I don’t know how eloquent or how well written this piece will be because I am writing it with a broken heart. Once again, in another state fellow patriots, friends and yes some enemies of the patriot movement are with a family laying a man to rest.
KC was not your ordinary or run of the mill man in any aspect of his life. He was an outstanding father. I am hard pressed to recall a time we talked where his children did not come up in conversation, be it a story about them or just how much he loved and missed them. KC’s voice would get a little lighter and you could tell just talking about them with someone made his day a little brighter. His love for them and being a grandpa was the center of his heart.
KC had a tough time in his childhood and earlier years (which he turned around) and he wanted so much more for his kids, he did everything in his power to ensure it with love, life lessons, and guidance in only a way that KC could do…from what I see and what he has shared with me, he was a great success in his endeavor.
As a patriot he served on the border of his state and he had a voice that was heard by many when he spoke about the corruption of our Government, the Constitution and what we could do to protect our God given rights. He loves people and helping people better themselves. Teaching them. Encouraging them.
KC was highly intelligent and could talk about a vast number of subjects, I am not talking about a little on foreign affairs and a little on religion or home repair…I mean he knew what he was talking about and educated himself on many subjects. If you had a conversation with KC you either were introduced to something new on the subject you were talking about or at least got a different perspective to explore.
There is so much I could write about God’s newest angel, but now is not the time for that. I just know that now he is with our Father in heaven, free and without pain. If I could guess, God wrapped his arms around him and said “Well done my son.” Get much needed rest now, you fought a valiant fight my friend, right until the very end.
KC once told me “Awwww, I’m just a big ole’ softy, I’m just an old’ East Texas redneck biker.”
That statement, to me, embodies my friend. Beyond the tough, tattooed, bearded, rough exterior lies a heart of gold that is bigger than the state he resided in.
I know that one day we will see each other again, but until then I will carry my friend’s laughter in my heart and make sure that his story is not forgotten.
KC and Camp Lonestar