Temporary Cemetery Marker
Burial of Ashes
Family gathered at gravesite.

PARENTS:
Charles Clarence Casto (1894-1973), born Kansas, father born West Virginia, mother born Kansas
Ida Marie Meyer Casto (1895-1985), born Kansas, parents born Germany

PATERNAL GRANDPARENTS:
Jefferson Clarence Casto (1861-1926), born West Virginia
Nellie Patton Casto (1877-1900)

MATERNAL GRANDPARENTS:
Albert F Meyer (1865-1935), born Germany
Mary L Floescher Meyer (1869-1938), born Germany

EUOLOGY:
Euology by grandson, Mark, February 26, 2011, Castle Rock, Colorado

GLENN CASTO

Introduction: For those of you whom I have not met, I am Glenn's grandson, Mark. My grandfather did not want this memorial. He did not want to be eulogized. He did not want a funeral. He didn't even want an Urn. He preferred to have his ashes stored in a "Chock Full-O-Nuts" can, and to eventually be scattered in a forest near his former home.

He simply wanted to pass away quietly, without note or fanfare. Well, we honored some of those wishes… but could not allow such a massive part of our lives to pass without one last opportunity to celebrate his life. In keeping with Grandpa's style and spirit, I will do my best to honor him here today with stories of the real man. The man who made us all smile so many times.

Glenn Eugene Casto was born February 6th, 1924 near Topeka, KS. He was one of 14 children. [Survived by his wife of 67 years, 2 daughters, and 1 son]. At last count, he had 17 grandchildren and nearly 30 great-grandchildren. He was a farm boy, WWII Coast Guard Veteran, Butcher, Storeowner, Salesman, business owner, retiree, and volunteer. He was a fisherman, water-skier, lumberjack, wood-worker, and dear friend to many stray cats in his neighborhoods. He lived in Kansas, So California, the Bay Area, Central Valley of California, the California Gold Country, and finally here in Colorado.

My grandfather was my friend. I spent large parts of every summer through my school years staying at my grandparents' home. My grandfather and I spent countless hours together… fishing, four-wheeling, working in his shop or garage, cutting wood, or just hanging out. I cannot recall a time he ever scolded me in all of those years. We were truly friends. He taught me a lot. Not how to tie a fishhook, or how to drive a car. He taught me how to work hard, and like doing it.

He taught me how to love your wife more than anything. He taught me how to tease my father when we all worked together. He taught me how to wear my watch so I could check the time without the man across the table knowing I'd done so. He taught me so much about what family should be. He taught me everything about what a grandfather should be to his grandchildren.

Some of you have only known Glenn for a few years. Some knew him for the better half of a century. He knew me for 32 years. I have in-law's who only met my grandfather once - at my wedding. I see them once or twice a year, and without fail, they inquire about my grandpa. As everyone in this room can attest, he left something with everyone he met. It was like some kind of magic. I hope that my memories of him will light your own.

First, food: Grandpa loved food, but he REALLY loved a big breakfast. Bacon, eggs, toast, bacon, and more bacon. Sometimes, he would even mix in some sausage. For lunch, we ate cheese & crackers 8 times out of 10. Always with a Coke. Later on in his life, he developed an affinity for Costco hot dogs. They were not on his doctor-approved diet, so Grandma did her best to keep them separated. In fact, when grandma was in the hospital for a while he would stay by her side for days on end… leaving only once per day… to sneak over to Costco and get a hot dog.

His Toys: Grandma has often said that if Grandpa had his way, he would have spent every dime they had on cars. He used to get a new car every year, if not more often. He liked pretty cars. He liked fast cars. He liked big trucks. He liked motor homes. He liked travel trailers. He liked ski boats. He liked 4x4s. He liked anything he could drive. He liked it new and with every option available. Grandpa wasn't the best driver. He drove too fast. He cut people off. He was a wild man behind the wheel. He ended up high centered on round-abouts, was run off the road, buried his hitch a time or two going places a RV can't go, and legend has it he was even shot at one time on the freeway.

I spent a lot of time with him in the Jeep. Once, my brother [ ] and I went on a seemingly endless 4-wheeling trip with him. After hours on the trail, we finally found our way to the local highway. [My brother] and I were beat from being passengers in his roughshod Jeep, and weren't paying much attention when we were stopped for roadwork. Ours was the first in a long line of cars waiting to be flagged through. Allowing my grandfather to be the first vehicle through the maze of cones turned out to be a critical error on the part of this particular road crew.

Grandpa drove too fast, and judging by the amount of air we caught - he'd taken a wrong turn. The Jeep lurched into and out of a deep and wide trench in an instant. The sedan following us didn't have the same luck. I still remember looking back and seeing that car buried nose-first in the ditch we'd just cleared.

His Loves: In addition to his toys, he loved his hot tubs. He would use his hot tubs nearly every night. Woodshop: He always had a workshop or at least a workbench. He loved to build things. If you wanted something to last, and you wanted it done quickly, he could build it. If you wanted it to be pretty, you shouldn't leave him alone. He loved fishing. I remember sitting in fishing boats for summer days on end. Eating the lunch grandma packed, and watching him pee off the side of the boat, or on really hot days - just jump in the water to check the prop.

I learned a lot about patience from those trips, because it takes a lot of patience for an 8 year old to watch a bobber while listening to his grandpa snore. He loved Johnny Cash, Louis Lamore, and John Wayne. He loved his country. He loved water skiing. So did his kids. They skied as a family. And, they were good at it.

He loved his neighbors. All of his neighbors in all the houses I can remember knew him. He was friendly. He was kind. He was rare in the way he connected with those around him. He dearly loved his friends. Bonnie [ ], Bob [ ]. I know there were many others, but those were the two I knew. He loved them. He did anything he could for them, and they for him. He and Bob must have cut down half the trees in Nevada County. Even after they'd converted their own fireplaces to pellet stoves, Glenn & Bob continued to cut and split wood for members of their ward in need.

The Church. He loved the church. He loved the gospel. He had great faith in many things. He valued his priesthood. He valued the blessings he gave and received. In the end, the priesthood blessings he received sustained him, and gave him strength and comfort. Most of all, he valued the brotherhood of it. He truly considered his ward and his quorum part of his family. He loved going to church. He loved being a part of this gospel. His faith gave him incredible strength in his hardest times.

The things he would say: What's the Good Word? Less Talk, More Eat. I got that one a lot. Sunshine. If he liked you, he'd call you Sunshine. Partner. When working with grandpa, you were his Partner. Grandma was The Boss. Better clear it with The Boss. Sometimes, he'd get going a little too fast, and let a really good one out.

Once, my brother [ ] brought a new girlfriend over while Grandma & Grandpa were visiting. After a brief introduction, Grandpa said to Steve and new girlfriend, "Well [ ], next time why don't you bring a pretty one over!" He was a fast talker. Always looking to make a deal. In fact, if he said, "I have a deal for you" you knew some hard work was just around the corner.

His Family: Glenn Casto loved his family. The hugs he gave were enormous. His handshakes were crushing, even until his last hours with us. His strength, both physical from decades of hard work, and the strength of his spirit were tremendous. The way he would hold and squeeze his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren was the stuff of movies and storybooks. To those children, he was bigger than life. Loud, crazy, fun, and full of huge hugs.

To him, there was no time better spent than time spent with his family. He always kept his heart, his home, and his arms wide open for family. If children were around, they were around grandpa. He loved to hold babies. He loved to squeeze toddlers. He loved to tease and joke with the older ones. Water balloon fights were standard summer fare. Despite his pain and weakness in the past few years, he pined more time with his great grandkids. His grandchildren were amazing gifts to him. He spoiled us, taught us, and had lots of fun with us.

My Father, [ ], and Grandpa worked on hundreds of projects together over the years. It was always clear to me that Grandpa Casto had become a real father to my dad. In fact, I believe he was my father's best friend.

His children were his treasure. [They] could do no wrong. I cannot recall a time I ever heard Grandpa admit one of his children was not perfect. He cherished each of them. He cared for them when they were ill, applying home remedies like turpentine soaked rags to their chests. He taught them how to shoot, ski, work hard, and most of all, how to love their children just as hard as he loved them.

[Wife]: At the center of all of it is [his wife]. Grandma was the balance in his life. They met, went on 3 dates, and married just 3 months later. For 67 years, they stayed married, through thick and thin, good and bad. They had highs and lows. They argued sometimes. They argued lots of times. I remember sitting in the back of various cars over the last 25 or so years, smiling quietly as grandma told grandpa he was driving too fast. They'd disagree on almost anything. Usually it started with driving, or grandpa wanting to spend money on another toy. Grandma always won. He would always slow down. Instead of the next ski boat, he'd recycle cans until he had squirreled away enough to buy a small fishing boat. She won because he loved her more than anything in this world. She won because he knew she was right. He loved to push her buttons, he loved to get her going, but most of all - he just loved her.

There was literally nothing she asked of him that he did not do. In her weakest times, he got stronger. In the last few years, he was on a constant, focused mission to ensure that grandma would be well cared for after he was gone. He did not care about himself. He didn't care if he ended up in a coffee can without a memorial. He cared about [her]. He was obsessed with being reassured that she would live with my mother, [ ].

They moved to Colorado for this single purpose. He loved his home in Nevada City. He loved his friends and his ward. It was his perfect home. But, he loved grandma more. He wanted her here, with [his daughter]. He wanted to know she would be surrounded with the love he couldn't give her when he was gone. In the end, he was certain. It wouldn't have ever been any other way, because grandpa showed all of us how to love grandma just as much as he did. And, we do.

His love - so overwhelming, so powerful, lives on through all of us who were so blessed to have known Glenn Casto. Grandma, before you leave, look around this room. Look around the room where the memorial is held in Nevada City and know that we are not here for Grandpa. He didn't want us here. Our memories are all we need of him. They will last for as long as we live. We are here for you. In each of us, we carry the love he had for you. That was his magic.

I will close with a quote from John Wayne - one of grandpa's favorites, "Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight, very clean. It's perfect when it arrives and puts itself in our hands. It hopes we've learned something from yesterday."