Vernon Glen Garris, Jr.

I don’t think you can sum up a man like him in just a few words. He wasn’t flashy. He wasn’t someone who needed attention. He was the kind of man who just showed up, every single day and did the work.

He was a builder, a construction worker, and a logger. He worked in the cold, in the heat, in the mud, in places most people wouldn’t last a week. Logging isn’t easy work. Construction isn’t easy work. It’s early mornings, sore backs, rough hands, and long days. And he did it for years without complaining. That kind of life takes grit. It takes strength. It takes heart.

His hands told his story. They were rough and worn, but they could build just about anything. He didn’t need fancy tools or big talk. If something was broken, he’d figure it out. If something needed building, he’d get it done. He understood things in a way that only someone who’s worked with their hands their whole life can understand. He didn’t just fix things, he made them solid.

And then there was his motorcycle. That was his freedom. After all those long days working hard, riding was his way of breathing, of clearing his head, of feeling alive in a different way. You could see it in him, that little spark. The road gave him something that matched his spirit: steady, strong, and a little wild.

But as strong as he was, what really mattered was his family. He leaves behind four children and many grandchildren. That’s his real legacy. Not just the buildings he helped raise or the trees he brought down, but the people he helped raise. The lessons he passed on without always saying them out loud. Work hard. Keep your word. Take care of your own. Don’t quit when things get tough.

He may not have always said a lot, but his actions spoke loudly. He showed love by providing. By fixing things. By being there. By doing.

There’s an emptiness now that’s hard to describe. The world feels a little quieter without him. But if you listen closely, he’s still here, in the sound of a hammer, in the smell of fresh-cut wood, in the rumble of a motorcycle passing by. He’s in the strength of his children and in the eyes of his grandchildren.

He built a life the only way he knew how, with effort, with toughness, and with pride. And that kind of life leaves a mark.

We’re going to miss him more than words can say. But we’ll carry him with us, in our work, in our memories, and in the way we take care of each other.

That’s how we honor a man like him.

And I think he’d want us to keep going; steady, strong, and hands ready for whatever needs building next.

Glen was proceeded in death by his father; Vernon Garris Sr., his mother; Mary R Garris, And his best friend and wife; Stephanie Hall. 

Left to miss him are 4 kids: Wesley Register, Leann Register, Glen Garris & Mari Garris (Cornelius Reid). 12 grandchildren; Jarid Fair, Jason Fair, Jameer Fair, Jada Fair, Avril Reid, Krew Reid, Mason Garris, Kinley Garris, Connor Garris, Wyatt Garris, Brewer Garris, and Baby Garris. Along with his only Great grandson; Jasai Fair. Amongst them are many other friends, cousins, and children who he loved as his own. We will forever cherish his love in memories. 

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