Edwin Bernard Earle Jr.

Edwin Bernard Earle Jr., or as his friends and family called him, E.B., passed away on Saturday, January 9th at the age of 85. After years of slowing down, he died in his Ridgecrest, California home with his oldest son and caretaker, Hank, by his side.

On behalf of our family, I, his youngest daughter Kathryn, want to tell you about my amazing dad.

Got your boots on? They better be spit shined.

If you said "hey, E.B" he would look at you with his steel grey eyes and respond: "hay is for horses."

Edwin Bernard Earle Jr. was born in Marlinton, West Virginia on July 1, 1935 to Edwin Bernard Earle Sr. and Bessie Mae McCoy. To keep things straight, Bessie called her husband "Barney" while her young son was fondly known as E.B.

E.B. had one sister, Mildred, and three brothers; Robert, Harold and John.  At 82 years old, Johnny is his only surviving brother. He lives in California.

In high school, the boys moved from "West by God Virginia" to San Diego, California. It was a rough fit. Amid culture shock, the country boys settled into their new home on 1920 South Ditmar Street in Oceanside, California. E.B. worked on a fishing boat. Even though he got sea sick every day, he liked to fish.

In 1952 Phyllis Jean Jackson asked E.B. to a Sadie Hawkins High School dance. In 1956, they got married. The Earle's had four children; Hank Nelson, William Bernard, Susan Michelle and Kathryn Denise. Hank was his caretaker, friend and companion until the end when he passed in his home on January 9th, 2021 in Ridgecrest, CA. William "Bill" Bernard lives in Henderson, Nevada with his wife Kate.  Daughter Susan Stevens, also lives in Henderson with her husband, Larry. His youngest Kathryn Cooper lives in Auburn, Washington with her husband Aaron. E.B. is also survived by his five grandkids, Branden Keith Crookshanks, Mira, Kari and Taylor Winkel, and Jennifer Gail Volek Fox.

E.B was a Master at Arms and paratrooper in the 82 ^nd Airborne Division of the United States Army. He worked at the Michelson Laboratory at the Naval Air Weapons Station China Lake designing the Sidewinder missile. He worked on the ejection seat at Snort Track and was an electronic technician before he retired.

One of the founding Fathers of the Sandblasters Motorcycle Club, E.B. could take apart a motorcycle and put it back together again. He rode them, and raced them through the desert catching jack rabbits by their ears. We all learned how to ride in the desert, on his 650 Triumph. As an avid outdoorsman, our family of six was always busy. The Sandblasters put on races. They hosted rabbit chases and huge spaghetti dinners, and Christmas banquets. For Easter every year we all met in Horse Canyon to eat meat, wrapped in burlap bags and cooked in a big fire pit.  We learned how to drive when he made us throw the lyme bags for Hare-N-Hound and Hare Scramble desert races. Our cousins and us kids couldn't wait until we were old enough to stand at the top of Piss Cutter Mountain, marking the racer's gas tanks with a crayon. Being tall enough, fast enough and brave enough to take that crayon with the color of your check point, and slash your mark was a rite of passage.

If E.B. wasn't taking us motorcycle riding, we were water skiing, backpacking, hunting, fishing, shooting guns, and camping in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. We spent months in June Lake with our mom's parents, and weeks in Oceanside with E.B.'s folks. He taught us to fish in streams, on boats in the ocean, and ashore standing on a dock too. A spot-fin grouper Mom caught on the San Diego Pier was the loudest fish we ever heard. When the Sierra Nevada Mountains got too high for our grandparents, Dad took us to Hope, Idaho.

When the boys joined the Cub Scouts, dad built pine box derby cars with them. Dad took us to every out of town meet when we joined 4-H. Training seeing-eye dogs for Guide Dogs for the Blind San Rafael, California also became a big part of our family. We cried when the dogs would go to their new homes. Training continued to be a big part of dad's life after all the kids grew up and moved out. After Phyllis, E.B. went on to marry Sam, who was blind. They loved their guide dogs, Gabby and Willow.

E.B. taught us kids to always stand up straight, stand up for ourselves as well as each other and America.  When we were in high school, dad made sure to fit in by saying "Farm Out," (far out) "Gravy" (groovy) and "Outta State!" (outta sight).

Growing up, dad turned our backyard into a beautiful garden. His close friend Chuck Thomas let us kids help raise grey hound puppies back there. There was a greyhound puppy named after each one of us kids.

The food on our table was always put there by E.B. He hunted venison, grouse, pheasant, quail and even snakes.  We fished and went frog giggin'. We raised our own pigs out at H.R. Rouses farm, and dad even pulled us all out of school one day so he could show us how to properly slaughter a pig, render the fat and provide for ourselves. All these lessons fit into the greater teaching by him of how to be a steward of the land we are so blessed to use, so the next guy will find it just a little better than how we found it.  This earth is a whole lot better because of the time E.B. Earle spent on it and so are we all.  Thanks Dad for your being all that you could be so I can be who I am today.

Thank you for your prayers and support during our time of loss.

Special thanks to Hank, who selflessly cared for dad until he took his final breaths.