I'd like to share a line from a song that helped me many times in different situations in the past year . . .

"Won't you look down upon me, Jesus, you got to help me make a stand? Just got to see me through another day.
My body's aching and my time is at hand. I just won't make it any other way."

Gus Wiesinger was the son of first-generation German-Americans. His father was a tool and die maker and restaurant owner. He was a big brother to two beautiful sisters, Eleanor and Sara.

He was a Lambda Chi- a helluva guy.

He was an industrial engineer with the Federal Government for over 30 years. His close friends thought this enabled him to build bombs in the basement.

He was caring, and married a wonderful wife who stuck by his side until the end.

He was a fisherman, a Senior Advisor to the Indianapolis Flycasters. However, this trait was not genetic. His four sons are not fisherman. They are strapping, handsome, intelligent, young men (in most cases!)

To those four sons he dispersed valuable advice:

1. "Baseball sucks!"
2. "Don't force anything."
3. "Don't volunteer for anything."

Nonetheless, he helped cook Gus-burgers at the Christ the King Festival, although they were not named for him.

He loved attending the Indiana State High School Basketball Finals. He attended almost all of these in the past 40 years, and years ago used to travel up to Indy with his Evansville friends.

He loved to watch me play soccer. I'm not sure that he ever missed one of my games. He was always there to support me and telling the coach, I should play more, or to tell the referee that someone took the ball from his son.

He had many great friends from Evansville, Naval Avionics, Christ the King, Indianapolis Flycasters, the Ghetto, and the Knights of Columbus and 1 supportive and loving daughter-in-law.

He was strong. I always remember his broad shoulders and his large hands. Only in the last year, he began to look frail and weak.

He was soft like a teddy bear. Some of his most enjoyable moments in his last years were with his grandchildren, Hayden and Natalie, on his knee.

Or at a Pacers game. Of course, he was a Pacers fan. He'll never forgive the Pacers for getting rid of his wife's favorite player, but he still stuck by them in his own way.Donnie Walsh may wanna look out though!

He was a grumpy old man. In a Walter Matthau-esque way, he could produce an ear-to-ear grin at any time.

He never saw a referee, in any sport that he liked. He'd always say, "I wanna see that one again."

He had courage. He fought so gallantly against an enemy he did not know. I have seen someone fight to keep themselves alive because they were dying too young. But I believe that Gus was staying alive for the last part of his life for all of us here. He had to be. To lie in that bed for as long as he did, with the pain, it had to be for us. So, we could enjoy him just a little bit more.

I know that he is looking down at us right now. He's with Oma and Opa, Mark Wiesinger, Walter Hayden, Garbo, Larry Valant and Julie Leahy. They are all toasting us with a can of Stroh's.

He was the Goose, Big Gussie, Hosafat and Sonny.But, I'm most proud to be up here today to tell you that Gus Wiesinger was my dad.