This is a stubborn old goat whom we all dearly love. He could sometimes be sharp of tongue and rigid in his determination to be right, but the love he had for his family was clear. Born October 7th, 1926 to Blanche and Boots K, Vern Wray K. married his beloved Betty H. in 1949 and together they raised six children. His love of Betty prompted him to study Catholicism and be received into the Church and he often said that Betty not only gave him six wonderful children, but also a faith. In very quiet ways he continually put his family first and tried to keep a simple life enjoyable. When the kids were little, he quit smoking in hopes that they would not be as likely to take up the habit. At vacation time, he found a way to take everyone to the beach on a tight budget. When he played games with his children, and later his grandchildren, he gave no favors and made them win on their own so they could enjoy the feeling of a true victory. His rules of conduct were so strict that, even as grown children, his kids had to rename the card game “Oh Shit!” to “Oh Crap!” so that he would play.
A banker for 37 years, Vern taught his children honesty and integrity through his own example as he dealt with the public. Everyone entering the doors of First National, which later became First Interstate, was treated with respect. Over and over again people have told us that, as newcomers to town they were first welcomed by Vern and instantly made to feel comfortable and part of the community. He had a gift for conversation and Betty often commented that he knew no enemies and could make an acquaintance of anyone. Indeed, when we took them to the beach in 2001 and stopped at the Evergreen Aviation and Space Museum in McMinnville, we lost Vern at one point in the huge building full of the Spruce Goose and other historic planes. Finally, Betty pointed him out lounging in a chair next to a complete stranger, shooting the breeze and making yet another friend.
As Vern was raised to do, he kept his feelings close to his vest, but this tendency softened somewhat in later years. When I painted windows at one of the two branches he managed in the eighties, the employees laughingly told me that Vern was a master at always managing to somehow bring his kids into a conversation with absolutely anyone on a daily basis. The only thing that interrupted this tendency was the birth of his grandchildren, and then pictures came out along with the grandparent stories. Although he may not have said it enough to those he loved, the rest of the community knew how proud he was of all of his children and grandchildren. I have often thought that the feelings he had for them ran too deep for him to express in their presence. An addition to the family through marriage, I was touched by his tenderness. He worried aloud to me once in awhile about something affecting his kids or Betty and his candor always took me by surprise. The words seemed to slip out of their own accord and his eyes always looked quite vulnerable, hoping for an answer. Similarly, he could tell me how proud he was of Don, but not say it to Don, himself. Or, he could tell Don how proud he was of one of his siblings, but not tell the sibling. Yet, he never gave up sacrificing and trying to do his best for his family and, as Betty knew well, he might not admit he was actually wrong about something, but love would eventually bend him 180 degrees. This is a good man who loved his family more than anything. His stubbornness, honor, and honesty are now a solid part of his children and grandchildren and we are all privileged to have had him as a father, grandfather, and friend.
