Celebrating Uncle Kip, Tahoma Military Cemetery, Kent, WA
Flying High: Honoring Uncle Kip
In the fall of 2021, during the uncertainty of COVID, we gathered in Seattle to honor my Uncle Kip, Lt. Col. Christopher Chester Korper, USAF (Ret.). He lived an extraordinary life of service, generosity, and quiet heroism, both in and out of uniform.
Two of his sons, Kent and Kevin, asked for support with the planning, and as a professional planner, I was honored to step in. I coordinated the military funeral details with the funeral home and worked with Kent, my mom Cynny, and my aunt Candy to write his obituary. I also coordinated all of the flowers. The service was held at Tahoma National Cemetery in Kent, Washington, where Kip lived for many years. He is now interred in the columbarium.
The ceremony was unforgettable. Despite pandemic restrictions, the funeral director told us it was the largest gathering they’d seen under the outdoor committal shelter. Steve and I flew out to be there in person. We also set up a Zoom feed so older relatives and faraway friends in WI, CT, MN, CA, TX and other locations could attend the service virtually. It meant the world to them.
There was a full military salute, the ceremonial folding of the flag, and its presentation to Kent. His medals and photos were on display, a visual tribute to his 28 years of service in the Air Force, including combat rescue missions aboard HH-53C Jolly Greens in Vietnam, and his second career training pilots at Boeing.
But Kip's life wasn't only defined by service in the skies.
He was one of Seattle’s most dedicated Habitat for Humanity volunteers... so active, he received awards for his hours upon hours on job sites. He built homes, community, and lifelong friendships with his fellow volunteers. That spirit of service didn’t stop with him. My brother and his family now continue Kip’s legacy of Habitat volunteering here in Minnesota.
Kip always had a car in the garage, either his or a friend’s, and he was known to pull over on the side of the road to help a stranger whose vehicle had died. Not only would he give them a ride, he’d probably tow their car to his house and fix it. For free. That was Kip.
We didn’t host a big luncheon due to COVID, but the family gathered that evening for a small Italian dinner, full of stories, laughter, and memories.
Kip was the kind of person who made everyone feel like family. He had a tribe of friends and fellow volunteers who didn’t just know him—they built, flew, fished, fixed, and served with him.
He lived a life of service, skill, and generosity, with both hands always busy helping someone else. Years later, my brother was volunteering on a Habitat build in Minnesota and struck up a conversation with a fellow volunteer. He mentioned that his uncle used to volunteer with Habitat out in Seattle. The man paused and said, “Oh, my daughter volunteered out there. She met this really nice guy who helped her with her car…”
You guessed it. My uncle. Kip.
Now he rests in a place of honor, among others who answered the call to serve—his legacy carried on not just through medals or memorials, but in small, beautiful stories like that one. And in the lives he made better simply by showing up, tools in hand, ready to help.
