Remembering Ewell Hudson Mohler, Jr.

My grandfather, Ewell Hudson Mohler, Jr., passed away on Wednesday, September 19.

Yesterday, my family held a small ceremony at Fairfax Memorial Park. My remarks at his graveside are below. I hope they can help convey what he meant to me and honor his memory.

My mother Jenny and her two brothers, Joseph and Matthew, had just finished telling some incredible stories from their teenage years. My cousin Jeannine also spoke. We’re the two oldest grandchildren and we both lived with my grandfather for a few years. “Marlborough Road” is how we refer to the home they’ve lived in for the past few decades

So I think Ewell’s kids must have sufficiently chilled him out by the time I really got to know Ewell.

A gift that my mom gave me was taking me down to Virginia a lot as a child to hang out at Marlborough Road and we’d probably go once a month or  once every other month. And I remember as a really young child an intense sadness every time we had to leave and go back to New Jersey. And I remember looking around the house and just kind of singing a sad song to myself because they just showered me with unconditional love. And all their grandchildren. Wow, have they showered us with unconditional love. And Ewell included, in his own way. He wasn’t always a deeply outwardly affectionate man, but that affection he had for all of us was so evident in his actions and his deeds and his words, too.

I had this unique privilege of living with my grandparents at Marlborough Road right after I got out of college because I was going to be working in the region. So of course, no questions asked, no rent, here’s free food and housing, you know, you’re our grandchild. And Jeannine had a very similar experience in college going to Mason. That’s a really neat way to get to know your grandparents because it’s not a situation where it’s your birthday, it’s Christmas or it’s a holiday. You’re really there every day getting to know how they live with each other and how they live their life day to day. It became an incredible gift because in a way Ewell became like my buddy. He became just this older guy that I knew who also happened to be my grandfather.

And there’s this conversation we had at dinner one night. I had just gotten started doing the 9 to 5 thing and you know, you go to high school you go to college and everyone says get the degree and get this degree and everything is going to be great. There’s this pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and it’s going to be great. And you get to work and, well, I’m sitting at a desk all day, there’s fluorescent lights over me and I’m sitting around in meetings and I’m on the phone and sending emails all day and this doesn’t feel right. And it’s eight hours every day. So I’m saying something along these lines, which, of course, a lot of 22 year old people say, but that perked Ewell up. And it was one of the very few times he just dropped his knife on the table — CLINK — and me and Joan got silent and we look at him and he goes, “Son. Work’s not fun. It’s something you do.”

And it just immediately hit me how much sense that made. And I thought how did I get through high school and college and no one ever told me that who was, like, paid to teach me. But here was Ewell with his wisdom and he was able to pass that on.

I love that phrase. It’s just something you do.

And like Joe and Matt and Jenny have conveyed, Ewell was always doing something. He was constantly in motion. And I think of what Joe said a little bit like he was always reshaping little pieces of the world around him to make them work better. It didn’t matter how big or small his world was. He was going to fix all these little things. He was going to address them. And he did it in such a deliberate, patient way.

And that’s one of the greatest lessons he passed onto me was the value of patience. Because I’m nowhere near as patient a person as he is. And I’ll always carry that with me whenever I’m doing things.

I think so much of how Ewell is a part of me and all his children and grandchildren. I mean at the literal level, we’ve got Ewell DNA in all of us. Right? We look a little bit like Ewell, we act a little bit like Ewell, we have a little bit of Ewell’s hair, a little bit of his gait. There’s a little something about us all where we can just see it. It’s Ewell.

By getting to know him, additionally, what I’ll be able to do is carry Ewell with me for the rest of my life as I go about doing things. And at his core because of that patience and that deliberation he is the most moral man I have ever met. And it was the thinking that went into everything that made him moral.

So his heart still beats inside mine. Still beats inside all of us. And his mind lives on in every decision we make because we carry with us everything that he taught us.

So every time I try to reshape some little part of the world around me, I know Ewell is going to be with me.

And I love him so much and I love you all so much.

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Ewell

My grandmother, grandfather and me.

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Ewell Hudson Mohler, Jr. December 29, 1929 to September 19, 2012.

6 thoughts on “Remembering Ewell Hudson Mohler, Jr.”

  1. I was sad to see this article. I am your second cousin. Ewell (Uncle Sonny) was my fathers brother. I and my brothers and sister were raised in North Carolina so we were not able to know our cousins or aunt and uncle on an intimate level. I do have one memory of Uncle Sonny of a time he visited our home, I was 18 or 19 years old (I am 51 now). We were sitting in the family room watching tv and turned to an HBO channel. He was in disbelief of what he saw on television and I could tell that he felt uncomfortable. I don’t recall what it was but I will always remember his reaction. I saw an innocence in him and it was touching. So when I think of Uncle Sonny I always think of that moment.

    My condolences, I am sorry for your loss.

    1. Hello, Lorraine. Thanks for your note. Ewell’s sense of ethics ran very deep, indeed. I don’t know who my grandmother has been in touch with from the rest of the Mohler family. If you’d like, you can email me at aaronhuertasATgmail.com and I’d be happy to put you in touch with her.

  2. My sister Lorraine told me about the passing of your grandfather Ewell today. I was so sorry to hear of your family’s loss. The love and devotion that each one of you had for Ewell was so evident. You were so right about your comment that Ewell’s actions, deeds and words showed his love and affection for others. I witnessed this first hand each time I saw him with his mother, Estelle Mohler. How fortunate you have been to have had Ewell make such a big impact on your life.

    Please convey my condolences to the rest of your family.

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