Cover photo for Clyle Reece's Obituary

Clyle Reece

Clyle Reece

Our amazing Dad, Clyle “Greasy” Reece, wore out his earthly body better than anyone could ever imagine. He was a hard worker, never afraid of getting his hands dirty or doing a job others would shy away from. The washing machine would have suffered greatly had mother not removed the random stuff from his pockets: screws, drill bits, candy wrappers, and the like. Our Dad was a master tinkerer, someone who could fix anything. His brain just worked that way. Smarter than smart, a real problem solver. He could walk into any space, pull out a napkin (from his pocket), and decide how it could/should be remodeled. A jack of all trades, Clyle could go from farming, to carpentry, to fixing cars, to calling a square dance just like that! There was not a person who met him that didn’t like him.

A master of positivity, he always had a sparkle in his eye and an infectious smile. And the jokes! Our Dad could have been a stand-up comedian. Conversations were often interrupted by, “did you hear the one…”. It was so much fun laughing with him. And what an incredible storyteller. There was joy in the stories told about working the farm in Marsing, where, from an early age, he learned the value of hard work and the rewards that follow thereafter. He spoke fondly of the teams of horses used to thresh the wheat, the cows who provided milk and meat for his family, and countless pets who worked by his side and provided companionship. His dream was to be a veterinarian, and what a fine one he would have been. He was proud of where he’d come from, the work he’d done, and the knowledge he gained along the way.

Despite his many physical pains, our Dad never let those injuries slow him down. Granted, he never ran a marathon after being shot in the hip as a child, but he went on to do some incredible things. He raced cars, flew airplanes, camped, fished, built, and remodeled countless buildings, and grew fabulous gardens with Mom. His lust for life far outweighed any physical issues. He never focused on them. Instead, he kept on going, kept moving, kept inspiring others to be their best and do their best. Mediocracy wasn’t his thing. Our Dad was a scholar of life. Oh, how he lived!

He loved his family with every grain of his being. He was the biggest cheerleader to each of us; encouraged us to work hard, to follow our dreams, to go after those things we wanted. If ever one of his kids, grandkids or even perfect strangers were in need, he was there to step in and do whatever it took to remedy the problem. A true philanthropist, he gave of himself time and time again. That’s who was he was through and through. Genuine, sincere, trustworthy, honest, and incredibly loyal. He was a man of men.

When his ability to “do” things became harder, he would sit on a chair and instruct. A great teacher was he. Always willing to share his knowledge and the story of how he’d come to learn how to do it. There were those days when he felt bad because he couldn’t get up to do what needed to be done. Then a phone call would come in from one of us kids or relative or friend, asking Dad how to fix this or that, how to prune properly, or grease bearings, or adjust a timing belt. And he knew, he always knew.

Our Dad loved his wife, Myrna, more than anything in the world. The two of them were joined at the hip. They loved going on drives around the Treasure Valley and to Idaho City where they’d married in 1967. Together they have driven across these great United States he loved so much. They delivered vehicles, took in the sights and beautiful landscapes, visited a multitude of friends and family along the way. One thing for sure, they had fun wherever their travels took them. He was a great driver and Mom kept wonderful journals of all their adventures together. They loved loading the motor home and “heading to the hills”. The campgrounds of Featherville were their favorites. Forty years and four generations have enjoyed trips to the mountains with our folks. Dad spent time baiting hooks and teaching kids how to fish. It was one of his greatest joys. The campground was never void of laughter, sticks he’d whittled, or drawings of our surroundings. He loved being in nature and sharing that with those around him.

He’s loved immensely by his family…his wife, children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and siblings. He has touched the lives of so many people through his kindness and generosity over the years. To have met him and be around him is a gift. We are all surely better people for having known him and been a recipient of his love. This is a poem my Dad sent to me, one of our many conversations via Facebook…

When Tomorrow Starts Without Me

When tomorrow starts without me, please try to understand, that an angel came and called my name, and took me by the hand. The angel said my place was ready, in Heaven far above, and I’d have to leave behind all those I dearly love. But when I walked through Heaven’s Gates, I felt so much at home, for God looked down, smiled at me, and told me, “Welcome Home”. So, when tomorrow starts without me, don’t think we’re far apart, for every time you think of me, I’m right here in your heart. Author Unknown

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