John Worthington Deer
June 20, 1915-July 19, 2004

John’s Story - Pattie & Mike

Pattie’s story..

We are the Deer kids….I am Daddy’s “Little Girl” and Mike is his “Pride and Joy”. What an honor seeing all of you here. Daddy would have been so proud.

A few days ago I received an e-mail from a dear friend who said, “Over the next few days friends and family will gather to tell stories about your Dad. There is so much comfort in that. Hopefully, by soaking them into your heart the hole left by his death may be partially filled.”

Then she went on to say that she thought my Dad was “very cool”. She remembered staying over night with me when my folks and their friends were in the living room learning to do the twist. She said, “You might have been embarrassed but I was so impressed that those “old” people were learning to do one of our dances.”

Mike & I want this to be a celebration of Daddy’s life. We want to share some stories with you and we would like for you to share yours with us.

Daddy was born in Neodesha on June 20, 1915 to Rosella Estella & John Wesley Deer. He married Ruby Faye Kelly in November 1939. She died September 12, 1952. In 1953 he married Ruth Bleakney Kinyon. She died on this day, July 22, 1998. Daddy had two wives. One Thanksgiving after his stroke he looked across the table at me and said, “Who was your mother?”
I said, “Ruby, your 1st wife.” He looked at me a while and said, “I thought we were done after Mike.”

I am not going to list all of the organizations & clubs. At one time or another he belonged to most of them. He loved people, and he loved Neodesha. He was so proud of who he was, and where he was from. One time, in a San Diego restaurant, the waitress came to our table and said, “Good morning, my name is Mary and I will be your waitress today.” Immediately Daddy stood up and said, “My name is John Deer and we’re from Neodesha, KS.”

He loved to dress up as a leprechaun on St. Patrick’s Day and play Irish tunes on his harmonica. He especially loved to dress up as Santa Claus. One Christmas he walked in to the First Neodesha Bank, raised his hand and rang his bell and said, “Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas” and his pants fell down. Until he had his stroke he dressed as a clown with a tin cup and played his harmonica at each Arts & Crafts Festivals. Each year he made around $100 for the Arts Center.

He loved parties. It got kind of embarrassing that when someone made out a party list, my folk’s names went on the list way before mine. But Daddy loved a good time. He carried his harmonica in the glove box of his car and dance wax in the trunk. He loved parties so much that in 1980 he started giving himself a birthday party every five years.

He loved a good joke. He had two favorite jokes. Remember “..the dead horse story” and “..did I say that my Grandfather wanted to get married?” He told those jokes so many times, and Mom used to just roll her eyes.

But one of the greatest things about our dad is that we always knew…..he loved us. He loved his grand children, his great grand children, and he truly loved Neodesha.

Mike’s story..

Our Dad was an optimist and a realist. He was a farmer. Life started anew every spring, with the waving wheat and the planting of fall crops, always expecting a bumper crop. Hot July weather, along with dry south winds, always tampered this optimism with the realities of dry land farming. Rain in mid to late July created a new wave of optimism. However, the harvest always revealed the score. Win, lose, or draw, he never complained. He prepared the best he could, and knew the final results were in Gods hands. He accepted the results with dignity and reserved pride. After all, there was next year. It could be better or possibly worse.

He passed this philosophy on to those around by example and communication. When I was playing football at KU, we were ranked #1 in the nation before the 1961 season started. We promptly lost 3 games in a row. We were pretty discouraged, but Dad wrote a letter telling me and the rest of the team we shouldn’t be discouraged. He wrote that farmers didn’t give up with hard times, insects, flood, or drought. If you keep working you can receive the results you expect. I showed the letter to Coach Mitchell and he posted it for the team to read. It seemed to work. We ended the season
7-4 with a solid win over Rice University in the Blue Bonnet Bowl.

Dad was also a great example of stewardship. He was a steward of the land. If he bought a farm, he improved it. The farms he and mom have entrusted to Pattie & I to care for during our lifetimes for his grand children are excellent illustrations of his stewardship. He has set high standards. We will try to meet those standards. It is only ours to use. We will try, as he did, to pass it on in better condition than it was entrusted to us.

Finally, I believe our Dad has been released from the restraints of earth. I believe his spirit is soaring with the prairie hawk and his breath has become one with the wind.