A mischievous kid from Columbia, Missouri, my Grandpa was born to the funniest woman in the world (Gussie Lee), and a WWI veteran who was a pharmacist by day, and a practical joker by night (Bishop Wilson). Papa went off to serve in the US army stationed in Germany, and he came back to attend Mizzou, becoming the first of three generations of Mizzou Tigers in our family. Since then we have all bled black and gold. He served as a foreman and production supervisor for some major industries. Needless to say, his background guaranteed him to be an onery one. He earned the nickname "Buck," and loved to fish, hunt, bike, spend time with his dog, woodwork, and eat orange slice candies and peanut butter sandwiches.  

Ironically, this witty man was called to the ministry and preached for 31 years, mostly for the United Methodist Church. This job required him to drag my Mama Ellen, and their three kids (my dad Ted, my aunt Traci, and my uncle Tim), all over the state of Missouri so that he could share the good news. He felt the need to serve each community he was in, and was a member of the Masonic lodge, chambers of commerce, Lions club, Kiwanis Club, and was on the board for local Crime Stoppers.  He served as a law enforcement officer in two states, and as a Chaplain for four different law enforcement organizations. He served 10 years as a volunteer fire fighter. 

Beyond his onery wit and his huge heart, he was very smart. He was always reading, researching, learning, and ultimately teaching to his congregations, his flock,  his kids, and to us grandkids. 

My Papa was one of the first people to truly believe in me when I said I wanted to become a lawyer. He convinced his lawyer pal to go fishing with us. My Papa stuck his pal and me in this little aluminum two-person boat, and laughed from the shore of the pond as we puttered around, while I grilled his friend for over an hour about what it was like to be a lawyer. I was 10 years old at the time. 

By the time I actually reached law school, though, things had changed. Buck wasn't so much of a buckaroo anymore. The many books he was reading slowed, then stopped. The conversations slowed, and became repetitive. His memory was slipping. The biking stopped, the fishing stopped, and a great man was fading before our eyes. By the end, he lay there, only able to hold our hands and give us a squeeze while we talked with him. Alzheimer's / Dementia had stolen him from us. 

He passed on November 13, 2016. I was five months away from graduating law school. He didn't get to see my brother or my cousins graduate - Gussie, James, and Keller all missed out on him being there. 

I am hoping no one else has to repeat my story. I want to end this disease. I want to do what my grandpa would do: I want to BUCK this disease.

So donate some buckaroos in honor of Buck so that way we can BUCK Alzheimers & Dementia! ;)