"He was part of the World War II cadre of veterans who have made their final march on this temporal ground; a sad passing of some very good, upright and durable men. They cast a giant shadow in which we all grew up, hopefully absorbing some of what they cast upon us of the vast store of experience within their souls and spirit" Ken L. Grigas

George was born in Grand Meadows, Minnesota on December 28, 1923. He grew up in North Philadelphia where he was raised by his mother and grandmother and graduated from Northeast High School in 1941.

In the early part of the war he worked for the Army, and then enlisted, even though he had a draft deferment. After ordinance and infantry training, he requested duty in the Air Corps and began training as a navigator. Reassigned to the Headquarters Company 2nd Battalion 424th Regiment of the 106th Infantry Division, he arrived in Belgium in December, 1945. Not many days later, the last German offensive of the war began – the Battle of the Bulge. The 106th was credited for stalling the German advance and giving the Allies time to regroup. After being lost for several days and being shelled by friendly fire, they were attached to the 82nd Airborne. They were involved in the mopping-up operations of the Battle of the Bulge and moved into Germany where they were given charge of hundreds of thousands of German POWs.

His mother died in May, 1945 and he was finally given leave toward the end of June. Arriving back in Philadelphia in July, he had no family and no home. With the end of the war in the Pacific, he was discharged from the Army, and began to rebuild his life as a civilian.

George and Jeanne, his loving wife of 45 years, raised their 6 children in Philadelphia and later in Southampton, Pa. Over the years his work experience included foundries, machine shops and manufacturing. After moving to Florida in 1979, he worked first as a purchasing manager and then as a manufacturers’ representative. He retired in 1999.

His work often took him away from home, but he loved to be with his family, and we all have fond memories of vacations to the Jersey shore, Florida, the Pocono Mountains, surprise day-trips to a park or backyard barbeques with friends and family.

He enjoyed sports, having played soccer as a youth, and sometimes watched or listened to two games at once! His football loyalty, however, never did transfer to the Bucs.

A self-taught handy-man, George took on many remodeling tasks in both their Southampton and Florida homes. He loved to putter around the yard and house, and always seemed to have a project going or in the planning stages. Even after his stroke in 2002, he could be found in the yard, spreading mulch, setting paving blocks or spreading stones.

At a Billy Graham Crusade in the 1960’s, George made a commitment to Jesus Christ that determined his life course from that point forward. Having seen much trouble and turmoil in his life, George found solace in His faith in Jesus Christ as His Savior. His faith was passed to his children, who he faithfully took to church, Sunday school and youth groups over the years. He himself was active in church government and in teaching in various churches over the years.

He instilled in his children a strong work ethic, a respect for authority and love of country, not to mention his Republican politics. In his last years he always looked forward to coffee at MacDonald’s’ with the gang, lunch or dinner out with Jeanne and visits to or from the children and grandchildren.

He will be sorely missed by Jeanne, and their children and grandchildren: Lynn and her husband David Thomson and son Alex; Steve and his wife Myrna and children Anne and Ryan; Leslie and her husband Joe Supplee and children Jenna, Amanda and Andrew; and Lisa and her husband Dale Logue and their children Adam, Amanda, Amy and Alex.

This is the tribute I delivered at my father's memorial service on May 19, 2007:

At the funeral of Richard Nixon, Billy Graham noted that one can only measure a tree when it is laid down. We can’t measure the life of George Ebling other than by the influence that he had on each one of us. Each of us related to him in different ways and we would each see him in a different, though not inconsistent, way.

It is easy, I suppose, to see greater things than the reality in someone after they have passed, but when speaking of our Dad, I don’t know how we can say enough good things about him.

A brief sketch of his life is in the bulletin you received, but the images that we have in our hearts of that life go far beyond that.

There wasn’t a lot that he said about his early years, but the few things that he did recount give a glimpse into what it was like to grow up in the Depression in what is now inner city Philadelphia. He recalled walking to the store to buy a couple of eggs for dinner, and getting a set of electric trains for Christmas, but having no electricity to run them. His mother cleaned the law library at City Hall, and though it was a menial task, it gave Dad a prime seat for the Mummers Parade on New Years Day.

He was a soldier, but he didn’t glory in war. Though he could have stayed home, he enlisted. He never joined the VFW or American Legion and seemed reluctant to relive the memories in detail. Like many combat veterans, he said that at the time, he had little knowledge of where he was or what was going on. Those of us whose knowledge of combat is only intellectual and vicarious through film and books have no concept of the effect that it has on the individual who has gone through it, and Dad said that he had nightmares for about 3 years after he returned home from the war. He said that he often wondered, as he saw fellow soldiers and friends fall around him, why he survived and so many others did not.

We asked him several years ago, as he looked back over his life, what he would have done differently. Like many older adults, he said he would have taken more risks. We asked about specifics, and he mentioned a business opportunity when he was a young husband and father that he didn’t pursue. As I have considered his life in these weeks since he has been gone and have talked things over with Mom, I can see that there were risks that he did take that perhaps, in his humble and understated way, he didn’t see as risks at the time.

I’ve already mentioned his enlisting in the Army when he could have stayed home. One of the influencing factors in his decision was a memorial service at his church for 10 young men from his neighborhood. The risk involved in his decision could hardly have been more obvious, yet in recounting that time in his life, the risk involved was not part of the discussion.

Dad and Mom were ahead of the curve in creating what today is called a blended family. They worked harder than we as kids realized at the time to mold a family. Mom has said that since he grew up with only his mother and grandmother, he really wanted a large family. Growing up without a father as a role model, he was a wonderful father to his kids and husband to his wife.

My earliest memories are of my Dad – some going back to when I was perhaps 3 or 4 years old, and oddly enough, they are of things where I knew he was frustrated with me. From getting my hand stuck in a hole at a high school football game, to knocking his slippers off the stairs into the mastic while he was tiling the basement floor. Fortunately, these are the few times that I remember him being frustrated with me – though I am sure I gave him plenty of reasons to be. The only time I remember him raising his voice at me was when he was doing that most dangerous of fatherly tasks, teaching a teenaged child to drive. We were out on the smooth concrete of the newly widened Street Road near our home and I was concentrating on keeping the car between the lines while Dad was watching the speedometer. I have no idea how fast I was going, but I remember exactly where we were when he yelled, "Watch it Buster"!

The only time I remember him looking scared was a few minutes later as I drove the car through a construction area and I am sure he thought I was going to sideswipe the barriers on his side, but he said nothing, just kind of moved toward the center of the seat and winced, anticipating impact.

His faith in Christ was evident in some things that I remember. Once, after a difficult sibling rivalry situation, we sat in my room and he said "I am sure that there is something in the Bible that would provide us some help in this situation". He told of the time, having spent many months working away from home week after week, that he cried out to the Lord while driving home from Lancaster that he needed help in finding a resolution to his work situation, and not long after that was able to find a job that enabled him to be home every night.

He was very proud of his family, and each one of us I am sure, could sense the pride he felt when introducing us as son, daughter, son-in-law, daughter-in-law or grandchild. We were all equally proud of him, and delighted in opportunities to introduce him and Mom to our friends when they would come to visit.

No doubt raising 6 children was an exhausting and expensive proposition, but he and Mom were always generous, and Christmas time in particular was a time when their generosity was evident. At times it seemed that the gift giving time on Christmas morning went on and on as we waded through the piles of gifts, and he seemed like a kid himself as he delighted in watching us we opened our gifts.

He had an ready smile, a hearty laugh and a great sense of humor, but he wasn’t one to get a cheap laugh at the expense of others – more often than not, he’d tell a joke on himself. He really got a kick out of making other people laugh, and the MacDonald’s gang will tell you about the pictures he took of them without their knowing it, and giving them each a booklet of the pictures.

We grew up under his influence, and were recipients of his wisdom, love and good will in ways that we will be remembering and living out for the rest of our lives. Dad asked himself the question during the war – why was I spared, when so many others were not. I don’t know that he came to feel that the question was answered, but we are so thankful that he was.Oswald Chambers wrote that a spring never knows the banks that its waters will touch, and so Dad’s influence in our lives goes on, and as we live the kind of lives that he taught us to live by his example, the answer to that question as to why he was spared will continue to be lived out.