Farewell to Dave

The Rosary
On Thursday evening, at Dave’s home parish in Covina, St. Louise de Marillac, the viewing and memorial rosary was held. Pastor Larry Dowdel gave a moving homily and the evening ended with a reception hosted by the parish that included refreshments and a showing of the Memorial Video remembering Dave’s life.



The Funeral
On a beautiful, sunny day in Los Angeles, we said farewell to Dave. His funeral service, at the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angeles, was an inspiring event. The mass was celebrated by His Eminence, Cardinal Roger Mahony, and concelebrated by the Most Reverend Gabino Zavala, Auxiliary Bishop of the San Gabriel Valley Region and Fr. Larry Dowdel, with Deacon Gus Sebenius and Deacon Al Valles Assisting.

Joanne Cauley (Dave’s niece who flew in from Furman University in Greenville, SC) and Cathedral Canter, Charles Lane provided music during the mass and Dave’s neighbors, Dominique, Angelique, & Emma Calvillo, provided music before the celebration.

The mass was served by Dave’s grandson Brian Conley, nephew Brandon Amaro, great-nephew Alex Tobin, and family friend, Charlie Ridder. Children aren’t my favorite things on this earth but I would be remiss if I did not comment on Brandon.

Brandon is the youngest son of my sister Peggy, and was around so faithfully during Dave’s illness. He is truly one of the most courageous, insightful, giving, and kind people I have ever known, and my eyes welled with tears of pride as he held the books of prayer for the Cardinal. We all experienced a sense of helplessness as there was so little any of us could do for Dave, but Brandon never stopped trying.

Since the 1980's, Dave attended daily Mass at 6:20 am. He acquired a close group of friends that also celebrated mass each day; we called them the "Six-Twenties". The Six-Twenties were Eucharistic Ministers for the Mass.

Eulogies were given by John Conley, Dave’s son-in-law, and me.

After the mass, a reception was held in the Cathedral Conference Center with another showing of the Video Memorial courtesy of family friend, Jones Gaillard.

As this will probably be my final blog entry, I’m able to take some liberties probably not appropriate until now.

Thank You!
The last 58 days were a difficult time for those of us close to Dave. We watched as a vibrant, healthy husband, father, brother, leader, and friend slipped from our worlds. It was a time of hope, laughter, tears, and prayers. I stand in awe over the number of people who visited Dave at this bedside, wrote emails or cards, made comments on this blog, or attended his final services.

I got to know many of Dave’s friends through his illness, and I now realize why Dave treasured them so much. I am still awed how many truly kind and wonderful people Dave knew.

My circle of friends supported me continuously, sometimes with only a nod or smile, that let me know it would all be ok.

The ALTMANS WINNEBAGO family of employees was also extremely supportive during the challenging times of Dave’s illness and passing and their immense efforts kept the company operating while my attentions were often focused on Dave.

It is difficult to express the courage shown by my six sisters and their families. The eight weeks of Dave’s illness affected each of us differently and there was never a time when any of us, including Dave, felt alone.

Dave’s children were beacons of light and were always there for me to lean on. Their encouragement was unending, even though there were times it would have been easy for any of them to withdraw.

Dave’s wife Marla deserves credit beyond words. She handled this trying time with so much poise and grace, and her resolve gave many of us the strength to persevere.


My Final Words
On Thursday night, I was extremely nervous, asking myself why I had offered to give a eulogy. There was so much I wanted to tell the world about Dave, yet I was equally anxious about not being able to speak in front of such an audience at such a sacred and hallowed venue.

When it was over, the comments of those to whom I spoke were so thoughtful that I am forever grateful.

Technology can be a wonderful part of our lives. This Weblog (blog) has allowed me to share my journey during Dave's final steps on this planet. It as also given me a window through which to view the impression Dave made on those he touched.

For those of you who attended the Rosary or Funeral Reception, the Video Memorial was shown. If you would like to view it, or see it again, enter http://web.mac.com/jonezin/iWeb/Site/Dave%20Altman.html into your web browser. It is a 17 minute movie and takes about 6 minutes to download at DSL speeds. Make sure your speakers are on.

--Joe Altman

The Eulogies
Eulogy by John Conley
John Conley gave an insightful viewing of Dave’s role as a father and grandfather. The text of that eulogy will be posted here when I receive it.

My Eulogy
Good Morning. Cardinal Mahony, thank you for being here today. You've shown extraordinary kindness and compassion to our family through the course of Dave’s illness.

I humbly stand before a gathering of what my brother Dave would consider the “crowned kings and queens of his life”. On behalf of Mrs. Altman, her children, and the sisters and family of Dave, it is my honor to share with you my feelings regarding the loss of a husband, father, grandfather, brother, and friend.

It goes without saying that Dave was a fierce patriot, a devout Catholic, a devoted husband, a loving father and grandfather, a loyal brother and son, a successful entrepreneur, and to all who knew him, a great friend.

David was born the first son of Gary and Lillian Altmanshofer in small town of Columbus, Nebraska. He attended a Catholic school and enjoyed the things many American young men enjoyed at that time – Boy Scouts, model airplanes, junior high band, high school football, the early days of rock and roll music, annoying his younger sisters and brother, and meeting the love of his life, Marla.

After attending colleges in Kansas City and Omaha, Dave married Marla and moved to Lincoln, Nebraska where he operated a toy and hobby store before moving to Southern California in 1966.

He was introduced to the world of RV’s in 1968, and decided that fulfilling people’s dreams was his life’s calling. In 1971, he opened Dave Altmans RV Center in Baldwin Park, now known as Altmans Winnebago.

If Dave’s feet were planted in his business, his heart and soul were rooted in his family. Being the oldest of eight, Dave experienced first-hand, and continuously, the joys of family. In nearly every conversation I recall, his family was always a consideration.

Dave’s enthusiasm for life and the wonders of this earth is well known. His affection for food, wine, travel, and magic pervades our memories of Dave. But these things were merely an excuse for Dave to be with people about whom he cared.

Dave traversed his 66 years like a Pied Piper, leading those who knew him on a journey of great new experiences. It always seemed like Dave was in his greatest glory when being the guide on an adventure, and not a merely a participant.

While, as his younger brother, I may have perfected the art of being annoying, that science was taught well to me by Dave.

My memories stretch back to being only 4, and sharing a bedroom with Dave. I remember him getting home late at night after a ball game or date, turning on the lights to get ready for bed, then hopping into his bed, and saying to me “Joe, wake up! It’s your turn to switch off the lights.” And time after time after time I complied.

Dave had a great sense of humor as well as a snoring issue for which he used some weird machine with a mask to help his night-time breathing. It helped a lot, I assume, as he would bring it along with him when we traveled.

One night last year, we shared a hotel room in Dallas, and I went to bed shortly before he did. I remember him taking an unusually long time to get ready for sleep, calling Marla (which was excusable), gargling, and making other old-people noises. Trying to sleep, I said, in my brotherly way, “Dave, GO TO BED or I’ll unplug your machine in the middle of the night!”. All of the sudden he leaned over me, cupping his hands to his mouth and said, in a Darth-Vader-like voice “Joe – this is your future!” I laughed so hard, I don’t think I ever fell asleep.

Being the younger brother of Dave wasn’t always easy. To Dave, I was his brother, but never “just Dave Altman’s” brother. Let me explain. A few years ago, at an RV Show, someone innocently asked me if it was difficult always being in the shadow of Dave.

Dave, overhearing this question, interjected and stated that I was never in his shadow – occasionally, he merely provided protection from the sun for my bald little head. I think there was never a day on which I stood taller.

Dave enjoyed the admiration of his peers and excelled in his chosen career. His service to the RV industry and the awards he won is well documented and I need not repeat them here.

To Dave, the value of these awards was not in the recognition he received, but in the acknowledgment by others of his struggle to make the business he loved more professional and better for its customers.

While Dave’s success brought him many opportunities to savor the finer things of life, Dave was particularly aware that after survival, you reach for success. And success has no meaning unless you strive for significance.

Dave’s lifelong goal was to make the world a better place for him having walked upon it. His family granted him the groundwork, and his business the means, but it was his spirit that proved one man, no matter how simple, can make a difference.

During his illness, and after his death, there have been countless conversations amongst the family about Dave. We are painfully aware that Dave left a mighty impression on the world he touched. And we recognize, that while our footprint may not be as wide or deep, Dave has given us the inspiration to make our own mark.

Thirty years ago, a young catholic man, Robert Kennedy, was shot down not far from here. At his funeral, his brother made a comment that mirrors my thoughts today, “My brother need not be idealized, or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life, [but should] be remembered simply as a good and decent man.”

This afternoon we will leave this Cathedral and return to living out the plan God has for each of us. When we next look up to the evening sky, consider, as was once said, “Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in Heaven, where the love of our lost ones pours through, and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy."

Farewell my brother, my mentor, and my friend. Thank you for touching and brightening our lives. May your efforts, goals, and dreams be inherited by me, your family, and the countless lives you have touched.