Thank you all for coming today. I am Mark Routbort, son of Jules.

We are gathered together today to mourn the death of Jules Routbort. Today we offer each other comfort in this time of loss. We are gathered here also to remember, and to give thanks that we have been touched by his life. We gather to celebrate his life. There is much to acknowledge - both great heights - and - great depths. So let us speak his name, recalling how his life intersected with ours.

My father was not a man for ceremonies, but he loved telling a good story or a good joke. So I think it fitting that you will hear some good stories about Jules today. I remember my dad primarily as a guy who both worked hard and played hard. He could generally take a joke as well as give one, and could go pretty far for a laugh. I remember once, when I was about 10 years old, having lost one of my last teeth and obviously too sophisticated to believe in fairy tales, he actually grabbed an old tutu from my sisters room, dressed up as the tooth fairy, and danced into my room to claim my tooth. I think there was some singing involved too, and if you ever heard him sing, you know that although he had many gifts, a sense of pitch was not one of them.

This is one of my silly memories of my dad. There are so many other memories. Visiting Argonne National Laboratory with Dad, back when they had firefighting equipment stalls along the corridors filled with impressive looking axes and helmets, and radiation sensors you stuck your hands into. I thought this was the coolest thing ever. I was pretty sure at the time that my Dad was a top secret nuclear physicist. It was not until later that I figured out materials science was not quite as glamorous as it seemed to mostly involve poking at small pieces of stuff. Backpacking the Pacific Crest Trail - two weeks of breathtaking beauty and two smelly guys in a pup tent. Amazing vacations as a kid, and later with my own kids. I can't scratch the surface of his life or what he meant to us. So, I just want to share, in no particular order, four things that I learned from my dad:

· Lesson #1: Like any good scientist, be profoundly skeptical of any claims, whether scientific, political, or mercantile. Seek to validate independently or at least corroborate. Easy, quick answers are usually wrong.

My father inadvertently taught me about the principle of the randomized double-blind study as a scientific method on one of our many skiing trips as a kid. Most of you probably know that my dad was a bit of a wine snob. On this particular trip, my dad had brought along an expensive bottle of wine, which he supplemented with a cheap bottle from a local grocery store. I was sent to open the cheap bottle, but accidentally uncorked and poured glasses of the expensive one. My dad proceeded to roundly condemn the expensive wine he was tasting as rotgut, and had to thereafter forever suffer our ribbing about his overhyped palate; something that he took with remarkably good grace.

· Lesson #2: Be stingy in everyday expenditures, but don't hold back when it comes to family or the "good stuff". What is the good stuff? Family, work, dogs, wine, good food, education, culture, travel.

My dad never threw anything away, although he wasn't a hoarder. He could be both legendarily cheap and amazingly generous. My dad packed my school lunch just about every day for me as a kid, somewhat to my chagrin as most of the other kids bought theirs. But we went on amazing vacations and traveled the world even as kids. I think what it comes down to is that my father thought carefully about what he wanted to spend his money on, and that he was determined to spend it wisely. As adults, my parents continued to sponsor wonderful vacations, supported us in buying our homes, and supported our kids' education and lessons.

· Lesson #3: Never procrastinate, even for a minute. It is more accurate to say that this is something my father taught me, then to say I really learned this.

We sometimes battled over this one. My own personality style is pretty last second. But events of the past week have shown me that you don't always have another day to get stuff done. When my father died suddenly and out of the blue, I guess I wasn't surprised that every bill was paid or in the bank system ready to go out automatically, that every single I was dotted and every T was crossed in his estate plans, and that - simply put - we were all taken care of.

· Lesson #4: When you are passionate about and love your work, it's a pleasure to get up everyday and get there. A life spent learning and teaching never gets boring.

In my dad's case, this involved getting to work by 6 a.m. most days, and really, in one way or another, bringing his scientific work to bear every single day of his life, even when sick, or on vacation. I'm lucky enough to have a job where I look forward to going to work every day, and I'm grateful to my dad for teaching me the importance of that. I don't think I will ever get up as early as he did, but I hope to spend every day active and learning, as he did.

For all these things you taught me, Dad, I am so grateful. I love you and miss you. You were an amazingly productive scientist and a great dad, grandfather, and husband. Part of you will always be with me, and you will live on in the hearts of your family and friends.