[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 163 (2017), Part 7]
[Senate]
[Pages 9081-9082]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                         ADDITIONAL STATEMENTS

                                 ______
                                 

                     REMEMBERING WILLIAM G. SESLER

 Mr. CASEY. Mr. President, today I wish to honor the life of 
William G. Sesler, Esq., 89, who passed away peacefully on May 22, 
2017. Bill's exceptional service to our country in the U.S. Air Force, 
his dedication as a public servant in Pennsylvania, and his unwavering 
commitment to underserved communities throughout his career are worthy 
of recognition. His contributions to the Commonwealth will never be 
forgotten.
  I ask that the obituary from Gregory P. Sesler from May 26 be printed 
in the Record.
  The material follows:

       Thank you to the hospital care takers, physicians, pastors, 
     friends, relatives, church community and family.
       I was on my way home from the hospital last week after 
     having just left my father and after the decision had been 
     made by the family to put him on palliative care. It was 
     hard, my mother was awesome. A wave of sadness swept over me 
     as I began to think of all of the things I would soon not be 
     able to with him again in this world. But then I thought of 
     all the things we had been able to do together and what a 
     blessed life he had lived.
       Maybe we wouldn't climb Mount Washington together again, 
     but we did it once. No longer would we sail the Chesapeake, 
     go iceboating, travel on the German autobahn, see the 
     Reformation Wall in Geneva, go to Africa to Ngorongoro 
     crater, or go transatlantic on the QE II, but we had had a 
     chance to do them all before. We had travelled thousands of 
     miles and done dozens of business deals together, eaten lunch 
     together at the Maenerchor Club hundreds of times. No he 
     wouldn't drive my Jaguar way too fast again, or sail our 
     Catalina sailboat or visit Civil War Battle Fields or see the 
     wild horses of the Outerbanks, or see the Northern Lights in 
     Alberta or the great cathedrals of Europe, or return to 
     Kenyon College for another reunion or read his letters to the 
     Editor. But we had been able to do all of those things 
     together.
       We got the chance to shoot pheasants in South Dakota, geese 
     in North Dakota, go to Mexico with his grandchildren, see the 
     cliffs of Western Ireland, listen to Pavarotti at the Warner, 
     smoke cigars on the back porch, banter about an article in 
     the New York times, argue about business decisions, drink too 
     much wine on a fishing trip in Canada, and enjoy over 50 
     Christmas parties together.
       Although I will never again have to endure his criticism or 
     crave his praise or chase a bear out of our campsite within 
     the Smokey Mountains, I have been able to do all of those 
     things with him.
       Although he won't be bursting into my office on December 
     23rd and having me accompany him to buy an apartment's worth 
     of furniture for a refugee family, or feeling the pride of 
     seeing my aged parents volunteer in the homeless shelter, I 
     did get to do that with him once.
       There may be no more deer hunting or trout fishing trips to 
     Potter County or camping on the Outer Banks, or horseback 
     riding in the Allegheny Forests, or watching World War II 
     documentaries or going to James Bond movies on my birthday, 
     but not everybody gets the chance to create this wealth of 
     memories and for that chance I have been very blessed.
       But while Dad loved to travel and do and experience life in 
     a very full way, and to share those experiences with his 
     children and grandchildren generously, it was his transfer of 
     character, drive, and confidence to us that was his greatest 
     gift. He also instilled in us an innate curiosity of the 
     world. We both thank him and curse him for our restless 
     discursive minds. My mother once said that one of the reasons 
     she married my dad 59 years ago was because she knew her life 
     would never be boring. She was right.
       My dad was a non-politically correct liberal. He cared for 
     people and believed in government as an agent of good, but he 
     wasn't shy about criticizing the slothful or undisciplined. 
     He wasn't afraid to refer to sloppy or vague thinking as BS. 
     He admired the great planners who got things done. General 
     George Marshall was one of those. He was not an admirer of 
     Donald Trump. After William had been in the ICU for four days 
     and

[[Page 9082]]

     we were able to wean him from the ventilator, he asked for 
     his New York Times. His first comment when opening the paper 
     was ``He fired Comey? What the hell!''
       I had a special relationship with my dad. After returning 
     to Erie from law school in 1984 we worked together for 33 
     years. Logged thousands of miles together, built 15 office 
     buildings together, had many triumphs and losses, made money 
     and lost money. We had fights, we had love, and I wouldn't 
     trade any of it. Thanks Dad. Thanks for helping with my kid's 
     college tuition, thanks for helping me buy a house, thanks 
     for teaching me about the law and making me a better lawyer. 
     Thank you for making me a more careful thinker, thank you for 
     being my business partner, for being the family patriarch and 
     also a great dad.
       He was a man who was confident, direct, capable, and 
     precise, who valued careful thinking, reasoning and planning, 
     he could be a tough dad and a demanding boss, and even though 
     he was often a critic you didn't want to hear, you often knew 
     in the back of your mind that the criticism was justified.
       You were also a patriarch who greatly loved and cared for 
     your family and were so generous to all of us, monetarily, 
     intellectually, spiritually, and emotionally--you gave us so 
     much. You made our lives and the lives of many people who we 
     will never know so much better with this love, your public 
     service and the resolve to get things done.
       And so, we thank the Lord this day for the life of this 
     man, my dad, and ask God to hold him in the palm of his hand, 
     to keep him safe, to care for him, to love him and to welcome 
     him into eternal life.

                          ____________________