Memories of My Father's Life and Legacy

By TODD GRAFF

The eyes of faith behold a wonderful scene: that of a countless number of lay people, both women and men, busy at work in their daily life and activity, oftentimes far from view and quite unacclaimed by the world, unknown to the world's great personages but nonetheless looked upon in love by the Father, untiring laborers who work in the Lord's vineyard. Confident and steadfast through the power of God's grace, these are the humble yet great builders of the Kingdom of God in history.

-Pope St. John Paul II, Christifidelis Laici, #17

Greetings of Peace!

This time of the year, I often think of my dad. This November 24 would have been his one hundredth birthday, and this December 7 marks the 10-year anniversary of his death. If I were to name one person in my life that I would see as a model and mentor, it would be my dad.

He was an accomplished man of business and finance as president of our hometown bank, and even served for a time as the Director of the Department of Banking for the State of Nebraska. But, what I and many others remember most about him was his humility and gentleness.

For me, he was the kind of person that Pope Francis often encourages us to be: humble, a listener, joyful, caring, patient, grateful, generous, and compassionate toward those in need. On my desk is this “tweet” from Pope Francis: “Prayer, humility, and charity toward all are essential in the Christian life: they are the way to holiness.” I learned this lesson well from my dad.

As a way to honor and remember him, I would like to devote my article this month to two reflections on his life - the first from the column I wrote for the January 2014 issue of The Courier, following his death, and the second from my brother Chad’s testimony to him at his funeral (based on the memories and reflections of our family).

Pete Graff's Son

Peter Marcel Graff died on December 7, 2013, the Memorial of Saint Ambrose and the 72nd anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. He was 90 years old and had just celebrated this milestone birthday with his family two weekends before his death. He was known as “Marcel” through high school to distinguish himself from his father, “Peter,” and mostly called “Pete” or sometimes “Peter M.” after that. Perhaps some called him, “Mr. Graff,” but that didn’t fit his humble demeanor. I had the great privilege to always call him, “Dad.”

He was a son (of immigrant parents), a husband (to Eileen for 15 years before her death, and of 47 years to Dolores), a father (of 11) / grandfather (of 33) / great grandfather (of 17), a banker (for 50+ years), a farmer (from his childhood), a World War II veteran (piloting dangerous nighttime missions over the Pacific Ocean), and man of faith (whose witness was a lifetime of caring for his family and his bank customers, especially those in most distress).

My dad hated to be the object of attention or to be in the spotlight, and had to patiently endure several occasions of public recognition in his final years. He would accept these acknowledgments of his many years of community and church service out of loyalty to whatever group or organization offered it, but never felt comfortable being the one acclaimed by others.

In contrast to this, he always had time for a visit from a bank customer or a friend (many of whom were both). As a child, I had a downtown paper route, and would usually stop by the bank to see him after finishing my daily delivery. Often, I would find someone in his office who had come to visit or to check in after the bank had closed for the day. Dad always had time for whoever came to his office door, and never let the piles of work on his desk take precedence over their desire to see him.

Just as importantly, he always had time to talk to me about my day and what I needed from him. Some of my greatest joys as a child were these times spent in his office, at the farm doing chores, or accompanying him on his errands around town. In our town, I was often referred to as, “Pete Graff’s son,” and I was very proud to be known in relation to him.

My dad taught me to be a good man, a faithful husband and father, a hard worker, and a caring friend to those in need. And, most significantly, he taught me how to be all of these through a life lived in witness to the Catholic Faith of our family. It was a faith I learned through Catholic schools, through personal prayer and the celebration of the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, and through an active witness of charity and service.

Dad preached the love of Christ to me sometimes in words, but much more often in his quiet way of listening, caring, helping, guiding, encouraging. In the words of Saint John Paul II, he was truly one of “the humble yet great builders of the Kingdom of God in history.”

Reflections on Our Dad

“We’d like to share just a couple reflections on our Dad with you.

“Dad maintained a remarkable calmness in life. One of the things he said was: ‘If it won’t be a big deal in 10 years, it isn’t a big deal now.’ Dad valued good character more than experience. He was fond of saying that if we don’t learn from our mistakes, then 20 years of experience is one year of experience times twenty.

“Dad loved snacks. At home, he was known to sneak down to the basement freezer late at night for ice cream. It was also rumored that he kept a few snacks under his desk at work. Nothing pleased him more than to hand you a bag of popcorn. If he could give you a new [McCook National Bank] pen with the popcorn, all the better.

“One of the greatest lessons we learned from Dad is that everyone deserves to be treated with honor and dignity regardless of their station in life. Dad treated an individual falling on hard times and needing $20 for groceries with the same heartfelt kindness and respect that he treated the Governor. He would give money out of his own pocket, and tell people they could pay him back when back on their feet. His heart contained no prejudice. His door at the bank was open to everyone, and he took the time to listen to what people had to say. He enjoyed helping people find what they loved to do. He taught us that people are important; money and things are not.

“If you asked him how he was doing, Dad was fond of saying, ‘Can’t Complain!’

“Dad was fascinated by conditions of nature that impact us all, none more than farmers. On the phone, he was quick to ask: ‘What’s your weather doing?’ He loved a drive to check on the crops and a glance at the sky to look for rainclouds. He enjoyed doing the small things that nature asks, such as mowing the lawn or shoveling snow. It wasn’t unusual for bank employees to leave work after a snow storm only to find their cars had been secretly cleared of snow by the Chairman of the bank. He taught us that there is beauty and God’s love in the things we do to help one another.

“Dad loved to say, ‘thank you,’ and to show his appreciation. Let us express our heartfelt thanks for the kindness and love you all showed our Dad. The last weeks of his life were spent celebrating his 90th birthday and enjoying the good wishes of many, many people. To know our Dad was to love him. Thank you.”

I will close by saying how blessed and grateful I am to be the son of Pete Graff, and may he rest in peace. Deo Gratias!

Holiness is a gift from God which we have received with Baptism: if we let it grow, it can completely change our life. Saints are not unreachable or distant heroes, but people like us, our friends, whose starting point is the same gift we have received: Baptism. Indeed, if we think about it, we have certainly met some of them, some everyday saints: some righteous person, someone who lives the Christian life seriously, with simplicity… they are those I like to call ‘the saints next door’, who live normally among us.

-Pope Francis, Angelus Address for the Solemnity of All Saints, Nov. 1, 2023

Todd Graff is the Director of Lay Formation and RCIA for the Diocese of Winona-Rochester