My father had a knack for turning every moment into a lesson. No matter who was around, he firmly believed in the power of teachable moments and was constantly weaving his wisdom into everyday life. His passing at the end of October left an undeniable void, but since then, it has also brought countless reminders of his lasting legacy. My dad was truly larger than life, and through these moments I have been reminded that our loved ones never truly leave us.

When I was little, my dad took me to the movie, "The Sandlot." My mom had a PEO meeting at the house, so taking me to dinner, probably at Taco Shop, and then to the movies was an easy way to keep me entertained. After the movie he wanted to ensure I remembered the line: "Heroes get remembered, but legends never die."
He wanted to be sure I understood that you didn’t have to be Babe Ruth to leave a lasting impact on people's lives. Being a legend meant living with uncompromising integrity, serving others, and never giving up. If you did that, everything else would take care of itself. Over the years, his words stuck with me, though they were often just a fleeting memory of that evening until the Saturday after Thanksgiving 2024.
My sister, her daughter, and I went to my dad’s hometown of WaKeeney, KS, for their annual Christmas tree lighting. As children, we went to the tree lighting every year and this year, it felt like the right way to honor his memory. While leaving a bakery downtown, someone asked our names. We introduced ourselves, they offered condolences, and then a man said, “You should know, your father was a legend.” At that moment, I was transported back to being 13 years old, sitting in the Fox Theater, hearing my dad tell me those words: "Remember legends never die."
How I held it together is beyond me, but the impact of that moment wasn’t lost. It was yet another reminder of the extraordinary life my father led. As so many people have shared stories, this sentiment has been expressed more than once. Every time I hear it, I think back to that night and hear him talking to me, reminding me that how you impact people is your true legacy.

My father wasn’t just a rock for our family—he was a cornerstone for many people in the community. He believed in selflessly helping others and was always ready to help those in need because he knew firsthand that life can change in an instant and that sometimes we all need help. He was 100% convinced that everyone had something to give, but some people just needed a little push or a bit more encouragement to be what he knew they could be.
The number of people who have shared how my dad changed their lives is both humbling and heartwarming. He made people feel valued by constantly giving them his time, no matter their background. He taught us that what matters is how you make others feel and the impact you leave behind; that part of your duty on this earth is to leave it better than you found it.
He also believed in constant growth and embracing discomfort. To him, life was about evolving and learning. He made sure we knew it is normal to feel nervous when you are uncomfortable, but to push through because he also knew firsthand that regret is a far worse feeling than what you can allow fear to do to your mind.
When I was little, I can remember talking to him about not wanting to get laughed at, to which he quickly responded, “If someone laughs at you, that’s their problem, not yours. You have to do you in this life, no one else, your only competition is yourself."
Then, almost in the same breath, he used the fear I was feeling in that moment as another of his teachable moments. He wanted to be sure that the worry/fear I felt was a feeling that I was never the cause of for someone else. He said to be the encourager and the friendly face in the crowd, don't be the jerk, being the jerk is easy, and I was better than that! For many of you who know my Dad, I am sure you can almost hear these words!!
In conversations with my dad, he often said that the true measure of a person's life’s impact would be seen after they pass, and he wasn’t wrong. The outpouring of love and gratitude since his passing has been overwhelming. Stories from people he helped—whether mentoring youth, supporting those in need, or simply being a steady presence—have shown us the depth of his influence.
Many have said they wouldn’t be where they are today without him. Others have shared that their children will grow up knowing his name and the values he stood for. His legacy isn’t just one of strength or service; it’s a legacy of profound love and dedication to making the people in this world better.
He loved our family with a ferocity that was evident in everything he did and to everyone. His love wasn’t about grand gestures; it was in the little things—the way he encouraged us, by being the best girl dad we could ask for and supporting us, and always believing in us no matter what we wanted to do. As I said in my Facebook post, he was a girl dad before it was a thing, and he raised us to believe that we could do anything, that we belonged in any room, and at any table we wanted to be at. At the time, it was what I knew. Looking back, I realize just how special having that thought process ingrained in us was.
This year, navigating the holidays without him has been bittersweet. As we celebrated Thanksgiving and prepared for Christmas, I reflected on the simplicity of our family’s traditions. At my parents' home, I opened a drawer filled with pristine holiday towels. I couldn’t help but think, "Why didn’t we use these more often?" The answer was simple: Our family didn’t need the “good towels or to put on the airs.” That’s not who we are, and then, I remembered a text the morning of Dad's celebration of life.
My best friend from childhood asked about the "dress" for the Celebration of Life. When I said, "whatever," just come in your PJs, jeans, a ball gown, or whatever makes you comfortable. She quickly responded that it was one of the things she loved most about our family. We don't need people to be anything other than themselves, and this was even more evident at my Dad's celebration of life.
As the people funneled into the celebration of life we had a visual reminder of how many lives Dad lived. They came from all walks of life and were there to celebrate him. From good ole boys to cowboys, businessmen, roughnecks, community leaders, dog trainers, and more, he walked among them all effortlessly content in who he was and only in competition with himself.
As hard as this has been, it’s also been filled with reminders of my dad’s lessons: to live with integrity, encourage others, show up in life, be thankful for your problems because most of the time someone has it worse, and cherish the people around us. The words, "Legends never die," ring truer, now more than ever, but his legacy lives on, not just in our family, but in the lives he touched and the countless stories told.
I know the best way I can honor him is by continuing to live the way he taught me—living my life, being of service to others, and embracing every new chapter with courage and gratitude.
To those who knew him, and even those who didn’t, his life serves as a reminder: we all have the power to leave a lasting impact, to be a “legend” in our own right, and in the end, it’s not about fame or accolades; it’s about the love, kindness, and the lessons we leave behind.
Thank you, Dad, for everything. You’ll always be our legend.


