Thomas Edward Hopfinger was first diagnosed with cancer back in January 2019. The disease took root in his kidneys, an especially virulent and aggressive cancer that takes a vast majority of its victims within a year.
But Herr Hopfinger defied the odds due to his solid Germanic stock and will. He persevered for nearly five years. It was not easy as the cocktail of drugs made him ill many a morning. But he remained stoic about his terrible misfortune, and determined to get the most out of life despite his illness and knowledge of cancer’s constant, looming presence. He lived his middle-age credo: If not now; when?
Tom initiated get togethers with friends, journeyed to visit with out-of-town son and daughter, and traveled with his wife Tina. He remained determined to get the most out life for what he knew was limited.
Long ago in a town called Cape, Tom was the champion Tau beer chugger. In his prime, he could down several chugs in a row and grow boisterous in a rip-roaring way, but never mean-spirited. Not surprisingly, he became Social Chairman, a job that spread cheer and kegs to Twin Trees, Fountain House, and elsewhere. The Bulldog from Ber-kel-ey (that’s three syllables folks) set a Tau record for most kegs delivered to party sites. Tom could not sing worth a hoot, and loved to demonstrate his tin ear when he sang ‘it’s a beautiful morning” and any number of xmas songs that he sang in months other than December. And of course his open-ended questions that started with something like “for a hundred million dollars, would you……”
After his illness, Tom made the effort to drive on down for the evening of Day 2 of our annual Float Trip on the Current River–his health would not allow for more than that. He arrived at Float Camp late Saturday afternoon, and revived our flagging spirits after our Friday night partying and a day on the river.
Tom made his last float in 2023 memorable. He energized our group, repeating many times while laughing that he felt like a 100 dollars; and that it turn made us feel the same. That night, Hop continually changed seats moving around the group who sat in a circle around the fire where he followed his penchant for asking folks questions, and more importantly actually listening to their answers.
Indeed, Thomas Hopfinger was in tune to others, and sensitive to their feelings. He rarely called anyone by his given nickname–especially if tinged with negative connotations. He never referred to Dennis, Craig or Kenny by their common monikers–Garboon, Worm or Weasel. When an active in the fraternity road a pledge ‘over the top’, the pledge marched out of the chapter room intent on resignation. Tom saw what was up, brought the pledge back down and in words unrecorded told the out-of-line active to back off. The pledge stayed on and happily became an active member of the fraternity.
Tom liked to say in jest that he was our moral compass, which always drew a laugh. But like most comedic remarks, a ring of truth rang through.
We admired Thomas’ stolid reaction to his fate when he lost his well-paid job when his employer was purchased by a competitor. Tom lived in large house in a nice neighbor with his two children and his second wife’s two children comfortably enrolled in good schools and secure with friends. Tom found another job with a cut in pay, but rather than bemoan his fate, and down-sizing his home, he instead took on a second job working early mornings at UPS so his children could stay put. Proof positive that Herr Hopfinger was a true mensch.
When the wizard of oz gave a heart to the tin man, the wizard reminded him that a person’s heart is not judged by how much he loves, but rather by how much he is loved by others. By that measure, Tom had a huge heart. His passing leaves a hole for those who knew and loved him.
(updated six months from the date of Tom’s passing; still strange and sad that he is no longer with us. As his long-time friend said about his position within his inner circle of friends: Tom was the linchpin.