Hereupon is the concise eulogy given by

Gordon M. Williams on February 18, 1978

in Sodus, New York. It is shared at

Leona Hermenet's  request and is intended for

members of the family and others who value

the memory of Alfred J. Hermenet.

Alfred J. Hermenet

Eleven and one half years ago I did not even know 

how to pronounce his name. I don't remember the

first time I met everyone, but I do remember the

first time I met Al Hermenet.

Leona told me I could find him up at the Alasa Farm

in the orchards off Red Mill Road. Off went the city

slicker to meet Al Hermenet. I am used to working,

but you get me in a farm situation and I am out of my

element. It shows in the way I look, what I talk about,

and how I walk on the earth. There was a lot of

equipment moving the day I met Al and I asked

various workers if Mr. Hermenet was here.

Finally this strong man with a disarming smile

approached me and we talked for a few minutes.

He told me a little about the farm operation and

his family. I mentioned to him that I only knew

Wayne and Al smiled - a huge smile mixed with pride

and embarrassment - and said, "He's my buckwheat crop."

We laughed and I know what he talking about,

but this city boy is still very unsteady as to

exactly what buckwheat is.

Al Hermenet made a powerful impression on me then

and my impression never changed; it only became more

enlightened and embellished. He was an

exceedingly powerful and aggressive man, and yet

all of this was mellowed by what showed in his smile -

an openness to people, a sense of fair play, a passion

that makes for stubbornness and for love.

Maybe his power was generated by his immigrant

ancestors whereby the drive to excel and succeed

is inborn. Few would deny that the most strategically

correct and long lasting decision was his move to

marry Leona Tack. This gave him the needed

balance to sail through many troubled waters.

His children and his grandchildren were like all

large families sources of great pride and depending

on what age or condition you take note of,

a source of concern.

One consolation to my sorrow is that Al Hermenet

would have made one hell of an invalid. One hell of

an invalid in the sense that he was constantly

planning, doing, changing, moving, walking, driving.

He was a dynamo for the present and the future.

This was his aggressive and forceful nature

asserting itself in retirement, even after he had

showed us how to amass, how to do, and how to rise.

People of his kind do not make graceful invalids.

We are turning the complex man of strength, warmth,

and love over to God. Because we must. We must as

surely as the sun rose in the east. We must and we

have no other choice. Al worked with nature;

he fished it, he hunted it, he grew it, he nurtured it,

and where he could, he controlled it.

Al was a gift to us all not made by any hand here.

He has left us as mysteriously as he came

into our presence.

We ask that God will recognize our sorrow - accept our

anger and fears - and hear the laughter and

thanksgiving that are temporarily blotted out.

In times of personal sorrow I find solace in scriptures

such as this. Let me share it with you.

Isaiah 40:bc

The Lord is the everlasting God,

The Creator of the ends of the earth,

He does not faint or grow weary,

His understanding is unsearchable.