is now 14 YEARS...
Birthday Daddy, you would of been 80 yrs old!
CELEBRATE THE LIFE OF
Daniel Phillip Flack - submitted a guilty plea, Thursday May 16, 2002
"Heaven" is hopefully filled with vintage wooden boats!
I know, he
will find my page,
A must read!!!
The Oregonian Newpaper Wednesday, November 21, 2001
Metro/NW Section C
Click here to read:
Good Samaritan's unquestioning help rewarded with harrowing ordeal
Today we gather to honor the memory of Ken Dillard Patterson Jr. He was born in 1936 in Eugene, Oregon. His occupations, achievements, friends, projects and interests were numerous. Also numerous were the people whose lives were touched by knowing him.
Ken had a unique sense of humor and a perspective all his own. You could always depend on him for a joke or a kind word when you needed one. He was a hard worker and he liked to play just as much. He was so good at fusing the two, that some of the time we didnt know which he was doing.
Ken looked at life as a journey. He used every opportunely and took every chance that came his way. He was a dreamer and a believer.
In this journey, Ken had many modes of transportation. There are those of us in his life that always think of him when we see a sailboat, tug, tanker, fishing boat or runabout. There are some people that might remember traveling with him by rail. Some might recall seeing the world with him through the windows of a vintage Porsche or a beat up truck. Lately he had been quite fond of the wind in his face as he pedaled a bicycle. There are even those who not too long ago watched with a pit in their stomachs and a smile on their faces as he snow ski again after a 30 year break.
Ken wove us all into the tapestry of his life. If you ask someone for their favorite Ken story, it will be different than any one else's. If you ask someone how he impacted their life, no two answers will be the same.
He was our friend and every one of us is richer for knowing him and poorer for our loss. We all loved him and know that he will be with us in our memories and our hearts forever.
I want to thank all of you
But due to the circumstances and what my father was all about, he was never ordinary, this is actually the way I know my father would like us to memorialize him.
Good people, good food, and lots of napkins to doodle on.
I'd like to just say a few
of my personal thoughts about my Dad; I'm a Patterson,
The things I remember most about my Dad... are his ways of saying just the right thing at the wrong .... or sometimes right times.
Often he'd have his own little
Ken-isms..... that just seem to appear out of thin air.
We'll get there when we get there..... WHEN I WAS LATE FOR SCHOOL and HE WAS DRIVING ME... he would get in the car..... then get out.. and tinker with who knows what in the garage before we could actually go.
Be good, or I'll tell your parents! ..... Often when in public places.... he'd threaten to pretend we weren't his kids... Not that we were being difficult each time, but if we were..... He would say this.. and make us laugh... and we'd forget maybe the little tantrum we were having. Often he'd threaten to sell us to the gypsies too... if we didn't behave. I BELIEVE HIM! He probably knew some gypsies.
Don't wear anything... you'll be the most popular girl there! When I would agonize over what to wear or buy for an event, a dance or special gathering.... I remember getting really beat red in the face the few times he said this to me in high school..... One, cuz well, he's so darn laid back and doesn't stress about clothing... Two, cuz... well, I always believed everything my Dad said... first time around. :-)
They make money.... lots and lots... of money. Ok.. We'd be on the I-5 freeway... going past that SMELLY MILL/PLANT off to the west side. I wondered what they actually made there... and why it smelled so bad.... Dad told me... they make money.... lots of money there... and unfortunately, I thought my entire teenage years.. they PRINTED MONEY THERE! Driving with my friends... I said.. they make money there.... my friends said... WHAT? I said my Dad told me they make money there.. ya know print it. My friends laughed... and well, at that instance it hit me WHAT HE MEANT!
It will be fun.... ok...
he'd would say this over... well, lets buy a bag of potato chips...
God doesn't make crap! This is a motto he spoke to me almost every time I spoke with him the last few months. He believed that everyone is good, in his or her own ways. He never saw a person with a handicap as handicapped. He knew everyone had a purpose on the planet no matter if they were given all the TOOLS or not to do a job. There is always a way.... and if you can't do it yourself... there is a way... to get it done... I thought of Dad as a sort of TOM SAWYER. He would trade this for that, you rub my back this time, and I'll get yours later.
Short story... 1997? after the Portland area flood. Salvation Army, by his home was flooded. He went in noticed the water damage, and somehow struck a deal with the manager... He gave $80.00 for all the bicycles in there. They were in need of de-rusting and probably many other repairs. Dad took them all, I don't know how many there were but there were a few. He found 3-4 young boys from the neighborhood. He got them to help him oil chains and gets the bikes back into better shape. For his work he gave each boy a bike.
Well, later that day after the boys left with their earnings, an upset Mother..... came to Dad's place... dragging this kid by an ear.. with a bike. She said... to Dad... DID YOU GIVE MY SONS A BICYCLES?, Dad said.... No, they earned it, do you have a bicycle? He said to the woman... she said NO, he said "what color would you like?".
Dad loved to know everything about people.... what they did, what their parents did and what their parents did. We'd drive down the road in the car; I might wave at a friend walking down the street. Dad would say.. WHO is that? I'd say.... So and so... and he'd say... What does her Dad do? I said I don't know! He asks ok, what does her Mom do?
My Dad taught me about water sports, snow skiing, boating of all types, fishing.... well, I taught him some about trout fishing, you don't fix something till it breaks if you don't have to, but restore before it is lost, he taught me that you can work your fingers to the bone to get and achieve everything you think you need, but really to be happy you need nothing but a place over your head, food in your belly, clothes, you don't really need a computer but a napkin and a pen can be a place to sketch out a business idea, woodworking project, your telephone address book, and doodles for me to laugh at.
I love my dad, I wish him peace, happiness, and I want him to know that through Matt, Alexis and Myself he will always live on in our hearts and souls.
I'm will also be continuing
father's ONLINE business:
WE SOLD OUT IN AUGUST!! Daddie I finished your business!
You will be missed and always in my heart!
Ken was murdered on his
own property, Novemeber 2001.
Violent Crimes MUST BE STOPPED!!!!
Thank you for your work
Obituary, The Register Guard Newspaper December 18, 2001
Copyright© November 12, 2001-20013 Ken Patterson's Daughter. All rights reserved.