He married my grandmother in Dillon Montana in the early 1940’s and she was everything to him. The love that he had for her was amazing and something that most of us can only hope to experience during our lifetime.

Grandpa and Grandma had 3 sons and 1 daughter all of whom they centered their lives around. Grandpa spend a great deal of time teaching the kids how to hunt, fish and live off the land while grandma worked right along side of them.

There is not a day that goes by, or some special event or gathering that grandpa is not thought of or talked about and that is just the way it should be.

For many years, 35, he was a river guide on the Salmon River. Also known as the River of no Return and for good reason. As a little girl I enjoyed it when he and my dad would tell us stories of life on the river and some of the silly things they would do to pass the time.

One of my favorite stories is the one my dad tells about fishing on the river. My dad was very tiny when he was a child, yet was determined that he was going to haul in one of the large salmon that used to be common on the river. Grandpa was so afraid that dad would be pulled in by the fish, again, that he tied my dad to a nearby tree and let dad fish away. 

Along those same lines, my fondest memories are of all of us meeting in Stanley to camp, hunt and fish along with grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. Grandpa had only one rule and one he would not bend on, stay away from the river when an adult was not present and even then he would prefer we stay as far back as possible. My behind met a switch the one time, and that is all it took, when I wandered to close after one to many warnings from grandpa. I am sure; knowing him like I did that it hurt him, in his tender heart, more than it hurt my behind. He acted out of love and the fear of loosing one of his beloved grandchildren.

I thought that I really knew everything about my grandpa. I did not think that there was a story I had not heard over the years, but now I find that was not the case.

I called my mom today and asked her to send me all of the information, stories, etc…that she thought may help when it came time to sit down and write this. To my delight I learned more about the man that I adored and was not surprised to find that he was truly a hero, not only to his family, but to an entire group of men and his country that he loved so much.

Here is the newspaper article that mom sent. It talks about my grandfather as well as the wonderful man that would later become my step-grandfather and who would love and care for and about my grandmother with the same kindness and devotion that my grandpa had shown her.

This is a newspaper article on him and Ezra.

TWO MEMBERS OF FAMILY CITED FOR HEROIC ACTION
At Headquarters Fifth Army in Italy telling of the award of the Bronze Star Medal to Cpl. Stanton D. Young, left above. It was not suspected that two men from one Jefferson county household had been cited for heroic achievement in action. Cpl. Stanton Young is the son of Mr. and Mrs. George E. young of Lorenzo route one and the other soldier from their home to be honored is Pfc. Ezra B. Richan, a grandson who was reared by Mr. and Mrs. Young after his mother died. He entered service in June, 1943 from their home. Pfc. Richan won his citation while serving as a member of the 182nd Infantry Regiment at Bougainville, Solomon Islands in March 1944. Cpl. Young was cited for heroic achievement while a member of the 86th Infantry Regiment, Tenth Mountain Division in Italy. He led a squad of men carrying provisions and ammunition on their backs up steep mountain trails under fire, when all other means of transportation failed. One carrying partly was in progress when the Germans counterattacked, but the supplies were delivered to the advanced Infantry on the mountainside. On the bottom of a copy of the citation given him to send home, Cpl. Young wrote "This is what I got my Bronze Star with but I hope I can forget it." The text of the citation awarded Pfc. Ezra B. Richan follows. “During an attack on enemy positions on Hill 260, Private Richan displayed a high degree of courage and devotion to duty as first scout on a combat patrol in enemy territory. While the patrol was proceeding along a bluff, Private Richan observed eight Japanese and immediately took cover and opened fire with great accuracy while the patrol maneuvered into position. In the ensuing fire fight four of the enemy was killed. Due to intense enemy mortar fire the patrol was soon forced to withdraw from their position on the bluff. Private Richan voluntarily remained in position under this mortar fire and continued to engage the enemy causing them to take cover, while our patrol moved to a safe position." This devotion to duty on the part of Private Richan in the face of enemy fire reflects great courage on him and is in keeping with the highest standards and traditions of our Army.

This is the way that my grandpa lived his life. Always doing for others and giving of himself without a second thought. He loved to see people smile and was more than willing to give a helping hand when he saw someone in need.

I often find that I will ask myself, when working through a difficult situation, if they way I plan to do things would be the way that grandpa would do it. If the answer is yes then I know it is right.

I miss my grandpa very much and wish that I would have had a lot more time than I did with him. I know that ever single member of my family feels that way, but I also know, deep in my heart that he watches over all of us and I thank him for that.

I love and miss you grandpa!
Hugs and Kisses,
Marie

My Dad, Ernie Essary, was born in Taney County, SW Missouri, in 1926. He was the oldest of ten children. The family was poor but his mother was very resourceful and kept all the kids clean and fed. One of my Dad's childhood idols was Tom Mix, the movie cowboy. He remembered going to the picture show to watch him.

My Dad was out on his own, working, at a very young age. He married my Mom, Ruby, whom he met at a pie supper. The girls baked pies and the young men would bid on them, and then get to eat the pie in the company of the girl. My Mom was quite beautiful and had had several boyfriends. She was the youngest of seven children. They got married and not long after, my Dad joined the Army. This was in 1943 or 44. He was at Fort Leonard Wood and at Fort Knox, and ended up in England where he was one of the thousands of troops awaiting the Normandy Invasion. Yes, my Dad was one of the D-Day soldiers in June, 1944. He was on Utah beach. After the invasion he was in France and later helped to liberate the concentration camps in Germany. Interestingly, he did not like France or the French people at all, but he loved Germany. He admired how the Germans could have a tiny plot of land and grow so many crops on them. He also loved the vineyards along the Rhine River. After the war he spent time in Japan during the occupation. He shipped back to the US on the Queen Mary, and he and my Mom began their life together. Back in Missouri, it was apparent that there wasn't much of a way to earn a living, so they began a gradual move out west with my Dad's parents and siblings. They would camp and work in fields and orchards. My oldest sister, Karen, remembers well how our Mom would put her and her little sister Joann on a blanket and tell Karen to mind Jo while she and my Dad worked nearby. They lived in Burley, Idaho, and Emmett, Idaho for a time, and finally ended up in Washington. My Dad began working for farmers in the Sunnyside area, which is where my brother Hal and I were born. When I was five, we moved to Othello, where we lived for many years. My Dad was a farmer through and through. He would work on the farm all day, and then come home and tend his garden until dark. He loved growing things, trying new crops, and the whole aesthetic of gardening. He even planted a small vineyard (no doubt remembering those on the Rhine). My Dad had the most droll sense of humor...he was just about the funniest person I ever knew. He didn't talk a lot but when he said something, it was worth hearing. He and my Mom moved to Plymouth, Washington after I was grown up, and he worked there for a few years on a big farm. Then my Mom died in 1986, after 42 years of marriage to my Dad. He missed her terribly, of course, but he did remarry. He and Margaret spent about 15 happy years together. He semi-retired and then totally retired, and they made many road trips to Arizona and Missouri. He always had loved road trips. Of course he continued to garden! He was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis and gradually worsened over a few years, and died in 2002. He was 75. I can't begin to say how much I still miss him. He was the kind of Dad you could tell your problems to, and he wouldn't berate you or tell you what to do, he would just give advice and say to do whatever you thought was best. I could talk to him about just about anything. I am very lucky to have had such a wonderful Dad.

Cheryl

Daniel L. Parkinson, 23, died December 5, 2006 at Northeastern Nevada Regional Hospital after a difficult battle following his diagnosis of ALL T-cell Leukemia.

He was born Feb 16, 1983 in Ely, Nev., to Richard and Tamra Ingle Creaghe. Daniel was a beloved brother of Christopher L. Parkinson and Amy L. Parkinson, as well as a loving son to Tamra Ingle and Richard Creaghe: devoted grandson to Donna and Larry Ingle of Elko Nev., Loretta Tingle of McGill, Nev., and Doris and James Parkinson Sr. of Boise Idaho, as well as a loving brother-in-law to Maida Z. Parkinson and doting uncle to Maida E. Parkinson of Ridgecrest, Cal.

He is also greatly missed by numerous other family relations and friends. Daniel greatly touched the hearts of everyone who knew him and will be dearly missed.

Brad Marquez
D.O.P.S
Dillon's Only Paranormal Society

A Tribute to Jason from Laura Spindler

There was this kid back in Santee that Matt used to hang out with named Jason. He was kinda hard to like at first because he came off as really arrogant, over confident, self involved....take your pick. However if you gave the kid a second look, you found that he was also a bright kid with a good heart. If he hung around long enough you would also learn that all of that initial bravado of his was mostly just him making fun of himself.

Of course he had all of the makings of a total substance abuser....as did all of those kids in that time and space. I don’t know how many DUI’s the kid had racked up by the time he was 17. To some people this makes him a total waste I guess. To some people Matt and all of the kids he hung out with were a total waste...it wasn’t a big surprise when you met most of their parents.

They were either doing meth or in the process of trying to stop doing meth, or had just become born again Christians, Wiccans, or whatever label they acquired as they tap danced thru their 12 step program. Which was why it seemed like I was running a home for wayward messed up kids. I’m digressing....

Jason taught Savannah how to ride a bike....she just couldn’t get up the nerve to have someone run behind her and pedal off on her own, so he spent an entire afternoon running alongside her until she got the confidence to do it solo. The way that kid smoked, I’m surprised he didn’t drop dead from all that running.

When all of Matt’s supposed friends turned on him, Jason was still there even at the risk of taking a beating from the others. He had a habit of thinking for himself instead of going along with the pack; this didn’t make him very popular with most of the others.

About a month ago I heard that while walking down the PB Pier with some of his buddies, there was some kind of altercation, the end result was that Jason was beat badly enough to put him into a coma. He didn’t come out of it....2 weeks ago he died.

Now most of the people I know will think...."no big loss, he was just a crime waiting to be committed anyway" and in a sense I guess they’d be right.

My problem is I knew him, he came to my house for dinner, he taught my daughter to ride a bike, and he helped us move when we decided to leave Cali. I don’t think much was made of his death, it was just your garden variety Southern California gang fight....the guy that killed Jason is dead because one of Jason’s friends carved him up with his handy dandy Buck knife. Now he’s doing time for murder....so all is right with the world again.....right?

I guess I’m digressing again....I guess what I really wanted to articulate here is that Jason was 19 years old when he died and at least by me, he’ll be missed.

Mildred McGrath - Lois to her friends
Mildred Louis "Lois" McGrath, 78, Nampa, died Sunday, July 22, 2007, at home of natural causes. No public services are planned. A wake will be held at a future date. Cremation arrangements are by Zeyer Funeral Chapel, Nampa. 467-7300. Published in the Idaho Press Tribune on 7/25/2007.

Rory Johnson
Rory M. Johnson born Oct. 28, 1961, took flight from this world on March 16, 2007. He was born in Seattle, Wash. He spent his early years in California then moved to Ketchikan, Alaska, where he attended Ketchikan High. At the age of 17 he joined the Navy and spent the following 20 years flying around the world as a proud Navy officer.
Rory is survived by his parents, Earnest and Beth Johnson of Peoria, Ariz., Grandfather George Slater of Mesa, Ariz., Brother Joseph Johnson, his wife, Sara and nephew Jack of Albuquerque, NM, Fiancé Michelle Hummel, of Nampa, and his children Ryan and Regan Johnson of Bellingham Wash., Amy, Tania, Megan and Garrett Hummel of Nampa.
Rory loved life. During his short time here in Nampa, he enjoyed coaching the Brown Bus Islanders co-ed softball team, his job bar tending at Pete's Tavern and all of the people there. He lived for baseball, Seattle Mariners being his favorite team. He faithfully cheered on the Seattle Seahawks. All that knew and loved Rory will miss him greatly. Our lives will have a space that is empty without him by our sides. We will forever remember his sense of humor, his Hawaiian shirts and sandals and the love he gave selflessly. A memorial service will be held in his honor at Pete's Tavern.

I have something I would like to add to the story of Rory. For sometime we investigated Pete's Tavern in Nampa where Rory was the bartender. He was always welcoming and greeted us with a smile. The funny thing about it was that Rory was a firm skeptic in the paranormal and he was not afraid to voice his opinion. One night Rory and I had one of the best debates that I have has with someone to date. He was incredibly intelligent and it was a pleassure. We both walked away from that conversation with a new respect for each other. I can't help but wonder now... is he still skeptical or would he be one of the many willing to speak into an audio recorder to let me know that I am on the right track?
Marie

August Chris Seyersdohl
Born November 28, 1927 Died September 29, 2009
Grandpa was born in Steamboat Springs Co.

He served in the US Army during World War II. In 1951 he married his wife, my grandma. Grandpa was a member of the LDS church, Veterans of Foreign Wars, American Legion and the Odd Fellows. He also served for a time as a Scout Master.

Grandpa was an avid fisherman. He loved the outdoors and could often be found along the banks of the Green River fishing for cat fish, one of his favorites. He also loved to get out in the woods. There was nothing that could compare to a long, extended camping trip as far as Grandpa was concerned.

One of my favorite memories of Gramdpa was a trip we took to Yellowstone National Park. We had the best time! Thank you for that Grandpa!

Love and Miss ya!
Marie

Eileen Richards
This is my Grandma. I think if I had to compare myself to anyone else in my family I would have to say that I most resemble this lady. She was strong, stubborn and warm hearted all at the same time. Grandma and I were able to spend a good deal of time together.

Grandma loved her embroidery and was very gifted at the craft. She also loved trips to K Mart back when they still had cafeterias. She enjoyed taking us out for lunch there so much in fact that she bought stock in the company.

She is greatly missed by all!

Our Tributes to Loved Ones