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I just accidentally found Randy's obit. today.  I am a former college and seminary classmate.  Randy greatly encouraged me in my first year in college and I met him later on, when he was the chaplain at Meridian Village in Glen Carbon, IL.  What a tremendous pastor and friend.

Rev. Darwin Schrader

Lebanon,IL

I recently reconnected with Don Bucknam, former COO and the publisher I replaced at The Republic in Columbus. Don is about to turn 89 and I turned 80 in May. The text exchange brought warm and quirky memories of Randall. He was a brilliant and hard working newspaper man, with a style that could be overwhelming at times, but he had a way of always leaving me smiling after some hot business disagreement.  I miss him and our talks. 
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A sleepover at the Staggs
2015, Zionsville, IN, USA
A sleepover at the Staggs
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Dear Randall and Patrice, save me a place at the euchre table with Bill. True love never dies. 
Randall and I were on a fishing trip in Montana to a remote location where he had once been. We spent the day fishing and returned to have a drink at the bar of a small lodge. The bartender ask if we had bear spray with us because they had been having a lot of trouble with bears where we had been fishing. Of course we did not so we just laughed and cheered our glasses!
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I cherish the memories of having met Randall and Patrice while on a Cruise with my beloved late wife, Trudi.

My thoughts are with Patrice.

Having learned Randall was a Balloon Pilot, I hope to honor his memory this Autumn at the Festival in Albuquerque. 

Blessings and wishes for strength with her health challenges are offered to Patrice.

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Missing you all the time, Randall. Best wishes to his family and friends. 
2023
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Shared a heart Red heart
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I met Randall one evening as he was landing his hot air balloon. That encounter started a lifelong friendship. We disagreed on politics and religion, however our friendship was stronger than those disagreements. Randall taught me to fly hot air balloons and I eventually bought one so that we could fly together. There are many stories  about those adventures, however one that always comes to mind was the Long Jump that we completed one winter. Normally balloons are flow just a few hundred feet above the ground. However on this day, we loaded the balloon down with fuel in Sedalia and climbed to 10,000 ft where we had a jet stream wind speed of 100 mph. Since we were moving at the same speed as the wind, there was no wind in our face yet we were making 100 mph across the ground. We landed north of St Louis and waited several hours  for our ground crew to catch up and retrieve us. Being in a small basket almost 2 miles in the sky was truly an experience that I will never forget. I think about the adventures that Randall and I shared often and will always miss him. 
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Uncle Don came out to visit us in Framingham during my 1st marriage and before kids. So that’s at least 40 years ago, 1983. We put on this great steak dinner to impress him!   He ate about 1/2 his meal and said, “ok, I’m done, let’s go see Randy”. Uncle Don couldn’t wait to get done and go see him!!!!  

We met Randy at a restaurant/ bar in Wellesley MA. Randy had a business suit on with “bow tie” talking with coworkers .  When he saw us he stopped what he was doing flagged us over and introduced us!  We ended up having a great evening!!  Randy, Randy, Randy!

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Think of you often, Randall. So grateful that you were in my life, and I miss being able to share more experiences with you. I miss your humor and intelligence and I am always amazed at all you accomplished in such a short time. So sorry you left us too soon.
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RA Potts
Current River, MO, USA
I have so many stories with Randall that it is hard to choose one. We were on a float trip with our boys while sitting around the campfire one evening. Randall always wore a vest filled with everything you can imagine. We were looking up at the stars trying to pick out the different constellations when I said it would be nice to have one of those things that show where they are at. Low and behold Randall pulls one out of his vest! I started laughing so hard that I started coughing. The next thing Randall pulls out of his vest were cough drops! Unbelievable. Many great times together.
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I just read thru this again. Makes me cry. I knew Randy for a long time…..
Randy and I used to belly buck. Not sure how we were so able to run at each other with our bellies sticking out and smash into each other. That was always a lot of fun and we never got hurt-I think. The good old days….
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I often reflect on how much I lost when we lost you, Randall. And I am grateful for the gifts you shared.
Hard to believe it has been a year. Thinking about you and your family.
John & Linda Polack
A few weeks ago I posted an article that stirred up some controversy on my Facebook page.

It’s not something that I do very often and while it mostly confirmed my belief that it’s a zero-sum game, it also made me feel strangely close to my dad and that I’d be doing him proud.

Yep, still looking to gain his approval after 38 years.

For anyone who doesn’t know him, my dad was no stranger to a good Facebook debate. And, not just the diplomatic kind either. My dad was scrappy, opinionated, and sometimes a bit too direct.

His desire to engage in heated Facebook debates used to drive me crazy.

Today is the one year anniversary of his passing.

Sadly, we’ve had to postpone his life celebration with our friends and family which was planned for this past May. And, while I usually shy away from controversy or posting personal things online I could think of no better way than to honor him by doing a few things that are completely out of my comfort zone, but both of which I know he'd appreciate — inspiring a good ol’ Facebook debate and reminiscing on some of my favorite memories.

When I was younger I would have my dad proofread things that I had written for school. And, like the scene in To Kill a Mockingbird, he’d tell me it was good but to write it in half as many words.

So, I’ll do my best to get to the point about my dad, who he was and what he meant to me.
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When we were really little my dad traveled a lot for work and before he’d leave we’d make chocolate chip cookies and hide them in his briefcase with little notes. And this is why, for me, making and eating cookies has always symbolized love and I've yet to meet a cookie that I don't like.

One of the first really clear memories that I have of my dad was sitting in a friend's yard inside an igloo that he made for us after a big snow when we lived in Lombard, IL. I remember looking out the top and seeing his face appear as he added the last packed block of snow.

We called my dad “Sparky” after the Chevy Chase character in the National Lampoon's vacation movies. They are stories about a father who sets unattainable goals of the perfect family vacation that never seem to go as planned.

This was often how our vacations went — Dad planning every detail and then life would have other plans. There was one vacation, however, when I was about 11 that did go perfectly to plan which then started my love obsession with Walt Disney World.

...We drove through the night and pulled up to the Grand Floridian to Christmas carols and chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Each day we arrived the minute the park opened and stayed until the second it closed, only to get up the next day and do it all over again. It was exhausting and the absolute best…

My dad was a planner extraordinaire. There was nothing that got him more excited than a well mapped out, and oftentimes, overly complicated spreadsheet. He used these spreadsheets to figure out many aspects of our family life and this taught me that when you really want something you put it into a spreadsheet and figure out how to make it happen. I now do this often.

My dad was a diehard baseball fan and lover of the Chicago Cubs. The sound of Harry Caray singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame and a Cubbie game playing in the background was pretty much the theme song of our childhood.

Thankfully he saw them win the World Series in his lifetime. It made his entire year.

My dad loved a good hole in the wall restaurant. A funky dried maple syrup still on the spoon hair in the bottom of your coffee cup type of joint. And there was nothing that got him more excited than a good deal. Because of this we often lovingly called him the “cheap bastard”.

However, he didn’t just love a good deal because he’d also drop serious cash on the latest tech or a pair of shoes.

The man LOVED a good fitting pair of shoes. When he found one he’d tell you about it for weeks. And if they were a good deal too, then we'd be hearing about it for months and he’d try to convince us to buy them. But he wouldn’t just buy them for us because, well, the whole cheap bastard thing.

My dad had a really good memory. His ability to recall really obscure details about the exact thing that someone said that made him laugh or a name of a person he met for 5 minutes in a train station 45 years ago was second to none.

I also really admired how he could walk up to anyone and know exactly what question to ask or how to strike up a conversation. He had this gift.

My dad was deeply nostalgic for the good ol’ days and he was always in search of the perfect small town where milk was still delivered in glass bottles by the milkman.

He loved reminiscing about the same stories over and over like the time when my Grandpa Jesse told my dad “I said I wanted some pie you asshole” when they pulled up to Arby’s for some lunch instead of a place with pie like he had requested.

This was exactly my dad’s weird dry sense of humor that would make him laugh so hard that all you'd see was his shoulders bobbing up and down in complete silence before he would erupt in laughter.

He had a very quiet then forceful laugh. It was great and much like his personality. Quiet, reserved, contemplating, and then suddenly LOUD, FORCEFUL, AND CONFRONTING!

He sneezed the exact same way.

He loved to use old sayings that he heard from his parents, grandparents, and relatives like “it’s just a stone's throw away” or “well dog my cat”. I still don’t really know what some of them mean.

Things that used to drive us all a little crazy were when my dad called “family meetings”
Or, when he’d send a cryptic three-word text message
Or, when he called us a “family unit”
Or, when he repeatedly mispronounced certain works like IM-MAT-TURE, GREAZY, TWOSDEY, or BATT-RIES (sorry, you just had to be there).

My dad had exceptionally LONG earlobes. One of the many things he blessed me with. He said they represented wisdom, but I think it just means that I have an extra large surface area for piercings.

My dad had zero rhythm. But, you had to respect that he also didn't care and still made it a point to always get out on the dance floor.

He loved old black and white movies. I've watched the Quiet Man and To Kill a Mocking Bird more times than I can count.

My dad also loved music. He introduced us to Alison Krauss, Tracy Chapman, and Bob Dylan. A good violin solo could bring him to tears.

He loved driving to music festivals with my mom and their dog Bette in their RV and meeting up with their festival friends.

He absolutely adored my Mom and her ability to have unconditional love and forgiveness. To live up to her vision of him was something he was always striving for, even during the final days of his life.

My dad was deeply emotional, but struggled with relationships and showing affection. He had a funny way of showing that he cared. When he cared he challenged you and sometimes this was misunderstood and met with resistance. I’m guessing that this probably comes from my dad’s relationship with his own dad.

He loved it when someone would indulge him in a good debate about politics or religion. And, he loved it even more when someone didn’t feel threatened by disagreement and was still willing to have hard conversations.

You know, the way it used to be when people could disagree and still be friends at the end.

My dad had lots of hobbies. Especially hobbies that required a lot of complex expensive gear. When he got really interested in something he went ALL. THE. WAY. IN.

Camping, boating, hunting, sailing, brewing beer, fly fishing, ham radio, homeopathy, RVing…

Oh, and he learned to fly hot air balloons so we had one of those too because that is apparently something that people do, they buy a hot air balloon?!

My dad had an insatiable quench for reading and learning. He loved to travel and learning about people. And, he loved it just as much when people were interested in learning about him too.

My dad really prioritized our education and was so proud that he found a way to get us all through Culver Academies for high school. He considered this to be one of his greatest accomplishments and all of our lives are different and better because of it.

My dad had a temper. If you ever met my Grandpa Jesse you’d know that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. My dad was really pissed about the state of the world during his last days. And as a true newspaperman at heart, he wasn’t afraid to say what he felt to be true just because it might make some people feel uncomfortable.

He liked to claim that he was an optimist, but really he was an optimist with conditions. He was no stranger to discontentment. My dad was always searching.

.

As time passes the picture begins to fade. But, I always want to remember all of the quirks that made him who he was.

Perfectly imperfect and completely unforgettable.

With everything that has unfolded in the world since he passed away, I often wonder what he’d be saying now. Only wishing that I could be annoyed at one more of his spirited Facebook debates.

My dad loved this story of a young 20-year old Bob Dylan who was starting to get noticed in coffee houses in Greenwich Village in the 60s. He ran into the Irish folk singer Liam Clancy who gave him some Guinness fueled advice, “Remember, Bobby. No fear, no envy, no meanness.”

Life gets messy sometimes but I strive for this too.

My dad sent me an email a couple weeks before he passed that simply said, "That song. You will know a good time for it.”

And now, seems like that time.
https://www.youtube.com/watch…
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Hard to believe he’s been gone a year. He was nothing but honest with his opinions but always left me with a smile. We need more Randall’s. I’m

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Randall Shields