Sort of a tribute to a great guy:
When I was a missionary in Campbell River, BC Canada, I got to meet this awesome family, the Ricketts. They lived way outside town in the woods. They'd had some hard times. The house they bought had been torched by a fire, so Kelly Ricketts (the dad) was slowly cutting lumber to rebuild it. While I was there they were living in the upstairs, and the downstairs was completely gutted.
This guy was the man's man. I mean, think of anything tough, and rugged, and bad a$$ and he's probably done it. Sometimes I'd wonder if he was just telling us stories, but only occasionally, and after getting to know him I realized he didn't lie about anything. He grew up on a float house at a logging camp and ran away from home as a young teenager, with his guitar. Had a rough couple years, getting into trouble and participating in less enviable pastimes. As a young adult he married a woman who already had three young children. This marriage fell apart, something happened to the woman (I can't remember the details) and in the mean-time he worked as a bouncer, logging truck driver, logger, hunting and fishing guide, taxidermist, coal miner, and professional boxer, and he's played a fair bit of hockey through it all.
He'd boxed professionally (and never been beaten in the ring, he could take hits forever and it only took a few of his to knock the other guy down), and would've gone to the Seoul Olympics in 1988, but had his hand smashed by a sledge hammer a few weeks prior (or maybe it was a motorcycle accident?). He also was a professional country music singer for some time (remember the guitar I mentioned earlier?). He even performed on the Canadian Country Music Awards show and has a picture of him and the other performers (including Shania Twain) along with a few professionally made music videos. Something went down with the publishing of his CD and his career was short lived. I have to tell you, listening to him play sitting around his table or in his living room was an experience I'll never forget. I added a few of his songs to the playlist above. He gave us copies of his CD. His music's not necessarily country by nature, but they made it that way on the CD. His stage name was Kelly Randall. Just listening to him and his guitar was an experience.
At some point in the late 80's, he met two sister missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (the story of their meeting is funny, but not for here), and eventually joined the church. He met another convert to the church, they married, and now have several children. When we were around him, it was obvious they didn't have much money, but they were happy. They owned a rental home on the mainland (while I was in Campbell River, they discovered that the house had been turned into a marijuana grow-op and trashed). He also had some property in Northern BC he was thinking of logging. He'd been working at the coal mine, but the economy fluctuates quite a bit up there, and he lost his job along with many others. Shortly after I left, he moved to Kamloops and farmed there for some time before moving out to Neudorf, Saskatchewan. Check it out on Google Maps. His oldest daughter found me on Facebook and we got to catch up with each other.
I hope things are going good for him and his family. He was a great guy. He cared a great deal for his family and neighbors. We would help on projects occasionally out at his place and I've got some good pictures somewhere of us working with his portable lumber mill he had behind the house. One time, we were pruning trees to make them sellable for Christmas trees in the winter, and I remember we knocked down a robin's nest with eggs in it. It surprised me he had such a soft spot as he tried to put the nest back in place, almost heartbroken over the fallen nest.
A few funny memories: A friend we visited regularly in Campbell River was at his daughter's swim meet in Port Alberni to the south. He got to talking to another dad there and it came up our friend was from Campbell River. The other dad exclaims, "Campbell River? I knew this guy up there. He was crazy! Used to go bow-hunting for grizzlies. His name is Kelly Ricketts."
He also tried some Danish salt-licorice I'd received from my family- the Pirates kind. Kelly tried and tried to chew it up and swallow it, but couldn't do it. He was in pure agony trying to brave the black poison for several minutes before spitting it into the fire place.
He took us fishing with a friend and the missionaries from Comox, and stopped to get some Timbits (Tim Horton's donut holes) and inhaled some powdered sugar and starts choking while driving. The four of us in the back of the van just about panicked as the van starts swaying all over the road and his friend starts slapping him on the back. "Geez, Timbits as hard as rocks! What, are these 4 months old??" A great memory, still makes me laugh. The four of us missionaries had a great time that day.
