Hundreds of people gathered inside the Southwest Washington Fairgrounds’ blue pavilion building Thursday afternoon to remember and honor the late Lewis County commissioner Gary Stamper during a public memorial service that saw family, friends and colleagues recount joyful and touching parts of his life.
Seating was set at 500, Sheriff Rob Snaza said, and attendance was at about that.
Clad in masks, community members and family embraced one another. Flowers framed a center stage where speakers chronicled stories of the 67-year-old, who died Sept. 29 after a five-week battle against COVID-19.
After the service, a slideshow of photographs from his life played out, showing the many hiking excursions, holiday get-togethers, parades, sporting events and fishing trips he took part in.
The event was hosted by the county at the behest of Stamper’s family.
Stamper’s longtime friend and pastor Wayne Nelson welcomed attendees of the event and gave the closing prayers. He, daughter Sheena (Stamper) Woods, partner Bobbi Barnes, Commissioner Lindsey Pollock, friend Dusty Belcher, former commissioner Edna Fund and former student Tori Nelson eulogized him through lighthearted stories that reflected his loving nature.
Nelson, who rattled off the many titles Stamper held and affectionately referred to his dear friend by his nickname, Bones, called him a “peacemaker” who was never afraid of the middle ground.
“You may not have agreed with everything he said or did, but everybody liked Bones. He was easy to like because he made people feel comfortable — he made them feel important and special. My friend, the peacemaker, there’s not many like him in the world,” Nelson said.
Nelson and Stamper grew up together, both attending Mossyrock High School. Nelson was a sophomore when Stamper was a senior. The two commuted to Centralia College for a year after high school and attended summer school together for two years.
Stamper was a man with flaws, Nelson said, but he was a loving, optimistic person with generosity beyond bounds. Though they were opposites by some measures, their friendship lasted a lifetime.
“He was like the Skipper and I was like Gilligan. I was his little buddy,” Nelson said.
Woods said Stamper, her father, provided her and her siblings a loving and affectionate childhood filled with memories: summers at the lake, courtside Sonics basketball games, bonfires in their front yard, hours at the Mossyrock Mini Mart, state championship basketball games and his “world-famous eggs and burnt chicken legs.”
“If you ever came to the Stamper household after 9 p.m., you probably had the image burned into your skull of him answering the door in his underwear,” Woods said to an eruption of laughter. “He didn’t care who was at the door, the fact that it was border-line illegal, or how embarrassing it may have been to his teenage daughters. As amazing as he was as a father, watching him become a grandfather was even better … They were his pride and joy.”
Stamper “left no stones unturned” in his life, and his uncanny ability to see things in a positive light made him Woods’ “perfect person to lean on for advice.”
Tori Nelson, who was a player for Stamper’s Mossyrock girls basketball team and has always referred to him respectfully as Mr. Stamper, spoke for the dozen or so players who were in attendance Thursday.
“The great thing about Mr. Stamper was his balance between fun and business. He was a lot of fun, but he could go from zero to throwing the ball cart across the court in just one bad pass,” she said. “To him, life was a game and basketball was serious.”
Stamper spent 13 seasons as the Lady Vikings head coach, 10 of those leading to state appearances. Following a state championship title in 2007, he retired on top. Nelson detailed embarrassing stories with coach Stamper, who she remembers dressed in his tight pants and fake turtlenecks while sporting his staple bald head.
“He taught us about life through the game of basketball. I can’t speak too much to him as a history teacher — he would just give us huge packets of work, we’d correct them ourselves, tell him our score. I didn’t remember one thing from that class,” she said. “I could tell you who I was supposed to guard the next night in our game, but history? Not a clue.”
Being a Lady Viking was “a badge of honor” to Nelson and her teammates, she said.
Nelson recounted her senior year missing two free throws during a championship game and losing by one. She remembered she “had the weight of the world on my shoulders” and felt she let her community and coach down.
“He put his arm around me and he said, ‘Those free throws do not define you.’ And I talk about those free throws every season with my team. And I don’t talk about them to tell them I blew it, I talk about them to tell them you’re going to make mistakes and you’re going to have someone right behind you with every mistake you make, leading you away. To me, and to all the ladies you saw standing up, that’s what we got from Mr. Stamper,” she said.
Barnes, his partner with whom he shared many adventures with, said there was always competition ensuing within their relationship — be it credit scores, Yahtzee or even yearbook accolades.
“What I couldn’t compete with Gary Stamper was his kindness, his capacity to do good things for people. I tried, but Gary showed up. He showed up and did the work,” she said.
That kindness always translated into interesting situations, Barnes said, whether they were picking up a Pittsburgh-bound hitchhiker or building a ramp for a wheelchair-bound student without a permit.
“Last spring, there was a Girl Scout Troop in Harlem at a homeless shelter. He bought, I think, $100 and he was like ‘I told them don’t send the cookies.’ I’m like, ‘Gary, what? No cookies?’ And he said, ‘Well, they can keep the money. They can use it.’ Gary was always the one to be giving,” Barnes said.
And he always kept his word. One of the last events he showed up to, Barnes said, was a dance event at the Southwest Washington Fair. He was feeling under the weather that day, but he promised two of the youth dancers he’d be there for their performance.
“I’m so glad we (went), because on the way home I got to say ‘Gary Stamper, and that’s what I love about you. You are the kind of person that will drive an hour to see two little kids dance, because you promised and you knew it meant something to someone,’” Barnes said.
For many other people, the fairgrounds was the last place they’d see Stamper.
In the final week of his life, Barnes said she would call the hospital three times daily to receive updates. Despite being vaccinated against COVID-19, his illness only got worse.
Only two people could be in the hospital at a time to see Stamper’s final moments, so Barnes said she opted to stay at home while family members said goodbye. Alongside family and friends, Barnes said they sat at home and ate his snacks, taking the day to remember him through their memories and travels.
After Thursday’s memorial, Barnes said she plans to begin the transition out of grief. This weekend, she and her granddaughter have plans to lodge at Mount Rainier and hike the Rampart Ridge Trail. Hiking was something she always brought Stamper along for.
“I lost my best friend and I lost the funnest travel partner you could ever want, and just this kind human being who made me want to be a better person,” she said. “So, I just hope to get back to not being sad all the time.”
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A live recording of the memorial is available to view on The Chronicle’s Facebook page.
