Bernard Gordon “Sam” Holmes December 29, 1932—August 15, 2014 Obituary - Alden-Waggoner Funeral Chapel and Crematory

I was born in Susanville, a sleepy little town in northern California, to Bernard Prentice Holmes and Edna Mae Silver Holmes. My brother, Richard Alan, we called him Dick, looked forward to having a little brother and made sure I knew it for years to come.

We lived in Susanville until I was about 6 years old, where I learned about Santa Clause, fishing with a willow switch and safety pin, and the futility of trying to defy my dad. And it was during this time that I learned about angels. On my walk back from my cousin Vernon’s house pulling my wagon, I walked out into an intersection and was clipped by a passing car. Passers by called me a stupid kid and the driver of the car didn’t stop, but my special angel was looking out for me. That was the end of my independent travels.

I was about 7 when the family moved on to Alturas where we enjoyed the company of jackrabbits, snakes, and scorpions. This is where my big brother, Dick, taught me how to ride a bike. Being the great guy that he was, he got me going about 85 miles per hour and then let go. Believe me when I say that falling off at that speed is something I didn’t care to repeat, but I finally learned to ride a bike.

From there, the family went to Tulle Lake, and then to Quincy where I had yet another speed adventure where some good buddies convinced me to try out skiing. They buckled some old cross-country skis on me and pushed me down the hill. When I hit that 85 mph mark I flashed back to another time. That was the end of skiing for me.

We were in Quincy on December 7 when Pearl Harbor was attacked. I was just a kid and didn’t understand the enormity of the situation but I got educated in a hurry. I got a job selling newspapers and would sell them to the soldiers on the trains as they slowed down to pass through town. I was just 9 at the time.

Our next move was to Redding, the hottest place this side of the other hottest place. I had just gotten a new sleeping bag and was fooling around and crawled into it head first. Dick took this opportunity to tie the bag closed and watch me squirm. By the time I finished kicking and screaming, there was nothing left of my bag but the stuffing. He later made amends by making me a great slingshot, which I promptly used to shoot him squarely in the forehead.

Our next move was to Salinas, the salad bowl of the world. I rode my bike to school one day and when I went to retrieve it, I found an empty slot where my bike used to be. Very dejected, and not a little angry, I started on that long walk home. Along the way, I saw my bike being shared by a group of the local tough guys. I marched in to their festivities demanding my bike back, which on hindsight was probably not a good idea. At the point that I thought that my days were numbered, I heard a voice behind me say, “Give him back his bike”. I thought for sure God was talking, and I turned around to see two of the biggest boys I had ever seen. Apparently, these tough guys were not at the top of the ladder after all because they all scattered like cats, or chickens, whichever the case might be. These two giants ended up being my best friends, Manny Ramos and Dick Glass.

While we were in Salinas, my brother, Dick, enlisted in the Navy. When he left, I was 12 years old and 145 pounds. When he returned, I was 180 pounds. I asked him if he still wanted to pound on me. We ended up being best friends in every way.

Finally, we landed in Santa Cruz. (I guess you should know that we bounced around a lot because of my dad’s job. He started out as a salesman for State Farm Insurance and worked his way up to district manager). This is where my passion for cars began and my past speed experiences got put to practical use (or impractical if you asked my dad).

I spent the next three years at Santa Cruz High School, and felt like an alien. Such a tightly knit community did not take to an outsider so I was pretty much a loner for the first year and a half. And then the sun rose and the light shined in the form of one Bob Mollring. With him as my mentor, I learned to swear, drink, fight, and drive. Stand back, because I had some catching up to do. Bob and I partnered up on a couple of cars and when he left for the Army, he left me with the title on a ’33 Ford coup. Unfortunately, his brother stole it and took of for Wyoming. I never saw it again. I did end up with another ’33 Ford and customized it into a real screamer. I was the “MAN”.

Shortly after graduation I was married. Shirley Kay Wright and I eloped to Gardnerville, Nevada. We took off with friends Bob and Annie Mitchell in my 1941 Pontiac convertible on one nightmare of a trip. Heavy rains, flat tire, no jack, and the list goes on. The trip that should have taken five hours ended up taking ten. When we got to the courthouse, we both lied about our ages and we weren’t questioned. Green makes a difference. The trip home was uneventful and we kept our marital status a secret for three months. We finally set up housekeeping in a little cottage close to the beach and spilled the beans.

Kay and I moved to Hawthorne, following Dick and his wife, Betty. We only stayed for a short time because by then, Kay was pregnant with Jan and we found out that the only doctor in town was a drunk. We went back to Santa Cruz and in 1951 Janette was born.

We then move to the Santa Clara/San Jose area where I got a job at Carnation Milk Company. I worked on the dock loading delivery trucks and loading and driving semis. I enjoyed the work and got all the dairy products we could use for free. I was 18 at the time and thought it was about time a got my own delivery route. I was finally transferred to Monterey for a year.

My next job was at Westinghouse where I worked on an assembly line building transformers. It was interesting work and also challenging.

In 1957 Tom was born. Shortly after, Uncle Paul Russo got me a job where he was head butcher. This is where I learned the grocery business from the ground floor. The store manager, Pepe Vierra, invited me to join the bowling team. I’d never bowled in my life but it was time to learn. I grew to enjoy the sport and participated league bowling for years.

At the store I saw the opportunity to start my own little business painting signs. I didn’t know what kind of brushes or paint I needed but I was willing to give it a try. My first attempt made me the laughing stock of the store, but a professional sign painter saw my potential and led me on the right track. This gave me a side business for many years to come,

During these days, I found out that my heart was too small for my body and the doctors suggested a move to a higher elevation to help it become stronger. My cousin, Vernon, helped me find a job in Reno with Rawson Drug, so off our little family went to the “Biggest Little City in the World”. I worked for Rawson and painted signs (Sam’s Signs) for 12 years.

After 17 years my marriage came to an end and some major changes came into my life.

I opened my own grocery store but after two years, the economy forced its closure. I then started managing a Food King Market for 6 months. Between the years 1967 and 1974 I went through a rough patch and 3 marriages. Not a time that I am proud of and will not go into it further.

About the mid 70’s I broke into an entirely new line of work, mobile home sales, and in 1976 I met Marla. She was a cute divorcee that I sold a mobile home to. After we closed on the mobile home sale, I asked her to dinner. One thing led to another and three months later we were married. Marla had three kids. Kreg, the oldest of the three, stayed with his dad in Mountain Home. Tracie and Mark lived with us. We sold a piece of property we had bought and had enough money to buy a home near Washoe Lake, between Reno and Carson City. These were good times. I worked for Northern Nevada Mobile Homes and Marla worked at the bank where NNMH did business. After some shady dealings by the bank and NNMH, we finally ended up starting our own business in Battle Mountain. We prospered and grew while we there until the last seven or eight months. The mines closed, shifts were cut, and the economy collapsed. It was time to move on so we went to Boise.

In Boise we took a little time off, bought a house, fixed it up and resold. We made a little profit and were able to get another house. But it was time to get cracking and I made another career change, still in sales but this time I was selling cars. That lasted a short time and wasn’t really for me, so I moved on to RV sales at Treasure Valley RV. I ended up staying for 13 years.

Things were going along OK until Marla became ill. We were forced to sell out, buy a travel trailer, and move on. We went to the Oregon Coast, but this was a big mistake. No good medical care, bad weather, no work. We were in a bad situation. Jan called from Walla Walla and invited us to stay with them for a while. We took her up on the offer and picked up and moved to Walla Walla. We had a nice place to set up our trailer and Jan set me up for a job interview at a graphic apparel store. We found a good lady doctor to help Marla, and then found a naturopath who helped her even more. After a year of so, Marla was greatly improved. Mark called and invited us to come down to Layton and stay with them for awhile. Finally, it was time to go back to Boise. Marla’s mother had become quite ill and needed help. We moved into her house and took care of her until she was able to be on her own again.

I am in my 70’s now and finally, we are in our own home again and we are very comfortable. I have worked various jobs driving people from point A to point B. I’ve met very interesting people and I enjoy doing what I’m doing. I swore that I would work until I die and I almost made it. July 31 was a work day delivering dentures to different dentists and on August 1, Marla’s birthday, I suffered a massive heart attack. The hospital staff restarted my heart 23 times before they finally stabilized me. I got to go home on Tuesday, August 5. The kids had mowed the lawn, pulled the weeds, and shampooed the carpet. It was such a joy to come home to and I enjoyed every bit of it. For two weeks I enjoyed the comfort of my home and Marla’s home cooking. On Friday I had a visit with my granddaughter, Brooke, and a phone call from my daughter, Jan. When our call was ended, I closed my eyes and surrendered my soul to Jesus. I am in his hands now and I just want to let you know that everything is good. I love you all more than words can express, and I know that one day we will all be together again. Be good to one another, love on another, and don’t forget say it. Trust in God and in His Son, Jesus Christ, for he is the Truth and the Life.

The service will be at 3:00 p.m. this Sunday, August 24, 2014 at the Cathedral of the Rockies – Amity Campus.

Bernard Gordon “Sam” Holmes December 29, 1932—August 15, 2014

Bernard Gordon “Sam” Holmes December 29, 1932—August 15, 2014

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