Excerpts from Eulogy to Vincent
He was a Rancher by choice, a Miner by necessity, a carpenter when needed, and acquired skills as both a mechanic and electrician. Both he and Grandma found any number of clever ways to provide a living for themselves and take care of their children. Grandpa worked as the Superintendant of the CCC Camp from 1936 to 1944; his duties placed him squarely in Custer State Park, a convenient location for his job because the The Judd Ranch bordered the park.
He had a quiet personality, passive, content with the way things were and happy simply to enjoy the good things in life, poor in material wealth, but very rich in love for family, friends, nature and the Black Hills.
He loved to sing, tell jokes, have a drink with friends, played the harmonica (he had a stockpile of well-worn hand harps), and read. I remember stacks of National Geographic magazines in their home when I was growing up. He was a “Rock Hound,” and he and Grandma traveled all over – Oregon, Washington, Idaho, California, Arizona – collecting rocks, taking pictures, and visiting relatives along the way.
He also handcrafted furniture, as well as detailed woodworking. He made everything from practical tables and chairs to decorative table trays and coffee coasters.
Grandpa loved being outdoors. He loved fishing, hiking, walking. But not hunting; he would much rather play with a squirrel than shoot it, and loved all creatures great and small, unwilling to harm so much as a bee or spider if at all avoidable. I knew him when he was an old man, of course, but even until his death he liked to go for a walk after dinner everyday and just drink in the sights, sounds, colors of nature. He would gaze on the sky, look at a faraway mountain, comment on the varying shades of greens in the grass and trees, marvel over the distinct shapes of each leaf, and savor the scent and sight of the beautiful flowers that Grandma had planted around the perimeters of their home. He enjoyed watching the birds fly overhead, or the occasional neighborhood cat and dog as they passed by. He appreciated all of life and was a protector of it, taking only what necessity demanded.
He loved his family and his friends and somehow conveyed that love to each of them without speaking any sappy words about it. He liked people and welcomed strangers. He would not tolerate cruelty. He was a gentle man, an intelligent man, both relaxed and dignified. He was greatly missed by those who knew him after he died; and he is remembered by the few who remain who knew him when he was alive.
He was a Rancher by choice, a Miner by necessity, a carpenter when needed, and acquired skills as both a mechanic and electrician. Both he and Grandma found any number of clever ways to provide a living for themselves and take care of their children. Grandpa worked as the Superintendant of the CCC Camp from 1936 to 1944; his duties placed him squarely in Custer State Park, a convenient location for his job because the The Judd Ranch bordered the park.
He had a quiet personality, passive, content with the way things were and happy simply to enjoy the good things in life, poor in material wealth, but very rich in love for family, friends, nature and the Black Hills.
He loved to sing, tell jokes, have a drink with friends, played the harmonica (he had a stockpile of well-worn hand harps), and read. I remember stacks of National Geographic magazines in their home when I was growing up. He was a “Rock Hound,” and he and Grandma traveled all over – Oregon, Washington, Idaho, California, Arizona – collecting rocks, taking pictures, and visiting relatives along the way.
He also handcrafted furniture, as well as detailed woodworking. He made everything from practical tables and chairs to decorative table trays and coffee coasters.
Grandpa loved being outdoors. He loved fishing, hiking, walking. But not hunting; he would much rather play with a squirrel than shoot it, and loved all creatures great and small, unwilling to harm so much as a bee or spider if at all avoidable. I knew him when he was an old man, of course, but even until his death he liked to go for a walk after dinner everyday and just drink in the sights, sounds, colors of nature. He would gaze on the sky, look at a faraway mountain, comment on the varying shades of greens in the grass and trees, marvel over the distinct shapes of each leaf, and savor the scent and sight of the beautiful flowers that Grandma had planted around the perimeters of their home. He enjoyed watching the birds fly overhead, or the occasional neighborhood cat and dog as they passed by. He appreciated all of life and was a protector of it, taking only what necessity demanded.
He loved his family and his friends and somehow conveyed that love to each of them without speaking any sappy words about it. He liked people and welcomed strangers. He would not tolerate cruelty. He was a gentle man, an intelligent man, both relaxed and dignified. He was greatly missed by those who knew him after he died; and he is remembered by the few who remain who knew him when he was alive.
Excerpts from Eulogy to Vincent
He was a Rancher by choice, a Miner by necessity, a carpenter when needed, and acquired skills as both a mechanic and electrician. Both he and Grandma found any number of clever ways to provide a living for themselves and take care of their children. Grandpa worked as the Superintendant of the CCC Camp from 1936 to 1944; his duties placed him squarely in Custer State Park, a convenient location for his job because the The Judd Ranch bordered the park.
He had a quiet personality, passive, content with the way things were and happy simply to enjoy the good things in life, poor in material wealth, but very rich in love for family, friends, nature and the Black Hills.
He loved to sing, tell jokes, have a drink with friends, played the harmonica (he had a stockpile of well-worn hand harps), and read. I remember stacks of National Geographic magazines in their home when I was growing up. He was a “Rock Hound,” and he and Grandma traveled all over – Oregon, Washington, Idaho, California, Arizona – collecting rocks, taking pictures, and visiting relatives along the way.
He also handcrafted furniture, as well as detailed woodworking. He made everything from practical tables and chairs to decorative table trays and coffee coasters.
Grandpa loved being outdoors. He loved fishing, hiking, walking. But not hunting; he would much rather play with a squirrel than shoot it, and loved all creatures great and small, unwilling to harm so much as a bee or spider if at all avoidable. I knew him when he was an old man, of course, but even until his death he liked to go for a walk after dinner everyday and just drink in the sights, sounds, colors of nature. He would gaze on the sky, look at a faraway mountain, comment on the varying shades of greens in the grass and trees, marvel over the distinct shapes of each leaf, and savor the scent and sight of the beautiful flowers that Grandma had planted around the perimeters of their home. He enjoyed watching the birds fly overhead, or the occasional neighborhood cat and dog as they passed by. He appreciated all of life and was a protector of it, taking only what necessity demanded.
He loved his family and his friends and somehow conveyed that love to each of them without speaking any sappy words about it. He liked people and welcomed strangers. He would not tolerate cruelty. He was a gentle man, an intelligent man, both relaxed and dignified. He was greatly missed by those who knew him after he died; and he is remembered by the few who remain who knew him when he was alive.
He was a Rancher by choice, a Miner by necessity, a carpenter when needed, and acquired skills as both a mechanic and electrician. Both he and Grandma found any number of clever ways to provide a living for themselves and take care of their children. Grandpa worked as the Superintendant of the CCC Camp from 1936 to 1944; his duties placed him squarely in Custer State Park, a convenient location for his job because the The Judd Ranch bordered the park.
He had a quiet personality, passive, content with the way things were and happy simply to enjoy the good things in life, poor in material wealth, but very rich in love for family, friends, nature and the Black Hills.
He loved to sing, tell jokes, have a drink with friends, played the harmonica (he had a stockpile of well-worn hand harps), and read. I remember stacks of National Geographic magazines in their home when I was growing up. He was a “Rock Hound,” and he and Grandma traveled all over – Oregon, Washington, Idaho, California, Arizona – collecting rocks, taking pictures, and visiting relatives along the way.
He also handcrafted furniture, as well as detailed woodworking. He made everything from practical tables and chairs to decorative table trays and coffee coasters.
Grandpa loved being outdoors. He loved fishing, hiking, walking. But not hunting; he would much rather play with a squirrel than shoot it, and loved all creatures great and small, unwilling to harm so much as a bee or spider if at all avoidable. I knew him when he was an old man, of course, but even until his death he liked to go for a walk after dinner everyday and just drink in the sights, sounds, colors of nature. He would gaze on the sky, look at a faraway mountain, comment on the varying shades of greens in the grass and trees, marvel over the distinct shapes of each leaf, and savor the scent and sight of the beautiful flowers that Grandma had planted around the perimeters of their home. He enjoyed watching the birds fly overhead, or the occasional neighborhood cat and dog as they passed by. He appreciated all of life and was a protector of it, taking only what necessity demanded.
He loved his family and his friends and somehow conveyed that love to each of them without speaking any sappy words about it. He liked people and welcomed strangers. He would not tolerate cruelty. He was a gentle man, an intelligent man, both relaxed and dignified. He was greatly missed by those who knew him after he died; and he is remembered by the few who remain who knew him when he was alive.
Inscription
Vincent Judd South Dakota Pvt US Army World War I March 6 1891 Sept 15, 1973
Gravesite Details
Veteran WWI - stationed in California (records lost by US government)
Family Members
Siblings
