Clifford was the son of Jess and Sarah Buffington. He had one other sibling, a brother named Alfred. His family lived in the southeastern part of Kansas.
Clifford was a man with many stories. I (being his daughter) still remember some of them that he told us. One story was that his great grandfather often saw the family of Jesse James the outlaw on the road to town. They lived close to Cliff's home. I do know
that he was raised in a town, Oswego, and not on a farm. Another story was about the time he meant Pretty Boy Floyd at a bar. Dad was a member of a small jazz band (James' Jazz Band). Pretty Boy Floyd visited the bar where dad's band was playing at the time.
I was told often by his mom, my grandmother, that Cliff was the child that was always getting in trouble, nothing major just little things. While his older brother, Alfred was the easy to raise child. Dad loved to play pranks on others as my grandmother told me too.
Dad was very musical. He took both piano and violin lessons when he was young. He was in the band at high school and played trumpet. As I mentioned he also started a small jazz band after high School. In his band he played the piano and the trumpet. I am not sure how long his band was together, but it lasted at least until he got married. He often played the piano he had at his home. It was always jazz music he played. He even played that same piano up until he was very old. That piano was then at my home. He played it when he visited our place.
What we remember most about dad, especially in his later years, was his sense of humor. He was often telling jokes, some not in good taste either. It was the way that he would laugh at his own jokes that we remember the most.
Dad loved his kids and grandkids with all his heart. He had nicknames for both my sister and I, Sweetie pie, and baby doll. He later called his granddaughter, Cheri baby doll too. When my dad and mom moved to Hemet, after they retired, we would visit them there. He always took our kids to the park or somewhere fun.
Story: On September 11, 2001 when the World Trade Center was destroyed dad was in the hospital recovering from surgery on a stomach aneurysm. I tried to phone him from home to see if he knew what had happened back east. The phone was answered but it was all garbled. It sounded like the phone was dropped. I was concerned and called down below to the front desk of the hospital. A security officer happened to answer the phone. I told him that I was trying to reach my dad and that something had happened. The security officer told me that the hospital had just been put on alert too since the government thought the terrorist might come to California too. He explained that the nurses most likely could not get to dad and that he would go up and check on what was going on. A few minutes later the security officer came back on the phone and told me dad had slipped out of the bed trying to get to the phone. He handed the phone to my dad. I told him what had happened in New York and the World Trade Center. Dad said to me, "Well, by gone I think someone bombed the nurse's station too. I have been ringing this bell forever!" This was the last time I heard dad's voice. He passed away a few days later.
Dad has been greatly missed by all of our family. He was a unique individual one that we hope will be remember by his descendants.
Clifford was a man with many stories. I (being his daughter) still remember some of them that he told us. One story was that his great grandfather often saw the family of Jesse James the outlaw on the road to town. They lived close to Cliff's home. I do know
that he was raised in a town, Oswego, and not on a farm. Another story was about the time he meant Pretty Boy Floyd at a bar. Dad was a member of a small jazz band (James' Jazz Band). Pretty Boy Floyd visited the bar where dad's band was playing at the time.
I was told often by his mom, my grandmother, that Cliff was the child that was always getting in trouble, nothing major just little things. While his older brother, Alfred was the easy to raise child. Dad loved to play pranks on others as my grandmother told me too.
Dad was very musical. He took both piano and violin lessons when he was young. He was in the band at high school and played trumpet. As I mentioned he also started a small jazz band after high School. In his band he played the piano and the trumpet. I am not sure how long his band was together, but it lasted at least until he got married. He often played the piano he had at his home. It was always jazz music he played. He even played that same piano up until he was very old. That piano was then at my home. He played it when he visited our place.
What we remember most about dad, especially in his later years, was his sense of humor. He was often telling jokes, some not in good taste either. It was the way that he would laugh at his own jokes that we remember the most.
Dad loved his kids and grandkids with all his heart. He had nicknames for both my sister and I, Sweetie pie, and baby doll. He later called his granddaughter, Cheri baby doll too. When my dad and mom moved to Hemet, after they retired, we would visit them there. He always took our kids to the park or somewhere fun.
Story: On September 11, 2001 when the World Trade Center was destroyed dad was in the hospital recovering from surgery on a stomach aneurysm. I tried to phone him from home to see if he knew what had happened back east. The phone was answered but it was all garbled. It sounded like the phone was dropped. I was concerned and called down below to the front desk of the hospital. A security officer happened to answer the phone. I told him that I was trying to reach my dad and that something had happened. The security officer told me that the hospital had just been put on alert too since the government thought the terrorist might come to California too. He explained that the nurses most likely could not get to dad and that he would go up and check on what was going on. A few minutes later the security officer came back on the phone and told me dad had slipped out of the bed trying to get to the phone. He handed the phone to my dad. I told him what had happened in New York and the World Trade Center. Dad said to me, "Well, by gone I think someone bombed the nurse's station too. I have been ringing this bell forever!" This was the last time I heard dad's voice. He passed away a few days later.
Dad has been greatly missed by all of our family. He was a unique individual one that we hope will be remember by his descendants.
Clifford was the son of Jess and Sarah Buffington. He had one other sibling, a brother named Alfred. His family lived in the southeastern part of Kansas.
Clifford was a man with many stories. I (being his daughter) still remember some of them that he told us. One story was that his great grandfather often saw the family of Jesse James the outlaw on the road to town. They lived close to Cliff's home. I do know
that he was raised in a town, Oswego, and not on a farm. Another story was about the time he meant Pretty Boy Floyd at a bar. Dad was a member of a small jazz band (James' Jazz Band). Pretty Boy Floyd visited the bar where dad's band was playing at the time.
I was told often by his mom, my grandmother, that Cliff was the child that was always getting in trouble, nothing major just little things. While his older brother, Alfred was the easy to raise child. Dad loved to play pranks on others as my grandmother told me too.
Dad was very musical. He took both piano and violin lessons when he was young. He was in the band at high school and played trumpet. As I mentioned he also started a small jazz band after high School. In his band he played the piano and the trumpet. I am not sure how long his band was together, but it lasted at least until he got married. He often played the piano he had at his home. It was always jazz music he played. He even played that same piano up until he was very old. That piano was then at my home. He played it when he visited our place.
What we remember most about dad, especially in his later years, was his sense of humor. He was often telling jokes, some not in good taste either. It was the way that he would laugh at his own jokes that we remember the most.
Dad loved his kids and grandkids with all his heart. He had nicknames for both my sister and I, Sweetie pie, and baby doll. He later called his granddaughter, Cheri baby doll too. When my dad and mom moved to Hemet, after they retired, we would visit them there. He always took our kids to the park or somewhere fun.
Story: On September 11, 2001 when the World Trade Center was destroyed dad was in the hospital recovering from surgery on a stomach aneurysm. I tried to phone him from home to see if he knew what had happened back east. The phone was answered but it was all garbled. It sounded like the phone was dropped. I was concerned and called down below to the front desk of the hospital. A security officer happened to answer the phone. I told him that I was trying to reach my dad and that something had happened. The security officer told me that the hospital had just been put on alert too since the government thought the terrorist might come to California too. He explained that the nurses most likely could not get to dad and that he would go up and check on what was going on. A few minutes later the security officer came back on the phone and told me dad had slipped out of the bed trying to get to the phone. He handed the phone to my dad. I told him what had happened in New York and the World Trade Center. Dad said to me, "Well, by gone I think someone bombed the nurse's station too. I have been ringing this bell forever!" This was the last time I heard dad's voice. He passed away a few days later.
Dad has been greatly missed by all of our family. He was a unique individual one that we hope will be remember by his descendants.
Clifford was a man with many stories. I (being his daughter) still remember some of them that he told us. One story was that his great grandfather often saw the family of Jesse James the outlaw on the road to town. They lived close to Cliff's home. I do know
that he was raised in a town, Oswego, and not on a farm. Another story was about the time he meant Pretty Boy Floyd at a bar. Dad was a member of a small jazz band (James' Jazz Band). Pretty Boy Floyd visited the bar where dad's band was playing at the time.
I was told often by his mom, my grandmother, that Cliff was the child that was always getting in trouble, nothing major just little things. While his older brother, Alfred was the easy to raise child. Dad loved to play pranks on others as my grandmother told me too.
Dad was very musical. He took both piano and violin lessons when he was young. He was in the band at high school and played trumpet. As I mentioned he also started a small jazz band after high School. In his band he played the piano and the trumpet. I am not sure how long his band was together, but it lasted at least until he got married. He often played the piano he had at his home. It was always jazz music he played. He even played that same piano up until he was very old. That piano was then at my home. He played it when he visited our place.
What we remember most about dad, especially in his later years, was his sense of humor. He was often telling jokes, some not in good taste either. It was the way that he would laugh at his own jokes that we remember the most.
Dad loved his kids and grandkids with all his heart. He had nicknames for both my sister and I, Sweetie pie, and baby doll. He later called his granddaughter, Cheri baby doll too. When my dad and mom moved to Hemet, after they retired, we would visit them there. He always took our kids to the park or somewhere fun.
Story: On September 11, 2001 when the World Trade Center was destroyed dad was in the hospital recovering from surgery on a stomach aneurysm. I tried to phone him from home to see if he knew what had happened back east. The phone was answered but it was all garbled. It sounded like the phone was dropped. I was concerned and called down below to the front desk of the hospital. A security officer happened to answer the phone. I told him that I was trying to reach my dad and that something had happened. The security officer told me that the hospital had just been put on alert too since the government thought the terrorist might come to California too. He explained that the nurses most likely could not get to dad and that he would go up and check on what was going on. A few minutes later the security officer came back on the phone and told me dad had slipped out of the bed trying to get to the phone. He handed the phone to my dad. I told him what had happened in New York and the World Trade Center. Dad said to me, "Well, by gone I think someone bombed the nurse's station too. I have been ringing this bell forever!" This was the last time I heard dad's voice. He passed away a few days later.
Dad has been greatly missed by all of our family. He was a unique individual one that we hope will be remember by his descendants.
Inscription
S2 US NAVY
WORLD WAR II
Gravesite Details
He shares a gravestone with his wife, Glenna Buffington. They were buried on top of each other in the grave. Clifford is buried on top since Glenna died first.
Family Members
Siblings
