Joe Widak's Funeral

For those of you who were not able to attend Joe's Funeral, we hope that this page allows you to participate.

Joe's Eulogy given by John Tschombor

I met Joseph Widak 45 years  ago on Main Street, across from St. Stephen's Church. At that time he was known in our community as, "Der Yoshi". Everyone knew "Der Yoshi"; the cute kid with the protruding ears who would tell wild unbelievable stories with such style and enthusiasm that it simply amazed everyone. As the years progressed, we knew him as the "Wiedicher Widak". Later, he would still possess his youthful charm but he came equipped with added features. He was the perennial man's man, a combination of Jackie Gleason and Wolfman Jack with a Donau Schwaebishe flair. 

He smoked, drank Dr. Pepper and caroused. Joe knew he had faults but he just enjoyed his vices too much. He went to the Schick Center to cure his smoking. The treatment, he said, consisted of smoking two packs of cigarettes in rapid succession in one hour. Joseph thoroughly enjoyed this and questioned how this would stop his smoking! One day, while working on a Porsche, with a cigarette in his mouth, the fuel line broke and gas drenched his body. His burning cigarette ignited the fuel and he was immersed in flames. They rolled him in a carpet to douse the flames. He was then transported to Sherman Oaks Burn Center by helicopter. He later bragged that he was in the same room as Michael Jackson when they did his skin grafts. Needless to say, this did not cure his addiction.

Joe's occasional choice of drink, other than Dr. Pepper, was Peppermint Schnapps. The reason he said is that, "it freshens your breath and it's easily transportable. You can pour it into an Arrowhead bottle and take it everywhere!"

Although Joe was an excellent mechanic and salesman, he always wanted to be a cop. He said, "if I was a cop, I would work in the vice squad and bust hookers all day. The ugly ones I would throw in jail and the pretty ones I'd let go."

The south central riots of 1992 proved to be a field day for Joe Widak. While south central was ablaze, Joe and I came to secure the Hickory Sweet building. He gave me his video camera to record the incident as he came barging into the building with drawn gun urging the people to disperse.

Joe was a compulsively neat person. No blade of grass or leaf was allowed on his lawn. Of the 49 cars that he owned in his 49 years of life, all had to be in good condition. His 500 model cars had to be dust free and arranged just right. His magazines had to be straight. Joe's crowning achievement at the end of the day would be to hose off the patios and sidewalk. "Ich bin direkt matt. Ich hab' grat abgespritzt", he would say. After Mike and his friends had smoked, he would always say to them, "pick up your ashes."

Beyond the superficial and glitz of Joseph there lies the true Joseph. Joseph was always around when people needed him. If you needed advice about your car or it needed fixing, Joe would be there. If you accidentally ended up in jail and your wife just didn't understand, Joe would be there. If you needed a black coat for your best friend's funeral, Joe would be there. If your son was drowning in a pool and you weren't aware of it because you were flirting, Joe would be there.

Joe's love for his family was immense and sometimes exceeded the bounds of normal endurance. He cared for his dying father and uncle in his own house. He took in his mother, who is currently afflicted with terminal Alzheimer's Disease. "Kenst mich nicht Mutti?", he would say. "Ich bin der Joshi". She looked him in the eye and started crying. She was crying not for herself but for her son. I believe that she sensed her son's dire fate. "Nicht weine Mutti, es wert alles gut", he told her. As we came out of the house, he told me, "my mother will out live me John." I said, "you're crazy Joseph, we have too much to look forward to - too many things to do still." "The only thing I have to look forward to is my coffin, John", he replied.

The Sunday after Christmas was the Feast of The Holy Family. I went to church hoping to find some comfort as Joseph lay dying in the hospital. The doctors had just told him that he had two weeks to live. Not once did he wince or shed a tear. His courage was astounding. Father O'Connor's sermon centered on a man called Joseph. "What a wonderful world this would be if all fathers patterned their lives after this man. He cared for the family and later quietly left the scene." As the congregation began leaving, an elderly lady came forward and said, "you know my daughter just had a baby last night." I said, "congratulations." She continued, "Oh, it's ironic because she named the baby Joseph. I think it's wonderful name." "Yes" I said, "Joseph is a wonderful name". That night, Joseph and I watched the Sound of Music. It was centered in Austria, his homeland. As the nun began her song, he quietly began to sing along with the nun. I asked him, "You know this song?" "Of course, I've seen the movie before". He fell asleep singing with the nun.

The following Sunday was the Feast of The Three Kings. I was once again hoping to find a message, but the picture of the Three Kings bringing gifts didn't seem to fit into my agenda. I was proven wrong this time by Father Page. As he finished reading the gospel, he said, "a line in the gospel that we rarely pay attention to is the last line - they took another way home. There are different ways to reach the Lord", he said "some are conventional and some through an alternative route. Joseph was such a man who took the alternative route". His love and care for his family, friends and cars led him to that alternative route. Life has indeed meaning. If it had no meaning, we would not be here mourning our brother. The love that Joseph gave us and that we gave him was real. It is a true love an everlasting love, a love so great that it transcends generations into Michael and Chris. Joseph Widak has gone home the alternative way.

I told you Joseph that the time would come when one of us had to bury the other. That time has come too soon.

                                                             *****

If anyone else would like to share their memories of Joe, please send me an e-mail and I will be sure to post it. Karl Seitz