It's a delayed and proper wake for a man who never really had one. Of course, there was a funeral for Monte Tewksbury 19 years ago. But strangers came. Police. Reporters.

        This man — conventional in so many ways — died an unconventional and violent death. So he became news. Then as the legal system lumbered toward justice, he became a cause. A rallying cry for those in favor of the death penalty. A footnote for those opposed.

Tewksbury

        And his family found themselves blinking in the spotlight. His widow, Sharon Tewksbury, is proud of her kids. Proud, too, that she managed to hang in there.

        “Sometimes we just didn't know how we could do it.” Another hearing. Another delay. But they always rallied. Matt, who was 12 when his father was murdered, witnessed the execution of John Byrd Jr. this February in Lucasville. Like a mother pheasant, dragging a wing, luring predators away from her young, Sharon Tewksbury waited in Cincinnati.

        “I didn't want us to be part of one of those stories, having the cameras follow us to the death house.” Smart and determined, Sharon learned to get the cameras aimed where she thinks they belong — on her husband.

No cardboard saint

        Somehow — and credit for this probably belongs to Sharon — Monte Tewksbury has not been reduced to a cardboard saint. A scientist for Procter & Gamble, he was murdered while he moonlighted as a clerk at a King Kwik. His three kids revere his goodness, his generosity. But they allow themselves to laugh about his big, yellow “Archie Bunker” chair. They roll their eyes, remembering their father mowing the lawn in plaid shorts and black socks.

        He made them laugh, and he made them behave. He opened his home to children who did not technically belong to him. He coached. He taught Sunday School. He loved egg sandwiches, Road Runner cartoons, balladeer Roger Whittaker and his family. Not in that order.

        At then-Providence Hospital on that terrible night, Sharon says “people did heroic things for Monte. And I will never forget how they treated me.” Thoughtfully. With great care. “And I never thanked them. I didn't even know who they were.”

        They were the first.

        Then there were others, neighbors, friends, co-workers, police, prosecutors, support groups — “so many people who have been there for us. We want to thank them.”

        From 1 to 6 p.m. on Sunday, April 21, the Tewksbury family will host a “celebration of Monte's life” at the Marriott Northeast on Mason-Montgomery Road. Donations will be accepted on behalf of Parents of Murdered Children, which is taking reservations at 721-5683. Or you can e-mail tewksbus@aol.com.

        If you feel “a connection to us,” Sharon wants you to come to this delayed and proper wake, the kind where you cry, then remember some silly story and wind up amazing yourself by managing to laugh through grief.

        On April 21, Monte Tewksbury — temporarily a victim, a cause, a news story — will be remembered for what he was during the 40 years before he died. A good boy who became a good man. A good neighbor. A husband. A father.

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