So...what's the story?

Remembering a great man

On June 9, 2025, my grandfather passed away at 94 years old. It says something that even after 94 years, we felt we didn’t get enough time with him. I was honored when my mother called and asked me to write the eulogy. While I was on the plane back from Germany to the U.S., my sister started outlining it, and once I landed, I finished the rest. I had never felt more grateful to be a writer in that moment; writing about someone you love, immortalizing them in words, felt like such a blessing. It felt holy. Oh, did he give me so much material to work with! (For starters, the grandkids never called him grandfather, gramps, or grandpa—we simply called him his first name: Vic.) I wanted to share the eulogy, and more about this incredible man, with all of you:

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“So…what’s the story?”

That phrase was a classic way Vic started conversations.

When you sat next to him, you knew you were going to be told a story or asked to tell your own. This phrase has been constantly rattling around in my head (in his voice, naturally) the past few days as I’ve pondered the impossible task of how to sum up a man of Vic’s caliber. Seriously, where does one begin?

Maybe it’s not so complicated. Maybe it simply starts with the story—the story of a gifted storyteller, a loyal husband, an adoring father, and my incredible grandfather. The story of Vic Zarka.

Every good story needs a great main character, and the word “character” may be the perfect word to describe Vic. Whenever you ask someone How would you describe Vic? they immediately break into a smile or a smirk.

According to those who knew him best, Vic was:

• One of a kind

• Playful

• Great conversationalist

• Witty

• Empathetic

• Innovative

• Charismatic

• Silly

• A rascal

• Storyteller

• A piece of work

Of course, every story needs a setting—and this story takes us quite literally around the world! As a child, Vic moved around and eventually ended up graduating from Midway High School… but soon his adventurous spirit took him south to South Carolina. After serving in the Korean War, he ended up back in Eldersville, where he met his soon-to-be wife, Nancy. During their 66 years together, they lived in many places, raised a loving family, and went on countless adventures.

And as with every story, there are struggles and hardships. As a young man, Vic served as a front line reconnaissance radio operator in the Korean War. This was a very dangerous and courageous role, and he witnessed first-hand the horrors of combat. He deserves the honor and respect of a military hero.

He also lived for decades with type 1 diabetes, often being a slave to his meter and food choices. Fortunately for him, he was married to a nurse who was always looking out for him!

Though not totally uncommon at the time, Vic also had a difficult childhood. He lived through the depression and often joked about being voted “least likely to succeed” in high school… but he did not accept this reality for his life—he broke the cycle for the rest of his family. He worked hard, saved his earnings, and not only was able to retire early but live what some would call “the ultimate retirement.” During his nearly 40 years of retirement, he was able to explore the world through various trips around North America and Europe, plus dedicate time and energy to the hobbies that he found most interesting.

Vic was a man with a thousand hobbies. His hands were always busy, and his mind was always learning. He had a sewing room in the basement, equipped with a handmade half-dummy with the same exact leg size as his own so he could better tailor suits. He owned many vintage cars and convertibles and took pride in fixing them up himself. The “computer room” in his house was, no lie, packed with computers. A photographer at heart, Vic’s home was filled with photobooks from trips taken with Nancy and family, and often he was not the one in the photos, but behind the lens. For years, he went to McDonalds every day to get a coffee and chat with the locals…a gift card to McDonald’s was always a solid gift choice.

Finally, a good story always has an ending: Vic’s three daughters, seven grandchildren and their spouses, and four great-grandchildren are thriving because of the sacrifices Vic and Nancy made to build their family.

But the best stories don’t just end—they teach: Vic’s philosophy, and the way he lived his life, was to learn something new everyday. He was happiest when he had a productive day, constantly improving and making something better. He especially loved helping people and did it with a smile. He never took the good times for granted. And as my cousin Leigh Ann perfectly said: “He taught me that there’s nothing that a good cup of coffee and a conversation with someone you love can’t fix.”

When I think of Vic, I think of the word “curious.” He led an interesting life, precisely because of his interest IN life. As my cousin Ken said: “If you looked up ‘social butterfly’ in the dictionary, you’d see Vic’s face.” He loved talking to others. My Uncle Dave beautifully wrote: “‘What stands out to me the most is his interest in people. He would always greet me and everyone with ‘what’s going on?’ While that greeting is common, the sincere interest in knowing the answer is not. Vic loved interacting with people. He loved listening to them. He was naturally curious and interested in learning.’”

I think back to a time right after graduating college, during the dog days of August, when I popped by to visit him one day. You know the kind of day—stiflingly hot, with an oppressive humidity that clung to your skin and made the air so thick it can only be described as “soupy.” My old Honda CRV didn’t have working air conditioning, but Vic tinkered with it until he managed to get a weak stream of air to blow. We ended up driving out to Raccoon State Park and bought ice creams. Afterwards, he drove me around the area where he grew up. Mostly trees. He told me stories of walking miles to school, wandering through the forest to get to friends’ houses, sharing about how little money they had. I remember seeing him with new eyes after that, getting a real sense of how little he had come from and how much he had created for himself.

“So… what’s the story?”

The story is this: Vic Zarka was a once-in-a-lifetime human who pursued a life he loved, filled with people who cherished him as much as he cherished them. The story is that he created a legacy of laughter, curiosity, and genuine goodness. The story is he was my grandfather—but he was also my friend. Like so many here, I will miss his shenanigans, his laughter, that mischievous glint in his blue eyes, and, of course, I will miss his stories. I will miss him. I’ll continue to share his story throughout my lifetime, and in the spirit of Vic, I’ll always remember to ask people about their own story.

Me 'n Vic :)