying to be more like him in that vain will get me places I would have never gotten to otherwise. And it already has. I’ve had more amazing personal and professional moments than I could have ever imagined I was capable of having because of the opportunities my father gave me. He taught me that it's not always about who you know - it's about who you are - because he showed me that you can be successful in this life if you care about people, love what you do and work hard. I called my dad almost everyday on my way home from work. Everyday on my way home during our conversations, I would hit a dead spot at the same place on the backroads I take home. It became a running joke and we would wait for me to hit the “dead spot”, the moment when our conversation would go black and I would have to call him back. One week ago today, we were talking to my dad one minute and then not the next. We all hit a dead spot. We won’t be able to call him back. And it’s really hard for us to wrap our heads around that and accept it. But I hope you can all take comfort in knowing that two days before he died, I picked him up from the airport. He was so happy and excited. He had just gotten back from Defiance, where as a member of the Board of Trustees he celebrated the inauguration of their new president and homecoming with his fraternity brothers. He was on an absolute high, had a million pictures of the occasion and had the best weekend ever. We talked about the appointment that he had on Tuesday, and he was looking forward to seeing specialists and getting a handle on his health issues. I didn't know it at the time, but that would be the appointment he would walk through the door to attend and never walk back out. And I’m not the only one who just saw him or had plans with him. All I’ve been hearing since he passed was that “I just saw Tim or have plans with him.” While I wasn’t ready for him to go and I know you weren’t either, I wouldn’t have wanted his ending to go any other way. He inspired all of us all to live life to its fullest, and he was doing just that and on his terms right before he left us. And most importantly, he’s reunited with my mom. I hope they’re gathered around a kitchen table similar to ours up there catching up on everything that’s happened over the last seven years and reminiscing about the amazing times they had together over 39 years. And that conversation will go on forever. I think I speak for my siblings when I say that I am going to miss you asking me “how’s your dad” and having a new, crazy answer that could only be a story that would happen to my dad. Thank you for appreciating him, listening to his stories, looking at his pictures, sharing in his traditions and being a part of his life. We know that he was a part of yours too. We didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but in this process, we all learned a valuable lesson about what to do with our time on this earth while we are still here. He reminded me, and I hope this goes for you too, that the American Dream does still exist because our dad lived it. And that should give us all hope because we can all have it if we use the opportunities we are given to live life to its fullest.