He was the youngest of six living children. Terry was known as a humble and kind man never failing to stop in his path to pet an anxious dog or cat. He loved his 68 GMC blue step-side pickup. In 2008 he proudly regained his driving privileges and at the age of 45, received his GED. He served B&B General Contractors with his diversified skills for many years.
Many know Terry as the lone guy walking to Judge Irwin’s court and to see his P.O.
He is survived by his 87-year-old mother, Florence of Wisconsin and Arizona; sisters, Sue Thatcher and Rona Frye of Arizona and brothers, Pat of Arizona and Ray and Lou of Wisconsin, two sons, Keith (Angie) and Doug Hawver of Wisconsin, their mother, Linda of Darien, three grandchildren, Jake and Owen and Ariana and many nieces and nephews: Barbara, Rusty and Cal of Alaska, Krista of Arizona, Carrie of North Carolina, Julia and John of California, Jennifer of Wisconsin, Nikki and Brian of Wisconsin, Angie of Illinois, June of Wisconsin, aunts and uncles and most special friends, Gene Vogt and co-worker Jesus, Todd and Carol of Tucson and numerous childhood friends from Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, especially his old band buddies.
A memorial gathering for family and friends was held at Sue Thatcher’s Brown Canyon home on Nov. 22 at 10a.m. Biscuits and gravy, Terry’s favorite, was served.
He had a motorbike that was his only source of travel at one point, and he referred to it as his Hardly Davidson. That bike got him around just fine for a long while.
Sister Sue found Terry to be in a rut and seemingly having no direction in the late nineties, and so she took him under her wing and back to Arizona with her, saying ‘he is worth saving’. He saw her as the number one most important relationship he had, and Gene was number two. Sue and Gene invested much love and time into redirecting Terry’s life.
Terry could work wood or move dirt as well as turn a wrench with great care and attention to detail. His tools were his treasures. He willingly loaned them out with a watchful eye to their return to his tool cache. He was a ‘giterdone’ kind of guy. His famous words, ‘make it work’.
While doing a roofing job in Wisconsin, Terry fell off that roof backwards, breaking both feet. Forever after that, he was cautious about signing up for work of any kind that meant getting back up on a roof. His words after that fall were, “I’m trying to quit”.
Picture this guy with long curly hair playing drums in his Wednesday Night Band in Lake Geneva with a cigarette hanging off his lip and a huge grin across his face. Smiling was Terry, and drums were food for his soul. That era was one of his favorite times of his life.
Those band members are among the most dear friends in his life.
When it was Terry’s turn to cook dinner for the family, it was always goulash Terry-Style. He added many extra ingredients and cooked it his way, making this meal a delight for days after. He didn’t know how to cook small.
Terry’s sons, Keith and Doug, produced grandsons Owen and Jake and granddaughter Aubriana.
Terry’s mom, Florence, now 87, was at his side all through the last five months of his life, making sure he started his day with a different breakfast each day, his morning coffee, meds and cheerful conversation. She greeted him with a bubbly ‘good morning, Ter’ when he woke up each day.
Terry’s siblings Sue, Rona and Pat, and Gene, a valued friend, stood by him throughout this final chapter in his life, making sure he was safe, loved, nurtured and supplied with plenty of company.
Neighbors Vince and Misha stopped by most days to chat and see how he was. They were the neighborhood that we all held dear.
Michaela, another valued friend, came over often with meals to share with us and she always stayed to minister love to us and play cards when we were up for it.
Ted and Mark were always there when the need arose to gather with the family or help out with any problem that might have shown up.
Terry was very loved by all, and he was a man of few words, but when he did add a comment, he usually added his dry humor.
When we got overzealous in trying to give him a helping hand he would pridefully say, ‘I’ve got it’, not wanting to give up his independence. One time when Sue was trying to give him a bit too much help he said, “I’m not 10, you know”.
When it was time to use extra measures at night, Rona knew it was going to prove difficult to pull it off. The first night, she said that we were going to put these things on to keep him warm. His words, ‘you’re kidding me right?’ The second night, she figured she would have to have a better story, so she said that we were all wearing those things now and he said, ‘you’re shitting me’.
With this grand celebration of Terry’s life, he would have said, ‘there goes the neighborhood’.
