A million memories

Eric Dale Lang, 50, Overbrook, Kansas died Tuesday, September 2, 2025 at the University of Kansas Medical Center in Kansas City, Kansas.  

He was born February 5, 1975 in Topeka, Kansas.  The son of Larry and Nancy Lang.  He graduated from Santa Fe Trail high school with the class of 1993.  He then attended Kaw Area Vocational School.  

Eric was a lifelong farmer and cattleman, working most of his life with his father, Larry.

Eric enjoyed visiting with his friends and family, telling stories and having a drink together.  He loved being a dad.  His son, Clayton was his whole world.  He enjoyed helping Clayton as well as his nieces and nephews with 4-H at the fair.  He loved his cattle.  Eric loved helping people and celebrating the 4th of July.  His family will miss his grin and his giggle the most. 

He is survived by his parents, Nancy and Larry Lang, of Overbrook, KS, his son, Clayton Lang, of Overbrook KS, two sisters, Hope Koger and her husband, Jim, of Overbrook, KS, and Amy Lang of Overbrook, KS, and a brother, Brian Lang and his wife, Stephanie, of Baldwin Ks, 11 nieces and nephews and 3 great nieces and nephews with one on the way.  

Funeral services will be at 10:30 am on Thursday, September 11, 2025 at Rock Creek Cemetery in Overbrook KS.  To celebrate Eric's life, a visitation will be held from 6-8 pm Wednesday, September 10 at Lamb Roberts Funeral Home.

That is my brother's obituary.   It seems surreal to read it.  Never once in my life did I ever think about what my brother's obituary might say.  The mortician, who has never met Eric wrote it.  He based it off of a few questions he asked us, and it is nicely written and describes Eric fairly accurately.  But Eric was just so much more.  I feel like he deserves so   many more words than this.  

I remember a few years ago, when my father-in-law passed away, my sister-in-law, wrote a beautiful obituary that was quite verbose (sorry Pam).  At that time, I remember thinking she wrote so eloquently about a man who was quite impactful, and even though she wrote a lot, it didn't quite cover it adequately.  She wrote about 9 paragraphs, and you would probably need about 9 chapters - maybe more.  You just had to be there to understand it I guess.  And now, as I read this obituary, again it is well written, but inadequate.  My brother was just so much more.  His life was so much more.  He meant so much more than a couple of paragraphs.  I was overwhelmed with memories.  Overwhelmed with sadness over the loss in our lives.  I am sad that my new grandson won't learn his first cuss words from his great uncle.  I am sad that my kids won't have new tales of insane things that happen.  I am sad that my parents are devastated and hurting.  I am sad that there is a permanent hole where a great man once stood.  And I am sad that I am sad because my brother would want me to laugh - he was a peacemaker, a great storyteller, who constantly made you laugh and a person who rolled with the punches, rarely getting mad or overly upset.  Eric deserves more than my sadness.  

My parents farmed with my grandparents when I was growing up.  When my grandparents passed away, my brother bought out their part of the farm.  My dad's siblings all live within a 40 mile radius, but most of them live less than 2 miles away.  This meant that we lived a life with everyone consistently together.  Cousins always in our yard, grandma helping mom in the kitchen, Grandpa in and out all day long every single day.  We were taught that families stick together.  My grandpa used to tell us "if you ain't got family, you ain't got nothin." and he truly lived this.  Eric was the same.  He literally would do anything for you.  He would literally drop what he was doing to come if you needed help.  All of us - all his cousins, all of his siblings, and all aunts and uncles, his nieces and nephews - my mom and dad, we have all called on him.  He sometimes shook his head, he may have made you part of his story telling line up, but not one time did I hear him complain about it.  

My family was only rich in love.  We never lacked for the things we needed, but we sometimes had to work for the things we wanted.  My brother constantly had his wants unmet because he wanted unrealistic things - like when my grandparents traveled to Mexico and he wanted a real conquistador bull whip.  Seemed unsafe to them, (and to the people I KNOW he would have hit with it) and so my grandma brought him back a sombrero instead.  His face always showed his true feelings!  

I was noticing that every time he had the biggest smiles, he is holding cake - I never thought about it until we were going through photos with mom, but I think the boy loved cake!  

One morning, someone (Uncle Leo) left a goat.  It was meant to be a joke - it would be hilarious when mom went to feed calves if this goat came up right?  Except the goat didn't stay in the shed with the calves, it escaped to the pen with dad's milk cows.  Dad was not confused, he was flat unhappy - because he knew it was a joke, but that we would want to keep it.  Eric talked dad into letting her stay, and that is how Clara ended up at the farm. 

My brother loved 4-H.  More accurately, he loved the county fair.  Even as an adult, he was almost giddy with excitement.  He often showed up to help my kids, and when Clayton was showing, he was not on the fence giving directions like some of the show dads, he was leaning there, with his big goofy grin just taking it all in.  You could tell he was absolutely happy.  

Eric loved having the cousins around all the time.  We grew up together, and we have all remained pretty close.  

Side note, my grandma was always shoving many children where only a few should have been  - the bathtub photo above - was at her house - she commonly shoved as many kids that wanted to go into her car - even having to stagger us on the seat and let some ride on the floor or in the back window- she was more concerned with including us all than with safety I think.  Or it was the 80's - was anyone really safe!?!?  

My brother went through a phase where he wanted to be the best dressed.  Shopping with him was miserable - because he was so picky about color, and the right cut, and the brand name.  It is hard to believe if you saw him recently in his bibs with his old Carhartt coat, but it is true.  His 8th grade graduation, he had a battle royale with my mom - because he wanted to rent a tuxedo.  She thought this was unnecessary (she was right).  He won, but he had to use his own money for it.  The Miami Vice tux - he did look nice - but may have been a tad overdressed!  

Eric's first car - (and his senior photo).  He went to a dealership and asked how much the car would be - including taxes and fees.  Then he withdrew the exact amount from his savings account and had dad drive him up to get it.  He plopped several thousand dollars down on the desk, and they promptly called the police to see if he was known for drug activity.  My dad laughed saying he never thought that people don't generally pay for vehicles in cash.  

Eric's 4th of July parties were always a highlight of our summer.  He was carrying on a tradition that my grandparents started.  He loved blowing stuff up, smoking meats and having a few beers.....or maybe more than a few!

Eric was a hard worker.  Farm life is just not an easy life.  He was the one person who knew how to work with my dad.  When to push, how hard to push, when to walk away, and how long to stay away.  He was always dirty, always busy, and somehow, always there when you needed him.