The Legacy Left…

My favorite memory of Brian is from when he and my son Taylor were younger, he had come over and they were playing outside. After I hadn’t heard from them, I grew suspicious and knew they were up to no good. I went outside yelling for them, more than once. Eventually, they came trudging back, covered head to toe in mud, grinning like they’d had the best day of their life. Apparently the boys thought it was a good idea to take a mud bath in the neighbor’s alfalfa field. It was a moment that made me shake my head then, but smile now.

That was Brian: full of mischief, joy, and unforgettable memories.

Brian was the kind of guy who would show up, no matter the reason or the time of day.

I played football with Brian and later worked alongside him for the Forest Service. We quickly became close friends, and some of our other coworkers even referred to us as “brothers” when we walked around the station. No matter what scenario we were in, even if things got a little sketchy at times, Brian was always there to lighten the mood and crack a joke. Anyone who’s ever been around him knew his laugh was contagious, and it was almost impossible not to crack a smile.

Although we spent many days climbing hills, both near and far, my favorite memories together are all the times when we had nowhere else to be—especially those long days of throwing cornhole bags and even longer nights spent playing darts.

I was at a complete loss for words when I found out about Brian’s passing, and I’m still not fully able to express how I feel about it today. What I do know is that Brian was a great friend and an even better man.

So much so that my son’s middle name is Brian. The name was an easy choice for my wife and me because all of those great characteristics that made Brian who he was are what I think every parent hopes their son will carry as well. He had the strength to stand up for others and the heart to be there for the people around him.

To those people, he will never be forgotten.

We miss you, buddy.

Shane Rakestraw

March 28th, 2022

Hey Brian, it’s your cousin Gina. Your smile is contagious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not smiling. In high school there were days where I wasn’t happy and I would see you smiling in the hallway and it would make my worse days better. You have always been there for me even if you didn’t know it. I can remember riding the bus with you, watching you lay football while I cheered on the sidelines, and most of all, I remember your big heart. The love you have for your family is unmeasurable. We may not be cousins by blood, but you will always be my family. I love you so much cousin. Get better, and I hope to see you soon. I love you always and forever.

Love, Gina

When I think of my nephew, I don’t think of him simply as my nephew. He was more like a little brother to me. We were only 12 years apart, and because of that, we shared so many memories throughout his life that I will always carry with me.

When I was in high school, I would take him to and from daycare, and he would sit in my car rocking out to music like he was one of the teenagers. We went to Six Flags, Disneyland, and countless other places. Those ordinary moments became some of the memories I treasure most.

Some of my favorite memories are from when he was little and would come out to the ranch. He loved being there. He would drive around in his Power Wheels Gator, completely convinced he was one of the ranch hands. He would work around the property, help clean the horse pens, and just find something to keep himself busy. He was always happiest when he was helping.

He would often sneak off and climb onto my horse, Annie, bareback, and didnt tell a sole until he was older. As he got older, that same love for family never changed. He loved spending time with my kids and making memories with them. He would take them driving and shooting, pick them up, and take them for Dutch Bros run. He was the kind of person who showed his love by spending time with the people he cared about and doing things for them. And then there are the memories that make me laugh even through the tears.

One of my favorites involves a high-powered pellet gun. He asked me if I wanted to shoot it, conveniently leaving out the very important detail that it was a high-powered pellet gun. He walked inside, I took a shot, and the gun kicked back and hit me right in the face, cutting open my eye. He came back outside, looked at me, and said, “Oh, did the gun hit you in the eye?”

I said, “Yeah. How did you know?”

He looked at me and said, “Your eye is cut open,” and then started laughing. He knew exactly what was going to happen and somehow thought it was hilarious that he had neglected to give me that little piece of information.

He loved his family. He loved the ranch. He loved working with his hands and helping wherever he could. He loved making memories with the people around him. 

I am so grateful that I got to have him in my life not just as my nephew, but as the little brother I never knew I needed. I will always cherish the years, the adventures, and the laughs.

I wish we had more time. But I will forever be thankful for the time we did have.

I will miss you more than words can say. I hope you know how deeply you were loved, and I hope you knew just how special you were to all of us.

Until we meet again, I’ll carry you with me in every song that takes me back to those car rides, every memory of the ranch, every laugh, and every story I get to tell about you.

I love you always.

Corey Permann