Dan and David Schield's Eulogies for their Dad, Dr. Carroll Schield

Sorry it's taken so long to get to this but I wanted to share with those of you who couldn't make it to Neillsville the eulogies Dan and David Schield delivered at the memorial service Jan. 24 for their dad, Dr. Carroll Schield:

Dr. Dan Schield:

We all loved our Father. We all had different relationships with him and hold different memories of him.  With seven brothers and sisters, this is to be expected, and now as the family extends to grandchildren and great grandchildren, those memories continue to grow.

Now, my brothers and sisters often comment about happenings in our childhood and question why I don’t remember them. I imagine that some psychologist could have a field day with that revelation, but my answer to that is this.  There was just too much to remember!

Dad was an only child, grew up during the Great Depression and though, maybe not to the extent of many, it had an effect on his life that few of us today can relate to. He used his basketball prowess to “get out of Dodge,” so to speak, and headed off to Drake University in Des Moines, Iowa to find his path in the world.

I don’t know if I ever had a conversation with Dad about how he got interested in dentistry.  Maybe he told me but true to form, I don’t remember! Regardless, at some point in time, he must have had a vision. He headed off to Marquette to pursue his studies.

I would like to tell you a story -- actually a kind of spooky story -- about Dad’s and my experience at Marquette.  Marquette’s dental school clinic was ancient when I was there in the late sixties and early seventies.  You were never really assigned a particular chair in the clinic but I always seemed to gravitate to a certain one whenever I worked. One day Dad was visiting and came down to the clinic floor where I was working. Now here is the spooky part; he looked around and then suddenly looked under the instrument table on the unit I was working on. Under that table were his initials that he had carved when he was there thirty years earlier!!

“Visionary”, what an interesting word to use to describe our Father.

As many of you know, Dad was a man of few words. Lets just say, he didn’t take any cues from two people he admired greatly, Presidents’ Harry Truman and the great communicator Ronald Reagan. But let me tell you, he was a very good thinker.

He was a member of The Greatest Generation, experienced WW-ll and as typical of that generation, didn’t talk much about those experiences. He was in the medical core that landed in France two days after D-day. Not on the front line, but war is war, and all made many sacrifices.

He saw Paris, and as the song goes, “How you going to keep ‘em down on the farm after they've seen Paris.” Well, he did come back to the farm, full of great expectation, I am sure, took over Dr. Brook’s practice and never looked back. Back in those days, building a successful dental practice meant working a lot, often on Saturdays, so free time with Dad was limited.

But then,” Never Never Land” happened. For those of you who don’t know,  “Never Never Land” is the name of our cottage that has been in our family for well over fifty years. Credit Dad for the vision of how that would change things for not only our generation but for the future generations to come.  Now to be fair, Dad may have had the vision, but we all know that it was Mom who made it happen.

Dad really enjoyed his time at Never Never Land.  For one thing, there was no phone!  There were many additions to the cottage over the years but one addition that Dad particularly enjoyed, was the basketball court. Now, this was not a full-size court, but just the right length that Dad, with minimal amount of running, could come across the center line, stop and knock down that two handed set shot that he was so deadly with.

Dad loved to “putz”.  Whether it was raking leaves, cleaning the grill or painting the deck, he was always accomplishing something. I think this resulted in teaching us to take care of our “stuff,” and to be self-reliant.

Let me tell you a little story about that grill.  We have a built- in grill and that was Dad’s domain. He was in charge of grilling the steaks or chicken and of course , the cleanup afterwards. I can remember one of my sister’s friends visiting and making a comment about how clean it was and asking “don’t you ever use this?” The answer was, of course,  “we use it all the time. “ Dad would religiously clean it and still today it looks almost brand new even though it is used constantly.

Professionally, Dad was also visionary. Making things last was important to Dad. Helping people keep their teeth for a lifetime was not the norm in those days.  Through hard work and education, Dad helped to change that and drew great respect from his fellow professional and his patients who truly benefited. I was fortunate to follow some of those patients and received many appreciative remarks. Most of them went something like this, “He didn’t talk much, but he sure was a good dentist.” I admired Dad for that. He was a tough act to follow.

I would be remiss in not mentioning that Dad influenced four of his first five children to work in dentistry. All three of his daughters got their start working in his office. My exposure was a little different. I have always said that I have more restorations in my mouth then all my brothers and sisters together, so you get an idea of how I was influenced.

In dental school, I had a roommate who was struggling with his decision of choosing dentistry as a profession. Dad happened to be visiting and Rich had a conversation with Dad about what it was like being a dentist. Well Rich ended up graduating first in our class and told me that his conversation with Dad helped him clarify some things and motivated him to stay in the profession.

I started out by saying we all had different relationships with Dad.  Because Dad and I worked together, I think he saw me more as a business partner. Don’t get me wrong, I know I had a wonderful childhood, but being the eldest son, I was often envious of my younger brothers who seemed to have more of a “buddy relationship” with Dad.

Now I realize that things change and there are a few years between us, as witnessed by the fact that I signed their high school diplomas! I think I was twenty-one years old when I got my first car. If I remember right, they each had one or two before they graduated high school!

Perhaps some of you have a favorite memory of our father that you can share later when we gather at the Country Club, for Dad’s favorite lunch of minestrone soup and turkey sandwiches. For me, my favorite visual and recollection of Dad goes something like this: [At this point, Dan removed his suit coat to reveal a cardigan sweater, then donned a hat and stuck a pipe in his mouth -- all of them once worn by his dad!]

May he be at peace in God’s arms.  Thank you all for coming.

David Schield 

To begin, I’d first like to thank you all for coming to help us celebrate the life our father.  I’d also like to begin with a sincere acknowledgement for someone I know will not like this or that I’m saying this, but I’d like to recognize and publicly thank one person who unselfishly packed up his belongings and moved across the country to become Dad’s caretaker.  He knew, and somewhat feared that he would be with Dad when he passed.  Fortunately he didn’t have to be alone and isolated in Florida when it did happen.  Joey and I were with Dad on the day he was delivered the awful news of his cancer, and we were together when Dad passed while in hospice.   From my childhood hero, to my modern day hero, Joe, I am proud to be your brother and would like to salute you

Dad was born on Nov 21, 1917, and was the only child of Alice and Joe Schield.  His mother was a stern woman who after meeting and marrying Joe, convinced him to sell his part of the family farm and move to Neillsville.  Our Grandpa Joe worked at the old Neillsville Condensery where he was as a foreman and worked seven days a week, a likely factor in my father’s work ethic that I will detail later.

Growing up in Neillsville in the 1920’s & 30’s had to be interesting and Dad never shared too much about it.  His passion at the time was basketball which he played regularly at the old Armory Building near downtown on 4^th Street with buddies that included names like Lowell Schoengarth, Kenny Olsen, Herb Quicker, to name a few.  His basketball skills were good enough where he was offered, and took, a college scholarship to attend and play basketball for Drake University in Des Moines, IA.  Being an only child, one can only imagine how Granny Alice felt when her darling child was so far away.  Either to pacify his mother, or to cultivate his affection for dressing well and looking good, Dad would mail his laundry to Neillsville where his mother would wash and iron his clothes, then mail the box back to him at school.  He was indeed particular about his clothes and appearance for his entire life.

However, and only after one year at Drake, Dad decided his passion wasn’t basketball, but instead turned to dentistry.  He transferred to Marquette University and enrolled in the dental program the next year.  It was at Marquette that he met an attractive young lady who worked as a secretary at the dental school.  At the time, students were prohibited from dating anyone from the department, but Dad managed to get permission, partly because he was a good student, and partly because he was a good quality person in the eyes of the school, another complement to our father.

After graduation and Dad now a dentist, he was called to serve his country as a US Army Medical Officer. 

He was in Louisiana, then went overseas to both the European Theater, and then onto the Phillipines.  He apparently walked up the Normandy Beach only a few days after the famous invasion there.  However, it was in 1942, while stationed in Louisiana, and less than a year after they met at Marquette, that Dad asked this beautiful lady to come to down and marry him.  Of course she did, and they were married for 69 years until Mom passed a short two years ago.

Dad served our country from 1942 until 1945 and when discharged, he, Mom, and now first daughter Patricia, moved back to Neillsville where he started practicing dentistry.  He continued to practice until the mid 1980’s when and finally retired after 40+ years of dentistry here in Neillsville.  That move back to Neillsville was also the start of the “Baby Making Years”, and that they did, producing a broad of seven children….Patty, Danny, Wendy, Joey, Mary, Jimmy, and David.

Well, those are the facts. Now let me tell you about the man.

Dad was a driven and determined man.  Private by nature, stoic and professional.  Dad rarely let his hair down and most certainly not in front of his young children, nor in his hometown.  Publicly he was quiet and reserved.  His stature as a professional and dentist really dictated that.  He was not a civic-minded, or politically involved guy.  He preferred to stay out of that ruckus, and was content to quietly exist and adequately provide for his children, which he did, and rather nicely.  We had a nice house, food on the table, nice clothes, but nothing over the top.  Those us who had cars in high school, or mini bikes, and that first car for all of us after high school or in college…..those were on us.  We worked for the money, we paid the insurance, and we paid for the gas and repair.  We were all embarrassed and afraid to ask Dad for extra money.  It was one of those unwritten lessons in responsibility we were all taught.  However, we knew that if in dire straits, Dad would be there when needed, and he always was.

Dad was a hard working man, a true professional, and a really good dentist.  In his mind, his role was to financially provide for his family.  Not so big on the daily teaching & child rearing, nor so much on the discipline, that was left to Mom.  By his work ethic and nature, he did in fact teach us that we, too, needed to provide for ourselves and our families.  Growing up in the Depression Era, extravagances and excesses weren’t necessary, provided, nor entitled.  They were earned for yourself with hard work and dedication.  Yes, he had nice things, nice clothes, nice cars, the boat, etc.  But they were HIS things and earned with HIS hard work, and honestly, he was generally not overly comfortable sharing them.  Part of that may have come from his upbringing during the depression, and partly perhaps because he was an only child and never really had to share his things with any siblings.

I often felt sorry for Dad being so private and alone.  He had few friends and associates he commiserated with.  I wondered if he was lonely.  But he wasn’t, not at all.  He was perfectly content to be alone, spend time at the cottage, pick blackberries, watch a baseball game later in life, or his beloved Packers.  He didn’t really care for gatherings and needless conversations.  He was a content man.

He did enjoy tennis, and his tennis partners, some of who are here today.  They tell me Dad showed a different side to them, talkative and engaging.  Perhaps it was with them he felt he could let down his stoic guard away from his children.  We are all happy and proud he enjoyed tennis.  Apparently he played some as kid, but rediscovered the sport  in his mid-50’s thanks to Joey.  He played in earnest, and quite well until his hands couldn’t hold the racket well enough -- that was when he was 88!

In August of last year, when Dad and Joe had come up to Wisconsin to enjoy our family cottage in Hatfield, he was diagnosed with a terminal cancer.  That day was August 12, a day I will never forget.

Over the next couple of months he got to spend at Never Never Land in Hatfield where all his children got to come to visit with him.  In October the four boys went down to Florida, packed his apartment and him to Madison to be closer to family and medical care when necessary.  It was only after one week in his new apartment in Madison that a pain in his leg, which he insisted was nothing more than a blood clot like Mother had, turned out to be the cancer progressing.  Only two days later he was restricted from walking and eventually moved to Agrace Hospice in Fitchburg, WI just outside of Madison.  In the four short weeks he was at Agrace he was well cared for, at like a horse, and again got to see his children, some grandchildren, and even great grandchildren, both in person and via Skype, or Shype as he called it!

On the Wednesday before he passed, when he had stopped eating and was basically sleeping, I was having a hard time with the thought of him passing.  I spoke with the chaplain, who had just witnessed a passing earlier that morning in person.  I asked how she endured all that death around them everyday.  She told me it was actually a really beautiful process and that Dad had begun his.  I struggled with that, but over the next two days I began to realize that she was right, he was peaceful and serene.  While in this state they encourage you to talk to the dying person to assure them everything will be okay and that it’s okay to leave.  The next day was his 96^th birthday and I let him know that he had made it, a goal I believe he wanted to achieve and for which he was hanging for. 

On Friday morning, I again whispered in his ear that all was okay and he could leave knowing everything was going to be okay.  I told him he taught us well and provided for and raised a great and caring family.  I promised him we would take care of each other and watch out for each other, especially when times are tough. I told him I would make sure we stayed close and connected as a family.

He passed later that day when Joe and I had stepped out of the room for just a few minutes returning to discover he had passed, something I’m convinced he wanted to do in private, like he lived his life.

So Family, on our Father's dying bed, I promise to do my very best, and whatever it takes to make sure we stay close, connected and united as a family for as long as I am able.

In the profound words of Frank Sinatra, which I think describe my father:

“Regrets, I’ve had a few, But then again, too few to mention.  I did what I had to do, I saw it through without exemption.  I planned each chartered coarse, each careful step along the byway. And more, much more than this, I did it My Way.”

Editor's Note: Photos Courtesy of Rebecca Schield.