03/03/2026
Thank you all for your understanding and continued support.
Born on May 24, 1951, my Papa was a man who belonged to the outdoors and the open road. He didn’t just live life; he built it with his own two hands.
To many, he was the face of Beaver Lodge or the heart of The Inn at Soap Lake. He was the ultimate host, a man whose work ethic was unmatched, and who never knew the meaning of the word "quit." But to me, he was the man who made the world feel like a better place, a place I could master.
He taught me the things that matter. Because of him, I know how to handle a chainsaw, how to wait patiently for a fish to bite, and how to feel the gears catch in a manual transmission. He gave me the gift of the wild—countless miles on cross country trails, nights under the stars while camping, and those long truck rides on winding dirt roads where the best conversations happened without many words being said at all.
Watching him face pancreatic cancer was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but even in that, his strength was evident. He left us on March 2nd, but every time I'll look up at the stars, or find myself on a quiet dirt road, I’ll know he’s right there in the passenger seat.
Rest easy, Papa. The chores are done. I’ll take it from here.
