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Eulogy of David Gulassa, January 13, 2001 Let me introduce myself - I’m Bill Stockhausen, an uncle of David’s
(I’d like to think favorite uncle), and with wife, Carole Jean (who
is sister to Harriet), father of Stocky. David’s whole life was a voyage of discovery - the world was his frontier and he was a frontiersman. He traveled around the world always looking for new ideas, searching for objects of beauty, seeking gadgets of wonder, and questing for the unusual, generally taking the least traveled paths, but always guided by his own inner compass. In 1996 at David’s Grandma Walker’s surprise 88th birthday celebration in Indiana, David made a big point of thanking me for the things he learned from me and the inspiration that led to a big part of what Gulassa and Co. is. In 1976, the bicentennial year, he and friend Andy Carl had biked from west coast to east coast at age 16. They stopped at our home in Michigan. He came back a year later and we taught each other how to slate our carriage house/garage. Slate, being a stone, has to be fit around windows, corners and moldings and then nailed in place; 99% of today’s roofers wouldn’t have a clue how to work with it. But we got so good that we had little competitions making things like picture frames and little spiral shapes out of the scrap pieces. He made this miniature slate shingle that I have here today. He came again later with his brother Harry and they helped us with drywalling and some electrical work. He came yet again with Andy on their way to Europe, and we built the 44 window frames for our old grist mill. On each of these visits, he saw us making use of used tools and machines that a rebuild had made usable again and generally at much less cost than their new counterparts. He learned that amazing creations can be made when one has the right tools and knows how to use them. He learned that others’ and nature’s throw away and castoff materials - wood, metal, stone, etc - could be transformed into objects of function and beauty. He developed an appreciation for the wonder of classic machines as well as their clever function and elegant grace. Does any of this sound familiar? David was a sponge that never was saturated no matter how much he absorbed. I was only a small part of David’s inspiration, however. He met and talked to many people (many of whom are here today) and grew up in an extremely creative family starting with his mother and grandmother. His father taught him logic and the importance of following through to completion. I know everyone has heard of the student becoming the teacher. Well, with David it happened in two ways. All of you know the hundreds, maybe thousands, of designs and creations that David has orchestrated in the last 20 years - many of you know these much better than I. But I want to tell you that which you may not know - about what he taught me: He taught me a new way of expanding the size of an upper room - not by simply adding a dormer onto a house but by adding a dormer, onto a dormer, onto a dormer. He taught me how to transform the simple into the wonderfully mysterious - like the Cy-light desk lamp. He taught me (as I’m sure he has taught many of us) the intricacies and subtleties of using texture, material, balance, color, function and surface feel. But most importantly, he taught me a new way of playing - one where ordinary everyday life activities can be a brand new adventure - like a child eating his cereal. The spoon, hand and arm become a 3-axis, motorized, articulated automaton controlled by electric motors and limit switches in traversing between bowl and mouth. And of course with sound effects to suit. All of that was the first way he became the teacher. The second way is how legacies are generated and sustained. And that is-- he, in turn, has taught our son, Luke (Stocky). I am sure he has taught and inspired Luke 100 fold, no even several hundred fold that which I taught him. And so, David, I personally thank you for the knowledge and inspiration that you have taught myself, our son, and all of us. |