One of the world’s most loving men passed away on Thursday, May 30, 2013. Surrounded by his wife, children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, George Udell Sharp, 94, found his wings and soared. No longer tethered by the pains and cares of this world, he left behind his wife of 67 years, Roberta, his children Crystal Burnette, Alyce Reuter, Udell (Shelley) Sharp, Barbara (Larry) Dana, William (Eva) Sharp, Paul Sharp and Rene Van Meter. He was preceded in death by his eldest daughter, Martha. George was also survived by 23 grandchildren and 33 great-grandchildren.
On April 29, 1919, he was born in Richland County, Wisconsin to William Sharp & Barbara Leffler Sharp. George enlisted in the US Army on August 7, 1941, and was aboard the Empire Javelin when it was sunk in the English Channel. He served for the duration of WWII, and returned to marry his sweetheart. Until he moved to Montana in 1965, he was a dairy farmer. After he quit farming, he worked at the Bouma Post Yard (Lincoln, MT) for many years before moving to Charlo where he worked as the night foreman for the Western Bee factory (Polson, MT). Upon retirement, he and his wife spent many years “snow-birding” in Arizona, South Carolina and California. Before finally settling in Helena, he was an avid traveler of the United States visiting 48 of the 50 states.
He was known by many and loved by all. While working at Western Bee, he hired his youngest son, Paul, who continues to say that Dad was the best boss he’s ever had. He continually stood up for the underdog, and was always willing to help or counsel in some way. Paul tries to emulate Dad’s style in his own managerial career, as we all attempt to live by the high standards he set. It is rare to find a man so kind, open hearted, and honest who was always ready with a quirky joke, supportive words and a big hug. Even the most solid rock eventually gets worn down by the ravages of time. He was our rock; always there, steadfast, unwavering in his support. We’ll miss the twinkle in his eyes and his irrepressible mischievous grin. Love is his legacy.
A memorial service celebrating George’s life will be held at 2:00 p.m. Tuesday, June 11, 2013 at the Helena Valley Baptist Church, 1315 Sierra Road East. Military honors will follow the memorial service in the circle at Montana State Veterans Cemetery at Fort Harrison; George’s grandson, Joseph Fitzgerald, will be a part of the military honor guard. A reception will follow the military honors in the social hall at Helena Valley Baptist Church.
Service Schedule
Memorial Service
2:00 p.m.
Tuesday June 11, 2013
Helena Valley Baptist church
1315 Sierra Road
Helena , Montana 59602
Burial with Military Honors
3:15 p.m.
Tuesday June 11, 2013
Mock Burial Fort Harrison Inner Circle
Fort Harrison , Montana
Reception
4:00 p.m.
Tuesday June 11, 2013
Helena Valley Baptist Church
1315 Sierra Road
Helena , Mt 59602
Service Schedule
Memorial Service
2:00 p.m.
Tuesday June 11, 2013
Helena Valley Baptist church
1315 Sierra Road
Helena , Montana 59602
Burial with Military Honors
3:15 p.m.
Tuesday June 11, 2013
Mock Burial Fort Harrison Inner Circle
Fort Harrison , Montana
Reception
4:00 p.m.
Tuesday June 11, 2013
Helena Valley Baptist Church
1315 Sierra Road
Helena , Mt 59602
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William Newton Sharp says
I held Dad’s hand,
after the monitor beeped.
He opened his eyes and called out my name.
As he looked at me,
I knew it was recognition, not a pleading.
He knew it was time,
his brow was not furrowed.
His face showed no fear.
Even though he was ready,
he still struggled on.
Waiting for Mom,
still fighting to give us,
the one thing he couldn’t.
He finally let go, after all of us gathered,
finding the rest that he longed for.
I gave him directions, as we waited,
Half way down rough go,
Up the side of the mountain,
Up in Annadale.
Up to the spot where I knew Paul was sitting,
Waiting to see him. waiting to show him.
Sitting on that big old black rock.
I know he went there,
And found Paul waiting,
Doing his best, as he taught him to do.
All my life I’ve tried to do what Dad taught me. I only hope I didn’t disappoint too much.
Crystie Burnette says
As we share our memories of my grandfather, I can’t help but think back to one of my earliest memories of him. I was 4 or so and Grandpa had spent an afternoon with me and dropped me off at home. I ran to my mom saying ” Grandpa and Grandma must be rich because they buy me a happy meal every time we go to McDonald’s!” How right I was; however, it wasn’t his ability to buy me a happy meal that made him rich, but his ability to make you feel special and loved. His riches were us, his family and the love that we share. If at the end of my life I am half as rich as he then I will be wealthy indeed.
Paul Sharp says
Even the most solid rock eventually gets worn down by the ravages of time.
He was our rock; always there, steadfast, unwavering in his support.
But I believe in an instant he became infinitely lighter,
no longer tethered by pains and cares to this world,
even while those of us left behind feel so much heavier,
he drifted away at first, then found his wings and soared…
As a child he infected me with his curiosity about the mystery of life.
I read many of his books about ancient aliens, mysterious happenings, the strange and unexplained.
Although he was never a “believer” he always found these stories immensely entertaining. He led me to ask the deep questions:
Where did we come from? Why are we here? Where do we go? I believe he knows the answers to these questions now.
When I first tried and failed to attend university, he welcomed me back home and got me a job.
He was the best boss I have ever had bar none. I had always thought of my Dad as an amiable dunce;
kind of a Homer Simpson character. Then I went to work for him. He managed a plant with dozens of employees and a myriad
of machines. He took raw material in one door and shipped a finished product out another: Reliably, repeatedly,
on time and under budget year in and year out. But that was not what was impressive. What blew me away was that
every single one of those employees loved him. I don’t mean that like people are always saying he was loved.
I mean one after another of those employees would say to me that I was “so lucky” to have him as a father. They told me
that he was literally the “best” boss they ever worked for. They said my father was a “great” man. And they regaled me
with stories of how he had stood up to the big boss to keep someone from being fired. How he had stepped in when
someone was getting teased. It seemed there wasn’t a soul that worked for him who he hadn’t helped or counseled in some way.
Even the hard-ass rednecks, and there were several, had nothing but good things to say about him, and they hated everyone.
And of course all of the women I thought of as “old ladies” at the time were in love with him. I know they were especially
nice to me just to try and impress him. Although I try to emulate his style in my own career as a manager I know
I will always fall short, yet still I try.
I guess if I had to name one thing that I would want people to remember about my Papa it would be that he was the kind
of guy who always stood up for the little guy, I know this because I was the little guy.
Crystal Sharp Burnette says
Dad was always my rock–my safe port for the storms of life. Every summer I made the journey from South Carolina to Montana to get my “Dad fix”. Even though he could not hear, he could talk, and talk we did. Dad talking and me answering on the slate. He would tell me stories about his life, and I treasure that time I had with him.
Dad was so giving of his love, his advice, and his time. He was quiet and shy in a crowd, but a lion inside. He had this little sideways grin and twinkle in his eyes that I miss already.
When he was retired, before he could no longer travel, he and mom would spend the winters in South Carolina with me and my family. My children got to know their grandpa, and had a relationship with him they would not have had otherwise. I have many happy memories of hours of playing (and getting beat) at the game of pinochle. We played partners, Dad and my husband, and mom and me. Sometimes I know he felt sorry for us and let us win.
I have so many wonderful memories of dad from when we lived in Wisconsin. We were definitely not rich–there were 10 of us all together, but I did not realize just how poor we were. We had what we needed, a loving mother and father. Wisconsin being a cold state in the winter, Dad always found the money to get us used ice skates so we could skate either on the pond in the woods or the rink he made in the back yard. Every spring, dad would cut down the sumac to make stakes so we could tap the maple sugar trees. He tapped trees and when we kids would come home from school we would empty the buckets into a big wash tub outside. Dad dug a fire pit and all day mom would feed the fire and stir the syrup until it boiled down. Then she would can it in quart jars so we had syrup for the pancakes all year long. Just about every Saturday morning, we knew Dad would make us pancakes for breakfast….not the round, ordinary kind, but rabbits and smiley faces and pancake men, all decorated up with raisins.
Dad loved music. He played the guitar and harmonica. It always amazed me that he could tune the guitar to a song he heard on the radio and play along before the song went off. He sang all kinds of silly songs to us as we were growing up…songs like “Wait for the Wagon”, “Rubber Dolly”, ” Little Brown Jug”, “Here Rattler, Here”, “Riding Down the Canyon” and so many more. The one song I hated hearing was “Goodnight Irene” because I knew it was time to put the guitar up and we had to go to bed. Eventually dad went deaf and could not hear music. I know that bothered him. I also know that where he is now, he can hear, and can walk without fear of falling, and is without any pain. Who knows, maybe he is sitting up in heaven, singing with the angels.
Alyce Reuter says
Dad was one of the most giving persons I’ve ever known. He never asked for anything for himself. I feel so fortunate to have had the last almost 5 years living with him and mom. He would always tell me I was here to help mom, not him, no matter how many times I told him they came as a pair. Many times these last few years he told me his goal was to outlive mom because he knew how hard it would be for her and us with him gone. That explains his last words to me–“I am sorry, I am sorry, I am so sorry. I tried, I really tried.” Even while he was dying, he was only concerned about the needs of others.
Dad was the rock that held our family together. We could always know that he was there for each of us, yet seemed surprised when we all came with love and concern for him to Arizona when he had his heart attack. I remember him telling all his friends there that his kids must really love him because all 8 of us came and helped him and mom at that time.
As he sat in his silent world these last 5 years, he spent many hours going over and over how he fathered each one of us and the mistakes all parents can see in hindsight. He would tell me how he did what he thought was best at the time. He tried so hard to be a good parent to each of his children.
He loved to sit and tell us the stories of his life, and there were so many in his 94 years. He always said he led a full life, and was content with what he was and what he had done. He spent his life with concern for others, not himself. I will always treasure my time with him, especially these last five years when I could actually give back to him some of the love and care he so freely gave all of us. Where my siblings will now have a large hole in their lives with his passing, he was my whole life these last 5 years, and I will treasure that time forever.
He loved music so much. He would tell me how being deaf he could deal with, but not hearing music was so hard. We spent so many hours together as a family with his guitar and singing and him playing his harmonica. He also had a great love for reading. He bemoaned the fact that because of his macular degeneration, he could no longer read his beloved westerns, his favorite Louis L’Amour. He loved Steven King, science fiction, and mysteries. We took many trips to the used book store to trade the read ones for new ones.
I have so many many fond memories of him, of the special alone time he made for each of us all through the years. And his sense of humor which he kept until the very end. Dad told me many times about life situations, that you could laugh or you could cry, and he would rather laugh because it felt better. He would not want us to cry for him now, but to laugh as we remember our time with him, knowing he is in a better place–singing with the angels.
Kennedy Knapp by Alyce says
One of the Thursdays that we kept Kennedy while Udell was at Bible Study she had me read her Brown Bear and then G G (Bobbe) read her Brown Bear and then she took the book and climbed in Dads Lap and he read her Brown Bear. She watched us write on the white board and hand it to Dad. So she would also scribble on the white board and hand it to Dad. He would always tell her he couldn’t read her writing. If he only knew she was writing I Love You.
Yesterday she looked at his picture and said, “That is my grandpa. I want to see him.” Then she looked so sad and she cried. She is only 2 but she knows he is gone and she misses him already.
Ginger Vellourys says
Do you remember:
The huge pot of oyster stew on Christmas weekend
Looking for Will. –and found him at the neighbors
Ice fishing and ice skating
Remember Zippy the beagle
Telling spooky stories in the back bedroom while the adults played cards
eating lots of popcorn and watching Combat on TV
Uncle George was rarely the focus of our attention but he was always a bit of laughter and normalcy to our world. Alyce, to you and all your family my deepest sympathies on the loss of your father. He was a place of calm in a chaotic world to me as a child. He was a kind and peaceful man and one of my father’s closest friends. The card games on Saturday nights will always be a fond memory. Once or twice your dad brought us honey comb and blueberries from a “secret place”– his humor and good will thus displayed.
Jason Francis says
What is it that makes a man wealthy? Many people would say it is money and possessions that makes a person wealthy. But there is a wealth that goes beyond coin and collection, and that is family. Family was always the most important thing to him, and in a family that can gather 20 people with three or four phone calls, grandpa was the wealthiest man I knew. We will all miss the Partiarch of this great family.
Pierce Burnette says
I guess I really didn’t really know my great grandfather for so many years of my life and his. I do have a few memories though. When I was younger I didn’t really talk to him. I didn’t like having to yell all the time to talk to someone. When I got older, though, all of the things you guys have pointed out I started noticing: the twinkle in his eyes, his great smile, his love for family. I noticed other things too: how he was humorous and funny at times even with his lack of hearing. Also that he was a loving guy and if you got to know him he always welcomed you into his home.
I guess I don’t really have any exact memories of him. This is sad because from what I can remember of him he was a great father, grandfather, and even great grandfather. Now I wish I had gotten to spend more time with him, especially with all the stories our family have told.
R.I.P. George Sharp, a great man.
The Emmert Sharp Family says
We are all very sorry to see the passing of Uncle George. We have the best and warmest memories of George, Bobbie, and all our cousins. Please accept the condolences of George’s younger brother’s entire family. Laura and I will attend services on Tuesday, and it is possible that Mindy Sharp Harwood may return to Montana in time to also attend. We all remember George with great fondness. He will be missed and well remembered by us all. — Tracy Sharp
Rene Sharp Van Metr says
My father advised me to never rely on a man to take care of me. From him, I developed my independence.
My father counseled me to look for humor in every situation. From him, I learned to laugh at life’s adversities.
My father welcomed everyone with open arms. From him, I learned the expansiveness of love.
My father’s most valuable lesson, I believe, was to live a simple life filled with love. In his last days, he was surrounded by love–how could it have been any different? I will always love you, Daddy. Thank you for being such a good man.
Barbara Dana says
I love reading all the memories of Dad and I too have many wonderful memories of my father. But in the months before and during the hours of his passing, I struggled not with his past but with his future. My oldest daughter, Jasmin, had given Dad the plan of salvation. I had written a letter to him begging him to join us that believe in heaven. He would never say what he believed because he didn’t want to offend anyone. I don’t either but this has been my experience and it may comfort some, so I will share. During his last moments in the hospital, I had the strong urge to sing and I asked Jasmin what we should sing. She said that “How Great Thou Art” was his favorite hymn and so we all sang it. Then, at the family viewing, they played music (some of it quite bad and we almost turned it off). Right before we left, with many already out of the room, they played “How Great Thou Art”. I told Shelley, my sister, that was a hug from God. But I still was concerned about where Dad was — I believe our souls are eternal. Where was he? The next week, I attended my niece’s church. The very first song they sang was “How Great Thou Art”! I asked who chose the music; it wasn’t Crystie, my niece. The song leader’s wife had chosen the song earlier in the week. In the Bible, when God speaks, quite often he calls out three times. This was the third time the song was given to us. I still had not written for his web site, so I talked to my daughter, Halle. She said, “Write a verse from the Bible that will comfort you — pick something from Isaiah, it’s your favorite book of the Bible.” So I opened to Isaiah and the first verse I read was Isaiah 7:14. “Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign. . .” Now I know that verse is about Jesus but I claim it as my confirmation that Dad is in heaven. That he will be there when Mom joins him and that heaven will be all the more sweeter because Daddy will be there.
Lara Van Meter says
Even though there were an astounding 23 grandchildren (not to mention great-grandchildren!) for Grandpa to pay attention to, somehow Grandpa George always managed to make each and every one of us feel special. I’ll always remember him singing and telling stories to us, and I will miss him greatly.
Barb Campbell and Jan Budd says
Our memories of Uncle George are of a man who was the kindest and gentlest person we ever knew. We, too, remember the twinkle in his eyes and his smile. We remember the many times we had so much fun together as families having Sunday dinners, your whole family performing, and listening to Uncle George play the guitar and singing. Our mom, Dorothy, often talked lovingly of her little brother George and remembered the fun times they had as children. We are sorry he is gone.