Terry Wayne Ward's funeral service turned out to be the perfect sendoff for a guy who "couldn't give a damn about most material things," according to his now famous obituary. 
 
 The atypical service was held Saturday at Geisen Funeral Home in Crown Point, where his daughter works and where she said her final goodbye to her one-of-a-kind father. 
 
 Jean Lahm, of Lowell, did so with smiles, laughter and funny stories about her dad, who died Jan. 23. Ward was 71. His attitude, however, could be that of a 17-year-old, or a 37-year-old, or possibly a 7-year-old, depending on his mood. 
 
 Not only did Ward's obit reflect his life. His life reflected his obit, which can't be said for most obits I've read. 
 
 Most obits read like fill-in-the-blank form letters, written with all the character of a closed casket. It's as if they're compiled by TV police detective Joe Friday from "Dragnet" – "All we want are the facts, ma'am." 
 
 Not Ward's obit, though, which went viral on social media and has since been shared by countless news outlets across the country. 
 
 "He retired from AT&T after 39 years of begrudging service, where he accumulated roughly 3,000 rolls of black electrical tape during the course of his career (which he used for everything from open wounds to "Don't use this button" covers)," Lahm wrote in her father's obit. 
 
 Ward's obit didn't only describe him, it defined him, in a wonderful and memorable way. Thanks entirely to Lahm, who didn't tell a soul she was planning on writing a humorous obit for her always-humorous father. 
 
 "When I showed my family, they absolutely loved it. Right from the bat, they said it was perfect," she told me. 
 
 Just as her obit reflected her father's life, so did his funeral service. With lots of laughs about his storied life. For instance, the story about Ward when he was employed by AT&T, working out of the Lake Village substation in Newton County. 
 
 "It was pretty cool because I would be driving in that area and I would see him from time to time," Lahm recalled to guests Saturday. "One day I was driving down the road and sure enough I saw his AT&T truck pulled off to the side." 
 
 "He was working on a large box there, and he had it opened up with what looked like hundreds of different-colored wires pulled out all over the place. I remember thinking how complex. I was pretty impressed. I pulled up next to him and rolled down the window." 
 
 Provided by Jean Lahm A photo collage greets mourners at the Jan. 27, 2018 funeral for Terry Ward, 71, of DeMotte, at Geisen Funeral Home in Crown Point. A photo collage greets mourners at the Jan. 27, 2018 funeral for Terry Ward, 71, of DeMotte, at Geisen Funeral Home in Crown Point. (Provided by Jean Lahm) (Provided by Jean Lahm) 
 
 "Hi, dad! How's it going?" Lahm asked her father. 
 
 "Oh, pretty good!" Ward replied. "It's just times like these that I wish I wasn't colorblind." 
 
 This was one of several personal stories Lahm shared with mourners. It reflected the lighthearted spirit of the obituary she wrote from her heart, not from her head. 
 
 "I love that humor resonates with people in regards to an obituary," she told me after the funeral. "Being in the funeral industry, I've seen that when families can come together, celebrate a life and truly laugh, it's what helps them heal." 
 
 Because of that obit, who knows how many people now know about Ward. Most of them agreed they wished they had met him when he was alive. 
 
 "What really mattered to me most was that we were able to celebrate his life with a proper sendoff," Lahm said. "It was with all the people who knew and loved him, laughing and laughing." 
 
 Many of those people gathered again at the funeral home's reception center after the funeral service. 
 
 "You better believe a few of us tilted back a Heineken in his memory," Lahm said. 
 
 Ward's family read many online comments from strangers who expressed an interest in attending the funeral for a man they never met. Yet, through his obit, they somehow did. 
 
 "We had one floral arrangement sent from a complete stranger in Pennsylvania with the simple message, 'There Are More of Us Out There,'" Lahm said. "Wow." 
 
 By Monday, more than 700 people signed the online guestbook that accompanied his obit. 
 
 "This has made me think about of lot of things these past few days," Lahm told me. 
 
 One year ago this week I wrote about Tom Shanahan, a Crown Point pastor who has officiated "eulogies of celebration" at more than 300 funeral services. 
 
 "Today we didn't come here to mourn a death, but to celebrate a life," he cheerfully told mourners at a funeral service last January. 
 
 There's nothing like attending a funeral, anyone's funeral, to serve as a sober reminder about what's important in life. Laughter is one of those things, Lahm reminded us. 
 
 I asked her if anyone actually attended her father's funeral or visitation who didn't know him, as a direct result of his obit. She didn't think so at first, but then she double-checked his guestbook and condolences cards. 
 
 One couple from Mundelein, Ill., showed up and left a card. 
 
 "They wrote a note that they wish they had met my dad," Lahm said. 
 
 All of us who read that obit also wished we had met Ward. 
 
 In fact, one of the most unique aspects of Ward's obit was that I never once wondered how he died or what killed him, as I do with most obits and deaths. Truth is, I didn't care how he died because I was so intrigued about how he lived. 
 
 This should be the legacy of every obit. We have Ward and his daughter to thank for this obviously needed reminder. 
 
 jdavich@post-tribcom 
 
 Twitter@jdavich ||||| × Indiana veteran leaves behind hilarious obituary 
 
 DEMOTTE, Ind. – A northwest Indiana woman decided the style of traditional obituaries didn’t quite fit her dad’s personality, so she wrote up one that did. 
 
 “He lived to make other people laugh…it was the only way to honor him properly,” said daughter, Jean Lahn, of Lowell. 
 
 Terry Ward moved to Demotte from suburban Illinois in 1973 after serving in the Vietnam War. The Army veteran wanted a quiet place in the country after participating in active combat. 
 
 During her work at Geisen Funeral Home, she has seen her fair share of stale obituaries, usually set up the the exact same way. 
 
 “I wrote it myself and I didn’t tell anyone I was going to make it funny,” Jean said. 
 
 After reading it, the rest of her family said it was perfect and shared many laughs. 
 
 Ward “escaped his mortal realm” on Tuesday after suffering a stroke. His daughter wants to thank all of the hospital staff at Southlake Methodist Hospital for caring for him for five days before he passed. 
 
 Highlights include, “He never owned a personal cell phone and he had zero working knowledge of the Kardashians.” and “Terry graduated from Thornridge High School in South Holland, IL, where only three of his teachers took an early retirement after having had him as a student.” 
 
 In lieu of flowers, the family says donations can be made at your favorite watering hole. 
 
 Read the full obituary below: ||||| My father passed almost 9 years ago and this past April 7th would have been his 70th birthday. It was a tough day and he is always on my mind in one way or another. I stumbled across Terry's obituary, and I want to say thank you. Even though I didn't know him, I know he was a great guy. This helped me remember my dad in this way as well. I am very sorry for your loss, but please know that this is making many people who read this laugh and cry(in a good way) about their own Terry. Thank you...
– "He lived to make other people laugh," says an Indiana woman of her father, who died last Tuesday after suffering a stroke. Terry Ward is now generating plenty of chuckles thanks to the obituary daughter Jean Lahn wrote for the Army veteran. Fox59 reports she's a little more familiar with obits than most, as she works at a funeral home where she comes across plenty of routine and formulaic remembrances. The 71-year-old doesn't get that from the get-go. His obit kicks off by saying Ward "escaped this mortal realm ... leaving behind 32 jars of Miracle Whip, 17 boxes of Hamburger Helper and multitudes of other random items that would prove helpful in the event of a zombie apocalypse." She charts his progress from high school ("only three of his teachers took an early retirement after having had him as a student") to marriage ("in the fall of 1969, perfectly between the Summer of Love and the Winter of Regret") to his 39 years of work with telephone companies, during which "he accumulated roughly 3,000 rolls of black electrical tape." Lahn wrote that he "despised 'uppity foods' like hummus, which his family lovingly called 'bean dip' for his benefit, which he loved consequently." Speaking of loves, his included "shooting guns, Bed Bath & Beyond, starlight mints, cold beer, free beer, The History Channel, CCR ... and above all, his family." As for those who loved him, they're invited to make donations in his name to "your favorite watering hole, where you are instructed to tie a few on and tell a few stories of the great Terry Ward." Read the obit in full here, or read some more tales about him, courtesy of the Post-Tribune.