Meridon 'Zeph' Garner

Meridon Vestal "Zeph" Garner was born in Belton, Texas on September 20, 1928 to Claude Roger Garner and Willie Jeannette Garner. He had one older brother, Claude Jr. His father worked for the railroad and moved his family to Alpine in far West Texas, where Zeph graduated from Alpine High School in 1946. He joined the Marines after graduation. After his discharge, he joined the Reserves but was recalled in 1950 when the Korean War began. He met his future wife, Audrey Jane Young, while he was in school at Sul Ross State College in Alpine and they married in 1955. After their wedding, Zeph worked as a high school teacher and assistant coach in Van Horn, Texas while working on his degrees. He studied at Sul Ross State College, Texas Tech, Michigan State, and North Texas State, receiving a doctorate in mathematics. He published two mathematics textbooks and in a diary entry wrote after one semester ended "I hope I have taught them something they can use in their lives." He accepting a teaching position at North Texas in Denton in 1963, telling Audrey not to put down roots as it was just a temporary job. They stayed until they were parted by her death in 2008 after 53 years of marriage. On his birthday a few months before she died, she bought him a birthday card. There is no evidence she had ever gotten him a birthday card prior to this birthday. Audrey was not a card giver. In it, she told him her life with him had been perfect. Their three children are David Lee Garner, Nikie Lynn Garner Cotter, and James Patrick Garner. They have three grandchildren – Kenneth William Cotter, Morgan Elizabeth Garner, and Analee Meridon Garner. Zeph's enjoyment of "the farm" he purchased near Sanger in 1972 was obvious to all who knew him. His 1940s Ford tractor was a prized possession and he wouldn't let anyone but his sons, who he taught personally, drive it. It remains on the farm today, still available for mowing the pastures. In 1988 he and Audrey left for Malaysia where he spent two years preparing Malaysian students for American university study. It was a wonderful two years for them, alone together for the first time in many years, living in another culture. They swam almost every day. They saw amazing sights together in both Malaysia and Thailand, and rented a big house with a balcony on the second floor. And they learned to eat and enjoy all kinds of food – for folks from Texas, the food was an awesome and sometimes weird experience. They relished every minute of their time together in a foreign land. When they returned Zeph wanted to build a room in his milk barn for an office. His daughter, who had been living in their house while they were away, had completely filled up the barn with all kinds of trash and unwanted bits and pieces. He never said a word to her and in his diary he wrote "finally got to the back wall today where I want to add the office. It's amazing how messy this place got without anyone using it for two years." He would not criticize his children, even privately. After Audrey's sudden death in 2008 he went to live with his daughter Nikie and her husband Rick in Indiana. Never complaining about anything (except the cold weather), he amazed his children by working hard to stay healthy, looking to the future, and enjoying continued his relationships with his old friends. He was in Indiana for almost four years. His son-in-law Rick became his best buddy. They went to the gym, the barber, the doctor, and most especially a trip to the local cafe for lunch after their appointments were met. "His" waitress cried with the family when she learned of his death. One of his last requests was that Rick get the Christmas present he wanted. He didn't say much, but he was always thinking about and concerned for his family and friends. As loyal to the Dallas Cowboys as he was to his family, he watched every minute of every game from the first game they played until the last game two days before his death. His children will especially miss the certain knowledge that he would always steadfastly support them, no matter how many times they fumbled the ball. As a founding member of Denton Elk's Lodge #2446, Zeph developed many deep and lasting friendships. His last trip to Texas was in 2010 and he enjoyed every minute of the Charter Members dinner at the Elks Lodge and sharing old stories with his next door neighbor Jack Krueger. He also remained friends throughout life with many high school friends, and spoke to most of them in the few months before his death. Zeph passed away on December 7, 2011, in Indianapolis, Indiana. We rejoice in the fact that he is with Jesus and his beloved Audrey. Our loving father, grandfather, uncle and friend will return to Texas to his home and his wife. The remembrance will be at the Denton Elk's Lodge on Saturday, January 21. The Elk's service will start at 3, followed by the memorial services. The greatest measure of a man is how he is remembered by his family and friends. The following stories are shared by his children. His oldest son, David: I just want to put down a few thoughts about my dad today as he fights a losing battle for his life tonight. He and my mom have been the foundation of my life and as he can not hear me, I just wanted to write a bit about our love for each other and our families. I met him 55.5 years ago on the day I was born. I don't remember much, but I do know that I have won the equivalent of the lottery several times over on that day. As I have found over the years, good, loving parents aren't always a given. I was very fortunate to have had such a good base for my life. By the time I met him he had already lived quite a life. He was born in Belton to Granny Willie and Grandaddy Claude. He had an older brother Claude Jr. as well. It was no secret that he was not a complete angel growing up – and beyond. He craved excitement and was not always on the straight and narrow if you know what I mean. Claude Jr. gave him the nickname of "Zephyr" as he tended to be a "little breezy". They lived in Alpine and he had always bragged to me that I was born in the largest town, in the largest county, in the largest state in the U.S. (this was before Alaska came into the union). He told me of cutting wood with his brother using a crosscut saw and the hard work his mom and dad endured to make ends meet during very difficult times. When he was old enough he joined the Marine Corps and served two years after WWII then went into the reserves. In 1950 he was called up at the beginning of the Korean war. He recently told me that he arrived at Camp Pendleton on Sunday, one day after Chesty Puller had left port with the 1st Marine Division. He was very fortunate not to have had to go through the ordeal this unit went through – most notably the battle of Chosun Reservoir. Instead he was in charge of training new recruits for the duration. He spoke infrequently of this time, and when he did it was not of good memories. He did not like guns, and he did recollect a time when he stumbled on a group of recon in training and spoiled their stealth. He said they were not happy with him as they were punished and spent another day trying to hone their stalking skills. He met and married my mom, Audrey, in 1955 and they purchased a new Chevy they named "Betsy". I came in April of 1956 and Nikie came shortly there after. He spent the next several years working and finishing his education. He coached football with his good friend Woody Woodruff at Van Horn. He also refereed many local basketball games. We lived in a couple of houses in Alpine, and stayed with my Mom's parents some as well. We spent a memorable year in Grapevine near my Aunt Charlene (Nosy to the Garner family) as he completed his Doctorates degree. This was a two room house and I do not remember much except being babysat by a neighbor who made coke floats and we took naps. Nikie did not take well to either. I remember my 5th birthday there. The back yard was full of thorns and we went everywhere we could with no shoes. (Sister Nikie says what she remembers is her brother David taking a tinkle on the babysitter's car hubcap). In 1963 we moved to Denton as my dad was offered a job at NTSU as an Associate Professor. We moved to Creek Street and started a wonderful period of my life for sure. My two best friends, Paul Bean and Dean Bryant, lived a few houses away and the vacant lot next door had a large pile of dirt on it we all called "The Hill". My dad worked very hard for the first of those years as he went for his tenure at the University. I went to school at the "Lab School". I guess we were experimented on from a teaching standpoint, but seemed to get a very good education there. I was never a great student, but my mom and dad were always there to help when needed. My dad could never be satisfied with just working a job, he always needed an additional "Project". Even when we lived in Alpine I remember seeing his boat hanging in Granny Bonnie's garage rafters. I recall him building a "Chuck Wagon" for our many camping trips to the Big Bend National Park as well. While living on Creek Street he built an 8ft. x 20ft. barge using some new material my Uncle Bub had at his work called fiberglass. He built the frame so the center support between the two garage doors was in the middle of the boat. He had a great laugh every time someone stopped and asked if he knew this. I was probably 10 and spent many hours handing him tools and if I was lucky I would get to screw or hammer something. Those were truly wonderful times. He then purchased a 1950ish pickup to pull this to the lake with. We spent many wonderful times on the boat with Mother fretting that we would drown as we dove, swam, dunked, fished, and laughed together for many summers. When this was complete he then decided the next "Project" would be a pop up camper. He purchased a pickup bed, removed the bed portion, welded on a tongue for pulling and spent another year building it. It was truly a home made marvel. Mother sewed the canopy from another new material from Uncle Bub called Nylon. He was a great friend of my Dad's and they collaborated on many projects. They also took me to my first professional football game. Len Dawson had just won the Superbowl for Kansas City and we went to watch them play the Cowboys in a preseason game. We parked in the "secret parking lot". and walked to the Cotton Bowl. It is a day I will never forget, one of my favorite memories. I will always be a truly loyal Cowboy fan, no matter how bad the season,or who the owner or coach is. I reserve the right to complain bitterly as my Dad always did, however, I will never root against them. During this time as well, my Dad became involved with the Elks Lodge #2446. This became his place of refuge for many years to come and also many memories for all us kids. From the initial picnic to Father/Son pool tournaments, to sausage stuffing, to camping and fishing on Lake Texoma. My first paying job was to clean the bathrooms once a week when I was 12. I swear, I still do not like cleaning bathrooms; there is not much worse that cleaning up bathrooms after a bunch of drunk Elks have been using them for a week. We returned every year to camp in Big Bend National Park for 3 days during "Easter Break" while we lived on Creek Street. We drove all night and met his good friend Robo and his wife Reba in Alpine before we headed south to the Rio Grande. This was well before the park was developed and we would drive to Castalone and then down a two rut road until two peaks lined up to indicate the correct creek bed to turn down. We camped where there was only us and the rattlesnake and stars as far as you could see at night. I recently recalled with my Dad the trip he got the old Ford Station Wagon stuck in a creek bed. It was about 105 degrees, which is not too hot for that area, and he was working feverishly to jack up the car and place rocks under the tires to drive out. I was about 7 or 8 and Nikie was a year younger. Nikie was horribly traumatized by the prospect of not being able to get out and cried "We're All Gonna Die" at the top of her lungs over and over. We all laugh at this now. Nikie and my Mom were always worriers that the worst that is possible is what will generally happen. I love them both and am comforted that they care enough to worry about me even now when I give them a chance. When we quit going to the river, Nikie and I did not think much of it; however, Jimbo was very concerned that the Easter Bunny would not find us. And his daughter, Nikie: I have a million wonderful memories of my father but I found out something just a few weeks before he died that I never knew. I was not an easy child, or teenager. I gave my mother and my father many sleepless nights and days of worry. But their faith in us has never wavered, as I found out when we were sitting together a few weeks ago and he asked me out of the blue "do you remember when that professor accused you of cheating?" It was something I hadn't thought of in decades. I had been an 18 year old freshman and turned in an English paper which received an F because the professor said I was not advanced enough to write such a paper. I had, of course, been terribly affronted and feeling angry and helpless at being falsely accused gone home and cried to my parents about it. My dad never said a word while my mother and I made plans to prove my innocence. Daddy apparently had a simpler plan. At the next class, the professor changed his mind and raised my grade. I thought he realized on his own I had not cheated – until my dad asked me that question, 35 years later. I told him yes, I remembered. He said "I walked over to his office and told him my daughter never cheated and if I heard of him accusing you again I would kick his rear from here to China." My dad and I could never say "I love you" to each other. He showed his love by his actions rather than his words. But looking back, I realize that when he told me that story, he was saying "I love you." My dad never called anyone by their real name. He always called my mother Babe, my brothers Tobe and Jimbo, and I was Kiki or Curly. If we brought a dog home we might as well not give it a name because my Dad always called him something else. When I was 16 I bought a baby blue Ford LTD. Just a few days after I got it, I drove into the Sonic and got the front fender stuck on the microphone. In moving back and forth trying to get unstuck I managed to create a dent about 2 inches deep and a foot long. I thought I could fool my dad by parking the car horizontally to the house with the dent facing away, toward the pasture, but of course it took him about 10 minutes to walk to the other side of the weirdly parked car. I was watching from the front window and still remember the sick feeling when I saw where he was going. He stood with his hands on his hips, just staring at the fender and shaking his head. I went outside to get my lecture and he said only "Curly, curly." And walked off. He didn't have to say the words for me to know I had received my lecture. Every night in Indiana, I would tell him good night and he would say "Night Kiki. See you tomorrow." His names for me always made me feel special. Many things he did for me made me feel special. When I was newly married and had very little in the way of furniture, my dad made it for me – bookcases, a table, benches. He loved working with his hands and made all kinds of things including picture frames and lamps. His most famous pieces of furniture are low stools built to be stable. He created them so the legs are tilted to the exact mathematical angle that makes them not tip over yet take up as little space as possible. I have several and use them constantly. He loved making them and giving them away. I saw some plastic fold-out stools in the store a few weeks ago. I folded one out and eyeballed the degree of the leg tilt. It wasn't perfect like my dad's. He always considered every detail. When I was young he built a little car that rolled smoothly even though the wheels were triangles instead of circles. He had a great mind and it remained sharp until his death. Several times in the last few months he would say something that I thought was absolutely wrong, that maybe he was getting a little senile. Yet, it was always me who turned out to be wrong. Up until three days before he died, he was working on math formulas in his head to keep his mind sharp, and working crossword puzzles. I will greatly miss being able to go to my dad to verify a fact, a memory, or a name. He always remembered. His son Jimbo: 6 years after Nikie Daddy received an unexpected surprise when mother became pregnant again. Maybe he thought he could relive some of Davids football glory with his youngest son but I am afraid he was terribly disappointed. Daddy offered to give me a quarter for every tackle I made during a 3rd grade Pee Wee game. I was very excited and had my windfall up to about 3 dollars at games end. When Dad came over he only gave me 50 cents. I did not understand and asked him why. He said "Jimbo I meant you had to tackle people who were CARRYING THE BALL!" The next morning, I imagine after some coaxing from Mother, I found the other $2.50 on my dresser. He coached us in 4th grade. We were always lucky if we had a winning season, but he wouldn't miss a game for anything and always told me I did good whether it was true or not. During my Freshman year in High School, before my drivers license, Daddy had a white Chevy pickup with a green front end and the hood missing. The hood springs poked up as if they were still holding the hood open, pointing at the sky. He had some mobile homes as rent properties so he would teach school and tend to problems at the mobile home park and drove that pickup everywhere he went. The bed of the truck was always filled with tools, ladders and whatever else he needed. It received its yearly bath at the Elks lodge car wash. I think it skipped a year every now and then. Taking me to school in his truck was a hit and miss proposition. If my friends were gathered out front I would receive an extreme ribbing about it. One of them nicknamed it the BAABAA because of the sound it made. Daddy knew this and I think he got a kick out of it. One morning he had a pink toilet in the back. I could see my friends out front a couple of blocks away and said "Hey Daddy you can drop me off here if you want so you can make it to school faster?" Daddy said "Oh no Jimbo I'll take you right to the front door!" Whether it was remodeling the barn, working on the tractor, painting someone's house, feeding the cows, shooting pool at the Elks Lodge, armchair quarterbacking the Cowboys, or in his later years using his super secret picking system to win the football pool, I rarely saw my Father angry or unhappy. He defended me more than once when he probably shouldn't have. I wish I would have told him I loved him more. You are invited to go to the Guest Book page to pass along your personal message or tell a story. Sincerely, -Your friends at Flanner and Buchanan