This post was shared by Christine Soper and Preston Norman.

On January 19th, my grandad, “Poppy”, John Wayne Soper, departed this life. He was an unbelievable man. Raised in humble beginnings, the son of a small-town doctor in rural Oklahoma. But he had big aspirations. He earned his Ph.D in Chemistry from Johns Hopkins University. He went on to teach as a chemistry professor at the Naval Academy in Maryland. From there he went on to work at the state medical examiners office. It was at that time he met and fell in love with my grandmother. They married and their family eventually moved back to Oklahoma. When he got here, he began working for the FAA as a forensic toxicologist, where he retired. His love for my grandma, and his family was exceptional. Through feast and through famine, he was faithful. A shining example of what I strive to be as a husband and father.

We used to joke that he was an “alphabet collector” because of the many credentials that followed his name. To this day, I don’t know what most of those credentials are, but I found his business card a few days ago and couldn’t help but laugh that those certification letters outnumber letters in his name 3 to 1.

John W. Soper, PH.D

F-ABT, DABCC (TC, CC) DABB (HCLD, CC), FAAFS, FAIC, FAACC

The older I got, the more and more I admired him. I think our relationship grew the most throughout my later high school years when I really started to fall in love with math and science. Through chemistry in my junior year, he was always eagerly awaiting my beginner level questions about balancing equations, and arrangement of the periodic table. No question was ever too simple for him, or a waste of his time. As I started studying physics my senior year, I learned of the depth for his knowledge in this arena as well and we would spend hours talking about theoretical and particle physics, often boring everyone else in the room.

A true polymath, “Poppy” was an endless source of conversation, being able to hold a conversation with anyone about anything. He knew religion, he knew politics, he knew science and math, he was a lover of classical music and theater, always good with a book or movie recommendation. And you didn’t have to chase him down, he was always ready and waiting to talk to anyone. I never once saw him disinterested or disengaged in any conversation. He could, and did, find interest in every conversation he ever had.

And what I found most admirable was his faith, and his steadfast commitment to his strong convictions. His love for science was only surpassed by his love for his creator.

In the world of academia, and particularly in the hard sciences, it can be difficult to identify as a person of faith. A field that, understandably, relies on tangible evidence for everything, something like an intangible creator is hard to accept. But once he became a man of faith, I never knew him to falter. The more he learned and studied, the more it made him in awe of his creator. But he didn’t just stop there. He was passionate about the marriage of science and the Christian faith. He was excited to explore and explain how the two could not only coexist, but could reinforce each other. He was so passionate about this endeavor that he taught classes on the subject.

When Poppy was diagnosed with MDS, a fairly uncommon type of cancer which is effectively a precursor to Leukemia, he did not take the fight sitting down. He stood up and fought back, hard. He devoured information and understood innately the information being passed on by his physicians. He was an active participant in his treatment plan, probably unique among most cancer patients in that he understood the underlying condition and chemistry of his treatments probably as much or more than anyone in his situation. He was also an active encourager of others he met who shared his condition. He wrote articles describing his journey, made friends in the waiting room, even joined Facebook so he could stay in touch with those who joined along this journey.

Reflecting on his life and our relationship, there are many things I’m tremendously grateful for, and many places I can see he left his mark. And there are two things that I know he wanted to impart on everyone. Two pieces of him I hope to carry on throughout my life and instill on my children, and everyone around me: first and foremost, Jesus Christ was the center of his life. He wanted always to live to glorify Christ, and wanted everyone in his path to experience the same eternal joy and peace he had found. And second, Poppy had an insatiable appetite for knowledge all the way to the end. He was perpetually a student, and would encourage everyone to be the same. Never stop learning.

And while it hurts to say goodbye, we rest comfortable in the assurance of his eternity, and knowing that he’s released from the burden and pain of this physical body.

Under unfortunate circumstances last spring, traveling to attend the funeral of another very close family member, I got to spend several days driving across country with Grandma and Poppy. An experience that was quite the adventure, but one that I would never trade for all the riches in this life. I drove for hours with Poppy at my side pouring out his wisdom. We told stories, we shared knowledge, we laughed (mostly at Christine Soper crossing the center line when she drove ). And after a long exhausting day on the road when all I wanted was to get a couple hours of sleep, I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to share a meal and some 1 on 1 time when Poppy wanted to go next door and eat at Huddle House at 1am. We shared some of the deepest conversation I ever remember having with him, and I would give anything to sit there with him for just another minute.

He fought the good fight, he finished the race, he kept the faith.

This is one of John’s blogs published on MDW-foundation.org.

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