This page is dedicated to the husband of Kathleen Farrar, and father of David S. Farrar and Jack C. Farrar. He continued, as this text was being written, to use his mind... to discuss complex political issues, or the plot of a mystery novel he had just finished (using a "books on tape" system). His spirit is with us still. His body, unable to carry the weight of emphysema and lung cancer, surrendered at 5:50am, November 13th, 1998. Services will be held Tuesday, November 17th, at 11am -- Morgan's Funeral Home, 6370 Union St., Arvada, Colorado. His is one of the sharpest, keenest, and most precise minds I have ever experienced. I would be proud for this reason alone, to be one of his sons. And yet...there is much more to his story, that of Harry Farrar. If you knew our father (who was an "occasional sports editor" for the Denver Post during the fifties and early sixties), and please contact us at the above address, and/or add your name to the Guest Book, below.
...if you knew our father (who was an "occasional sports editor" for the Denver Post during the fifties and early sixties), and please contact us at the above address, and/or add your name to the Guest Book, below. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~ As Julie Cee Remembered ~~ "Harry Farrar lived a long life, he left behind 82 years of memories. I am thankful that I got to share 30 of those years with him. Many of you here today knew him as a journalist. I have few memories that have to do with his career and they revolve mainly around dinner at The Press Club. Seeing Grnadpa's picture on the wall, occasionally meeting people that I saw on television or heard on the radio. Peering through a bannister into a smoky downstairs room that smelled of cigars; hearing men laughing, arguing, and playin gpool. As far as I could tell the unwritten rule for the pool hall was 'no women allowed'." I grew to know and love Harry Farrar as my Grandfather. I didn't really learn to appreciate his writing talents until I was older and read some of his stories in his column, 'Farrar's People'. These were stories about unsung heroes, ordinary folks who did extraordinary things that made areal difference in the lives of others. Once Grandpa wrote about my accomplishments as a wheelchair athlete. It was embarrassing to read about myself but it was an honor a the same time. Grandpa wrote about hwo I 'overcame' my disability, this is a common journalisitic tactic that I find somewhat misleading. I never have and never will overcome my disability, it will always be a part of me. However, with the love, patience, and understanding of my family, I learned to accept my disability and embrace the person that I have become. I was blessed to have Grandpa as one of my strongest supporters, especially during my teenage and early adult years. A time when I was trying desperately to find out who I was and where I fit in. During this period of my life, Grnadpa wrote me several letters that will always hold a special place in my heart. None of these letters was judgemental, or condemning, none of them told me to 'get my act together'. The common theme in these letters was, 'Grandpa wants nothing more in the world than for you to be happy. I see your struggles and I feel for you.' In almost all of our conversations, Grandpa would inevitably ask,'Are you happy?' or even end with a threat of, 'You better be happy or I'll have to punch you right in the nose!' We had a long talk recently about how much his love and support meant to me. We talked about how we had changed over the years. I have been truly happy for the most part over the past five years. Having a family of my own, my husband Aaron and my daughter Jessa, has made a huge difference in my life. Grandpa talked about how proud he was of his sons, David and Jack. His grandchildren, Chela and Adyan for pursuing their college education, Chelsea, 'the Union Organizer', for standing up for her beliefs, my brother Aaron and myself, for finally 'getting our acts together'. Grandpa was so proud of his great grandkids, Jessa and Alexander, he was known to walk through restaurants silently critiquing the other babies and commenting to Grandma Kathleen, 'they're cute but not as cute as OUR great grandkids!!' Grandpa talked of how lucky and grateful he was to have Grandma Kathleen. He talked about how his failing hearing and eyesight over the past few years actually allowed him to sit back and enjoy his family. He no longer felt any need to try to control what was going on. This was very evident the last few days of his life. Grandpa's room was full of non-stop hustle and bustle and all kinds of commotion as friends and family members stopped in to visit. Baby Alex sitting in bed with him, Jessa drawing pictures for him. My cousin Chela drove all the way from New Mexico to say good-bye. Grandpa was for the most part, an observer in this whole scenarion, unless someone mentioned sports or politics, then his hearing seemd to be as acute as ever and he took great pleasure in participating in any debate currently taking palce or starting on if that hadn't occurred yet. He never lost his faculties or his sence of humor. Grandpa will be missed by many people, I am thankful and honored that we was such an important part of my life over the past 30 years." (played Bette Midler's, "Wind Beneath My Wings")
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