Leon’s memorial service was held in the arena of their home place Friday a week ago. With friends and family gathering in the barn afterwards to visit, it was just the type of send-off that Leon would have appreciated. The family will have another memorial service back in New York this summer. The words written below by their daughter Kate, we are posting so that family and friends back home can share as well.
Eulogy for Leon Angevine by Kate Sanchez
If you’re here today, you probably knew Leon Angevine pretty well. Well enough to know the kind of man he was, to have probably received one of the big hugs he loved to give, and well enough to know what was most important in his life. Knowing Leon even a little means you knew an individual who, at times, said few words, but always meant what he said. In knowing him even the slightest bit, means you know how hard he worked for the things that meant the most to him.
Leon loved sports. From a young age through high school where he found success in being heavily scouted by Penn State to play football, it was one of the great loves in the early parts of his life. He was a senior in 1969 when the team won the Orange Bowl. He went on to be drafted by the Philadelphia Eagles in the 15th round of the 1969 draft. A career cut short by injury never lessened his love for the game though. He wholeheartedly enjoyed watching college and pro football, especially his Dallas Cowboys. Over the years his love for another sport developed, as he looked forward to his frequent golf games with his wife and friends. To him, it was a welcomed challenge where he excelled, and as he often said, kept him humble; although we know, he already was.
Leon loved horses. Not just the animal, but the true techniques of fine horsemanship. Maintaining a demeanor that even the newest of acquaintances could recognize, he approached training horses like a partnership. He felt as though rushing through the most basic steps of fundamental training was never the correct approach, but instead read his counterparts, treated them as equals, and worked to build an everlasting trust and bond with them. There was seldom a piece of literature that he wouldn’t read about advancing his techniques, and never was there a conversation about a horse that he wouldn’t engage in. Although he trained, coached, and mentored many successful horses and riders over the years, it was never a job for him. He treated each animal as one wishes the world would treat other human beings; with respect and understanding.
More than anything, Leon’s family was the one true love of his life. His children, grandchildren, and wife of almost 30 years, were what he worked his hardest for. He loved to watch all his kids in their sporting events and activities, and was especially proud to be able to coach them on several occasions. He was a wonderful father, role model, and most of all, friend. He was grateful to be able to experience the wonderful times at holidays and other events with his grandchildren, even living half way across the country. He didn’t often beam so brightly with pride, as he did when he spoke about them. His love for his wife, Susan, was obvious to anyone who encountered them. It was a love that could easily make others envious, but there was not time for envy, because between her chatty personality and his genuine yearning to truly know different people, they’d make you a friend of theirs first. One thing that so many people comment on remembering the two of them for, is how they danced. Notably, not quite a two-step, it seems as though no one else could dance with each of them as they could together. But that was them, always in time, always in sync, and always moving to their own beat as one unit.
These loves of his life were things he worked tirelessly for. Coincidentally enough, it was obvious to those around him that little work was required, he was a natural, and excelled at all of them in his very own way. Leon approached life with enthusiasm, an infectious laugh, and most of all, a purpose. He was a kind man; whether he was petting a dog, training a horse, or holding a baby, he’d do so in the gentlest manner. He was full of integrity and compassion; knew a hard day’s work, but also how to enjoy life’s most tender moments. Simply put, he was a man loved by many and missed by all. May he rest in peace, and always ride the very best horses heaven has to offer.
