Benedict Thomas Kemper Obituary
Benedict Kemper: The Sky Was Never the Limit
1935-2025
Benedict Thomas Kemper flew at his own speed—sometimes literally. On February 17th, 2025, at the age of almost 90, Ben completed his final flight plan, peacefully surrounded by family in California. He left behind a trail of laughter, love, and (often too-long) stories that will be retold for generations.
Ben's adventure began in 1935, but truly took flight when he met his high school sweetheart, Margie. Ben earned an engineering degree from Clarkson College (and plenty of un-retellable fraternity tales) before marrying at St Patrick's Catholic Church in Bayshore, NY. Over the course of six years, Ben and Margie created a large, beautiful family.
When fate dealt him a cruel blow—leaving him a widower at just 32, with five children aged 2-7—he didn't start spiraling down.
Instead, Ben remained human gravity. As before, if he was in a room, that's where you'd find everyone else. Like a beacon of light, people were drawn to his orbit. His jokes—of which there were roughly a million—could make even the crankiest crack a smile. Or at least roll their eyes.
With five little ones looking up to him, Ben quickly learned to fly by the seat of his pants. He tried to get the kids what they needed (even if it wasn’t always what they asked for). With the dedicated help of family members, he ensured all his kids stayed together, under one consistent roof.
Ben literally started to fly when he earned his private pilot's license and purchased a two-seater Aerocoupe plane. He'd take three children up at a time (yes, four people in a two-seater, but hey, the kids were small). Later, his larger four-seater Cessnas squeezed in all five children and the family dog Ivan.
There’s no doubt Ben's love for family, faith, and fun was as boundless as the skies he loved to navigate. And when all five successful children graduated from college and flew the coop on their own—life surprised him with marriage and sixth child/third son.
Throughout the years, Ben brazenly and repeatedly cheated death. “Lazarus,” as he was jokingly referred to, had three open-heart surgeries (and to solidify his point, four months after his first, he went parachuting). He outsmarted three otherwise lethal bee stings (being allergic made it all the more interesting), a brain aneurism, and even a fourth heart surgery for a defibrillator. When the aviation authorities questioned whether a man with a replacement pig heart valve should be allowed to fly, Ben didn't just argue—he won a precedent-setting legal case that opened the skies for him and countless others. He flew for decades longer, until his new mechanical valve forced him to give up his plane keys for good. (Even then he’d sneak up for a few quick flights. Classic Ben.)
During each hospital stay, Ben reacted with a smile, a joke, and a gentle reminder to pray.
His career with the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation took him and the five kids from Long Island to the Albany NY area before the California sunshine called him and his youngest to San Diego and Arizona. Eventually, he found his own perfect landing strip on beautiful Hilton Head Island, where the ocean breeze carried away worries and the sunsets reminded everyone that endings can be beautiful too.
Benedict leaves behind a constellation of loved ones: son Christopher and wife Barbara; daughter Carolyn; son George and wife Kelly (grandson Ben and wife Denise, great-grandson Ben and great-granddaughter Kennedy); daughter Geri and husband Hugo (son Christian, great-granddaughter Olivia, daughter Margie); daughter Elizabeth “Bitsy” and husband Vince (granddaughter Lucy, grandsons Mitch and Vinny); and son Tekoda “Tek”. He joins his beloved Margie, other relatives including his sister Jane, and many, many friends in what we can only assume is the most animated, joke-filled reunion the afterlife has ever held.
For a man who spent so much time defying gravity, Benedict Kemper's true legacy was teaching us all how to remain grounded in what matters most…family, faith, and love. (And maybe a joke or two.)
Clear skies and tailwinds, dear Captain Ben. We'll be looking up, knowing you're still soaring.
**Services to be scheduled in Hilton Head Island, SC, in summer 2025
March 18, 2025
Ed and Jenny Beckler planted 30 trees