Today, we buried my father, Samuel Kim. He lived an incredible life and though we are devastated to have lost him, we know he's in a better place. Below is the eulogy that I read at his funeral services. I wanted to celebrate his life in a way that honored his story and the lessons he passed on to me.
On behalf of our family, I’d like to thank all of you for coming today. And thank you for the tremendous outpouring of love and support.
Dad would have been pleased with this turnout. He wasn’t a religious man but he often joked that maybe he should attend church so the entire congregation would show up at his funeral. He was only half kidding…I think.
Today we are here to both mourn and celebrate the life of Sang Yul Kim. Many of you knew him as a charming, affable, friendly man who always had a smile on his face. He loved playing golf. He loved reading 1,000-page biographies of prominent historical figures, politicians, and businessmen. He loved spending time with his three granddaughters.
But nothing made him happier than going out to a restaurant with a large group of friends and family. In fact, as many of my oldest friends will attest, if he hadn’t seen you in a while, his way of showing affection was to ask you, “Are you hungry? Have you eaten? C’mon, let’s go out to dinner.”
This joy that he had for life in his later years (and that was self-evident to many of you) belied an origin story that was rooted in poverty, solitude, despair, and perseverance. Few men have, in their own private way, overcome so much during the course of a single lifetime.
The struggles of immigrants coming to this country are familiar to all of us. We all know the sacrifices that generations of immigrants have made so that they and their children might have better lives. My dad’s life is one of those stories and, to this day, it never ceases to amaze me.
But it’s not just the story of my dad’s life that I want to share with you today. You see, my father was actually a man of very few words when it came to offering advice to me and my brother. Not once during my entire lifetime did we ever have one of those father-son conversations where he would counsel me about life and pass on lessons that might provide a road map for me on how to live my life.
This always deeply wounded me when I was younger. But as I grew older, I realized that he taught, as many great teachers do, by example.
You see, all the lessons that I ever learned from him to become the man I am today were embedded in the story of his life. And by telling you the story of his life, I think we’ll all be reminded of life’s most important lessons.
What are some of those lessons?
- You write your own future. Nothing is ever set in stone. You have the power to change the trajectory of your own life.
- We live in an amazing world full of infinite possibilities.
- Actions always speak louder than words.
- And education can take you farther than you could have ever dreamed.
It’s through this lens that I’d like to share my dad’s story...
I’ve always believed that four of the most powerful words in the English language are “once upon a time.”
Once upon a time, sometime in the early 1930’s, Samuel Kim was born to an impoverished farming family in the outskirts of Korea. He spent much of his childhood being physically and mentally abused, and being groomed for a life of menial labor. There was no point in going to elementary school because his future had already been decided for him. He would live and die on his family’s farm.
But even though he was a young boy, my dad knew that wasn’t the life he wanted. So when his parents told him he would no longer be going to elementary school, he ran away from home. He was 12 years old.
Twelve. Years. Old.
He ran off to Seoul, where he scraped by and lived from hand to mouth. Sometimes relying on the generosity of others, sometimes hustling for work on the streets, and sometimes barely having enough to eat…he found a way to survive. Oftentimes, he didn’t have a place to sleep and would be forced to sleep outside on the streets.
Years later, one of his relatives with whom I'd grown close told me about those dark days and how, many times, he and my dad often had nothing more to eat than a shared single boiled egg and a bowl of rice. Times were tough but he was attending school…and nothing else mattered to him. He was getting the education that he wanted.
In 1950, the Korean war broke out in the peninsula. He was only 16 or 17 years old at the time. By then, some of his siblings had already passed. His only sister had married a man from the north so when the border closed, he would never see her again.
When the war started, my dad was rounded up and became an indentured servant of the U.S. Army. He was forced into combat and experienced shocking horrors that haunted him for his entire life. Years later, he would never talk about his experiences during the war. But we knew from his nightmares that these memories never faded away.
For his service in the U.S. Army, my father ended up being awarded the Bronze Star for heroic achievement.
The story could have ended there. The war was over. My dad was not a U.S. citizen. And his services in the army were no longer needed.
But a general in the U.S. Army took pity on my dad and asked how he could help. In short, my dad said, “Get me to America.”
Thanks to the generosity of others, my dad found himself plunked in the middle of Des Moines, Iowa. He was given a scholarship to Drake University.
However, he didn’t speak English and didn’t have a penny to his name. He was in a strange land, racially tormented and harassed by his peers, but determined to make the most of this opportunity.
He often told my mother that he barely ever slept during his years in Iowa. When he wasn’t staying up late to teach himself English while attending classes, he was shoveling snow and taking any menial job he possibly could, so he could earn enough to eat and still send money back home to his family in Korea.
After Iowa, he made his way to New York City. It was here that the world of possibilities opened up to him. While he was now pursuing an MBA at NYU during the evening and still struggling to survive, he never stopped paying attention to this new and fascinating world. He had nobody to guide him and barely anyone to speak to, so he turned to books and newspapers to teach him about this strange new land. And he took notes on everything.
Years later, we would often frequent the legendary NYC French restaurant La Cote Basque. My dad never loved fancy French food so, as a child when I asked him why he liked it so much, he said it was because it was Truman Capote’s favorite restaurant and it epitomized the glamour of a world that was so foreign to him. I always remember thinking to myself, “my dad knows who Truman Capote is?”
Over the years, my dad became successful through a series of entrepreneurial endeavors. After getting his MBA, he briefly worked for an American shipping company that paid him very little. Realizing that his salary wasn’t going to be enough to send money back to his mother, his two brothers, and his nieces and nephews, he decided that he would become an entrepreneur. After all, the biographical stories he admired most were the great American tales of self-made men like John D. Rockefeller.
My father’s drive to succeed was rooted in survival and responsibility. That’s maybe why it took him a while to enjoy the fruits of his success. The concept of a hobby was completely alien to him. Hobbies were a luxury he could never afford. Driven to ensure that my brother, Nelson, and I had the best education possible, it wasn’t until years later that he began to realize that there was more to life than just working.
I’ll never forget when I was a teenager and I asked him, “At any point in your life when you were surviving by literally eating the roots of trees, did you ever think that one day you’d be driving down Broadway in a brand-new Cadillac?” In a rare moment of perspective, he paused and said to me, “Pierre, I still can’t believe it.”
Eventually, my dad did learn to enjoy life. While he indulged my mother’s love of travel, he was never happier than when he was reading a good book in bed after having enjoyed a nice Italian meal out with the family after a round of golf with his friends.
But really, everything changed for him after he became a grandfather. It was through his granddaughter, Parker, that he really began to understood the importance of life. And through her, he became a better and happier person. She taught him patience, unconditional love, and the simple power of joy.
When I married Tara and he suddenly had two more granddaughters in Stella and Maeve, his happiness grew exponentially. As a grandfather, Dad was incredible. His eyes would light up every time he saw his grandchildren, and I could see the pride in his eyes as he watched them grow. He referred to them as his “three little princesses” and he absolutely adored them.
He was fascinated by these amazing strong female creatures with their outsized personalities. Parker, Stella, and Maeve…I hope you all realize how much Baba loved you. He talked of you all constantly and was always ready to share photos and stories of the three of you with anyone around.
The pain of losing him is profound, and the void his absence leaves feels impossible to fill.
My father, Samuel Kim, was truly a man of substance and inspiration. A man of action, not words. He led by example, his lessons my roadmap in life.
So today, we do not simply mourn the loss of a great man, we celebrate his life and cherish the time we had with him.
Dad, you have been my greatest inspiration. As I navigate life without you, I will hold onto the memories, the lessons, and most importantly, the love. You may not be here in person, but you’ve left an indelible mark on us all.
Until we meet again. I love you, Dad.
