In Memory

Gary McLane

Gary Emmett McLane

1949-2003

 

A generous and loving son and brother, died in the shadows of the giant redwoods that he loved at his home in Rio, CA, on Jan. 25, 2003.

Born October 17, 1949 to Robert Emmett and Gwen McLane, their fifth and youngest child in Salt Lake City, Utah. A survivor of polio at the age of one, he never allowed lifelong complications to interfere with the pursuits of his dreams. A graduate of East High School, Gary later moved to Moab, Utah and then to the San Francisco Bay area.

A carpenter, painter, printer and designer, his heart was huge and his nature gentle. A gifted craftsman with an artist's eye, he made remarkable beautiful improvement to his surroundings wherever he lived or worked. Gary is remembered for his unending generosity to his family and friend, and particularly for the special admiration he showed his mother. He was forever a friend to those in need and despised only intolerance and hypocrisy.

Gary leaves behind his mother, Gwen DeLaMare McLane of Salt Lake City; brothers, Patrick, Park City; and John, Salt Lake City; sisters, Barbara, Salt Lake; and Susan, Homer, Alaska; He will also be missed by caring friends, Gary Mathews and Bev Rowe of Monte Rio; as well as many other friends and family members.

A special thank you to his sister Susan and his nephew Ryan, for the care they provided Gary during a lingering illness.

An interment of his ashes will be conducted at 2 p.m. Thursday, Feb. 6th, at Mount Olivet Cemetery. Family and friends are invited to attend a memorial gathering following the interment at his sister's home at 322 Douglas Avenue. In lieu of flowers, donations may be sent in Gary's memory to Face to Face, 873 2nd St., Santa Rosa, CA 95404-4621.

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/962501/Obituary-Gary-Emmett-McLane.html?pg=all

 



 
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06/03/14 02:32 PM #1    

Wendy Whitney

Hey Gary, I know you will get this.  Remember sluffing school and going to Salt Lake cemetary to fly like bats-out-of-hell down the tiny roads in your car.   We went so fast; it was a wonder we never got caught.  Remember the egg fights.  You would bring an egg to school and smash it in my purse or in my pocket.  Once I went to your house and fried an egg and put it on your pillow.  I can still see you riding your mom's unleveled washing machine. It bounced all over the basement. You were my dear friend.  I miss you. Wendy


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