Bud put the tile in the home we were having built.  I'm surprised the build was ever finished because every time we saw him we would spend a lot of time talking...and I mean a lot.  We were so impressed with him and his work we recommended him to my sister who was redoing her kitchen and I think they spent just as much time talking with Bud as we did.  He had interesting stories to tell and a great sense of humor.  The world will miss him, he was a good man.  Our deepest sympathies to the entire Emmendorfer family.  From the Zimmicky and Less families.

Thank you for every one of your spontaneous visits and so many memories. I love you, Uncle Bud! Give hugs to all those who are up in heaven ahead of you. 

Bud was such a loving and generous guy.  He loaned me a car when I needed it most without hesitation. He saw a need and fulfilled it. I will forever be grateful. He was the type of person that would give you the shirt off his back. He will surely be missed by many. My sincere condolences to Sheila and all family and friends 🧡 

I am sad that this friend to everyone, appropriately known as "Bud", has passed on. Bud was always ready to help anyone that needed help. He helped me get my car fixed a couple times, he delivered corn to the door in September or October, he put the tile up in my kitchen, and paid for many meals for family events. It was useless to get Bud a watch because he operated on his own time line. He arrived late more than he was on time! 

Bud lived life on his own terms. He kept doing the things he loved  all the way to the time he no longer could. There was so much knowledge packed into his body.......he knew all about cars, he was an expert on songs, and he was a collector of cars and motorcycles. 

It is our world's loss that he is not here anymore. If there are poker games in Heaven, I am certain there is a seat for him at the table. 

Red Wings — with Bud Emmendorfer, Mike Vernon, Chad Krueger and Jerry Krueger

John & Bethany LaQuiere wedding reception — with Bud Emmendorfer and Shelia Rock

Remembering being there and having nothing but fun that day with loud 60’s & 70’s music. Food. Running around having the best time we could have being kids. When we got with the Emmendorfer’s & later on Randazzo’s , ( riding horses, riding bikes, playing with friends, games, etc, traveling around) having Christmas’s and holidays together. Watching our Aunties graduation from High Schools. It was the best. Uncle Buddie would take us kids to get junk food & Pepsi. He loved Pepsi I remember that ‘ hey run and get me a cold Pepsi! Us kids would fight who would get the Pepsi! We had a blast. Remembering his ‘milk truck’ as his work truck! Going on jobs with him. He was pretty good & cool guy!!! Never forget him. The man with a huge heart and a big smile and always made everyone smile! Always made Gramma E’ say, ‘Buddy, that’s it get out here, that’s the last word!’ He would get who riled up ! Nuttin but laughs and fun times !!! The last time I saw him and he helped me was the huge snow storm leaving from the top of mitten of Michigan from Uncle Vince & Aunt Nancy place , my car wasn’t doing well in the snow storm and I was following him, we pulled over and he said that’s enough, pull that over to the way side get in my car and your ex can get that car back for you with the tow truck. Sure enough he had that done for me. Back in 1993. Way too long not to see my family! I’m sorry 😞 Love 💕 you Nicole  — with Nancy Randazzo and Nancy Joanne groseb

Bud,

I don’t think I ever truly got the chance in life to say thank you as much as I should have. You were beyond a great person. When Dan and I got together about five years ago, you also took on my kids. You spent time with them, did things with them, and you were there for them.

All my kids had ever really known was my father, and they referred to you as Papa Bud. They would get so excited—especially Emma—whenever she saw you pull up. She would say, “Papa Bud’s here!” and run out to greet you.

I just want you to know how truly thankful I am for you. You were always there. I truly cherish the moments I spent with you—sitting in your hospital room, waiting while you were checked in, or taking you to the hospital. I cherish all of those moments. I wanted to be there for you as much as you were there for us.

You were a good man with a beautiful heart.

Such a sweet, loving and generous soul.   You will be missed by many.

Thanks for always being kind and generous. You were always willing to do anything to help others. You will be missed.

Bud was next level kind and generous.  He would give a stranger the shirt off his back. He loved helping others unconditionally. He was not afraid of anything. We were trying to run out of FL for hurricane Irma and Bud was driving to FL to help people board up their home.  That is just the kind of guy he was. I love you Bud and will miss you.  Until we meet again.  

Well Bud...AFU finally got you. I'd like to say I enjoyed taking your money playing cards but it was the other way around. I could never out play you. Thanks for all the stories and humor through the years.  Friday cards will not be the same. 

Bud would light up a room with his contagious smile, his classic dad jokes, and his one-of-a-kind charm. He was a man everyone knew and loved. Bud was the most generous person I have ever known—family, friend, or complete stranger, he was always willing to buy you a meal, lend you his car, or spend hours simply talking with you.

Bud and his sister Betty

Some losses arrive quietly, even as the world moves toward noise and celebration. My Uncle Bud passed away on New Year’s Eve. And while grief looks different depending on proximity, love has many shapes. Bud mattered deeply to our family. He was a presence, liked to joke, liked to push buttons a little, and liked to keep things lively. He had a way of stepping into a room and making himself known, sometimes through laughter, other times through sheer force of personality. He could be generous, stubborn, protective, and complicated. Above everything else, he was a man who showed up when it mattered, especially early on, when my mom and her sisters lost their father and were still so young. Bud stepped into that space; he became someone they could lean on. He stood beside my mom when she married my dad. He carried responsibility when it was heavy.

Life was not gentle with him. His body carried a lot; illness, dialysis, machines, and the long and exhausting work of staying alive when staying alive became a daily negotiation, and eventually, he let go.

There is something sobering about watching a generation ahead of us thin. About realizing how much history lives inside one person. The stories we only partially know, the choices we never witness, and the strength that exists long before we were old enough to understand it, and how endings don’t always announce themselves with clarity. Sometimes, they arrive quietly, asking us to pause and notice what has shifted. In the same way, grief doesn’t always arrive as devastation, sometimes it shows up in the quiet understanding that someone mattered in ways we’re just beginning to recognize. We don’t have to know every chapter of a person’s life to feel the weight of their absence nor honor what they carried for others. Sometimes it simply asks us to sit with what has changed, even when we’re not sure how to make sense of it yet. I’m holding my family especially close in my thoughts right now and accepting that loving someone doesn’t require full understanding of who they were; it simply means recognizing the role they played and the space they leave behind.

Rest easy, Uncle Bud, may the four winds blow you safely home.